XXXI
It would be difficult to describe the thundercloud of thought that camedown upon Fulviac's face when news was brought him of the capture of thegirl Yeoland and the decimation of the vanguard from Geraint. There wassomething even Satanic upon his face for the moment. He was not apleasant person when roused, and roused he was that day like any ogre.His tongue ran through the whole gamut of blasphemy before he recovereda finer dignity and relapsed into a grim reserve. His men spoke to himwith great suavity. He had decreed that Nord of the Hammer should behanged for negligence, but the decree was unnecessary, since Flavian'ssword had already settled the matter.
The Gilderoy forces therefore turned northwards, with their greatbaggage and siege train, and in due course came upon the Geraintersbivouacking on the ridge where the battle had taken place. The greenslopes were specked with dark motionless figures, dead horses, and thewreckage of war. Men were burying the dead upon the battlefield.Yeoland's guard had been slaughtered almost to a man; and the wholeaffair had damped very considerably the ardour of certain of the lesstrustworthy levies.
But Fulviac was not the man to sit and snivel over a defeat; he knewwell enough that he had good men behind him, tough fighting stuff, firedby fanaticism and a long sense of wrong. He harangued his whole force,black-guarded with his lion's roar those concerned in the march fromGeraint, treating them to such a scourging with words that they snarledand clamoured to be led on at once to prove their mettle. Their leadershad been at fault, nor did Fulviac keep their spirits cooling in thewind. The power of his own personality was great, and he had twentythousand men at his back, who knew that to fail meant death and torture.They had received a check from the Lord of Gambrevault; it wasabsolutely essential to the cause that they should wipe out the defeat,recapture their Saint and sacred banner, crush Gambrevault once and forever. To this strenuous tune they marched on towards the sea, and thatnight lit their fires on the hills that ringed Gambrevault on the north.
As the sun climbed up and spread a curtain of gold over down and upland,those on the walls of Gambrevault saw steel glinting on the hills, thepikes and casques of Fulviac's horde. Yeoland saw them from hercasement, as she stood and combed her hair. Flavian, watching withcertain knights on the keep, confronted the event with a merry smile.The shimmering line of silver on the hills had broadened to a darkerband, splashed lavishly with steel. The rebel host was coming on in ahalf moon, with each horn to the sea. Its centre held towards the fordand the dismantled Gambrevault mills, positions strongly held on thesouthern bank by a redoubt and stockaded trenches.
The criticisms delivered by those watching from the keep were variousand forcible.
"By Jeremy--a rare mob!"
"Let them grip at Gambrevault," said Modred, "and they shall clutch at acactus. Look at that long baggage train in the rear. Damn them, Iguess they have the siege train from Gilderoy."
"We shall sweat a trifle."
Quoth Tristram, "They have little time to spare for a leaguer, rottingin trenches, if they are to make the country rise. They'll not leaguerus."
Flavian watched the advance under his hand.
"Fortunately or unfortunately, gentlemen," he said, "we have taken theirSaint, their oracle, and their sacred banner. I imagine they will dotheir best to dispossess us. It is time we made for the meadows; Ireckon we shall have hot work to-day."
When leaving the keep, Flavian crossed the castle garden, and caughtunder the tunnel of yews the flutter of a woman's gown. Sunlightglimmered through and wove a shimmering network in the air. Green andviolet swept the stones; a white face shone in the shadows.
He went to her and kissed her hands. His eyes were brave and joyous asshe looked into them, and there was no shadow of fear upon his face.Trumpets were blowing in the meadows, piercing the confused hum of menrunning to arms.
"War, ever war!"
"You are sad?"
"Fulviac has the whole kingdom at his back."
"If he led the world, I should not waver."
"With me it is different; I am a woman and you know my heart."
"So well that I seek to know nothing else in the world, I desire nogreater wisdom than my love. You are with me, and my heart sings. Noharm can come to you whatever doom may fall on Gambrevault."
"Think you my thoughts are all of my own safety?"
"Ah, golden one, never fear for me. What is life? a little joy, alittle pain, and then eternity. I would rather have an hour's glory inthe sun than fifty years of grey monotony. It is something to fight,and even to die, for the love of a woman. There is no shadow over mysoul."
There was a great heroism in his voice, and her eyes caught the lightfrom his. She touched his cuirass with her slim white fingers.
"God keep you!"
"Ha, I do not smell of earth to-day, nor dream of requiems."
"No, you will come back to me."
"Give me your scarf."
She took the green silk and knotted it about his arm; a rich colourshone in her cheeks, her eyes were warm and wonderfully luminous.
"God keep you!"
So he kissed her lips and left her.
The rebel horde had rolled down in their thousands from the hills.Flavian saw their black masses moving from the woods, as he rode downfrom the great gate. It was evident to him that Fulviac would try andforce the ford and win his way to the open meadows beyond. The river ranfast with a deep but narrow channel, and there was only one other fordsome nine miles upstream. His own men were under arms in the meadows.With his knights round him, Flavian rode down to the redoubt andtrenches by the river-bank, packed as they already were with archers andmen-at-arms. He was loudly cheered as he reined in and scanned therebel columns moving over the downs.
Fulviac had ridden forward with a company of spears to reconnoitre. Hesaw the captured banner of The Maid hoisted derisively on Gambrevaultkeep; he saw the redoubt and the stockades covering the ford; the footmassed in the meadows; Flavian's mounted men-at-arms drawn up under thecastle walls. Sforza and several captains of note were with Fulviac.The man was in a grim mood, a slashing Titanic humour. The passage ofthe river was to be forced, Flavian's men engaged in the meadows. Hewould drive them into Gambrevault before nightfall. Then they wouldcast their leaguer, bring up the siege train taken from Gilderoy, andbatter at Gambrevault till they could storm the place.
Early in the day Fulviac detached a body of two thousand men underColgran, a noted free-lance, to march upstream, cross by the upper ford,and threaten Flavian on the flank. The fighting began at ten of theclock, when Fulviac's bowmen scattered along the river and opened fireupon the stockades. Flavian's archers and arbalisters responded. Abody of five thousand rebels advanced with great mantlets upon wheels tothe northern bank and entrenched themselves there. A second body, withwaggons laden with timber and several flat-bottomed boats, poured downto the river a mile higher up, and began to throw a rough, raft-likebridge across the stream. At half-past ten masses of men-at-armssplashed through the water at the ford, under cover of a hot fire fromthe archers lining the bank, and began an assault upon the redoubt andthe stockades.
By twelve o'clock the bridge higher up the stream had been completed,and a glittering line of pikes poured across, to be met on the southernbank by Geoffrey Longsword and a body of men-at-arms. It was hand tohand, and hot and strenuous as could be. Men grappled, stabbed, hacked,bellowed like a herd of bulls. Flavian had reinforced the defenders ofthe ford, who still held Fulviac at bay, despite a heavy archery fireand the almost continuous assaults poured against the stockades. Yet byone o'clock Fulviac's levies had forced the passage of the bridge andgained footing on the southern bank. Longsword's men, outnumbered andrepulsed, were falling back before the black masses of foot that nowpoured into the meadows.
The situation was critical enough, as Flavian had long seen, as hegalloped hotly from point to point. Fulviac's rebels had shown morevalour than he had ever prophesied. Fl
avian packed all his remainingfoot into the trenches, and putting himself at the head of his knightsand mounted men-at-arms, rode down to charge the troops who had crossedby the pontoons. Here chivalry availed him to the full. By asuccession of tremendous rushes, he drove the rebels back into theriver, did much merciless slaughter, cut the ropes that held the bridgeto the southern bank, so that the whole structure veered downstream.The peril seemed past, when he was startled by the cry that the redoubthad been carried, and that Fulviac held the ford.
Looking south, he saw the truth with his own eyes. His troops werefalling back in disorder upon Gambrevault, followed by an ever-growingmass, that swarmed exultantly into the meadows. The last and successfulassault had been led by Fulviac in person. Flavian had to grip thetruth. The rebels outnumbered him by more than five to one; and he hadunderrated their discipline and fighting spirit. He was wiser beforethe sun went down.
"Come, gentlemen, we shall beat them yet."
"Shall we charge them, sire?"
"Blow bugles, follow me, sirs; I am in no mood for defeat."
That afternoon there was grim work in the Gambrevault meadows. Fivetimes Flavian charged Fulviac's columns, hurling them back towards theriver, only to be repulsed in turn by the fresh masses that poured overby the ford. He made much slaughter, lost many good men in the mad,whirling melees. Desperate heroism inspired on either hand. Once hestood in great peril of his own life, having been unhorsed andsurrounded by a mob of rebel pikes. He was saved by the devotion andheroism of Modred and his household knights. With the chivalry of aGalahad, he did all that a man could to keep the field. Colgran'sflanking column appeared over the downs, and Fulviac had his whole hoston the southern bank of the river. The masses advanced like one man,pennons flying, trumpets clanging. Flavian would have charged again,but for the vehement dissuasion of certain of his elder knights. Hecontented himself with covering the retreat of his foot, while the greatgate of Gambrevault opened its black maw to take them in. Many of hismercenaries had deserted to the rebels. So stubborn and bloody had beenthe day, that he had lost close upon half his force by death anddesertion; no quarter had been given on either side. He heard thesurging shouts of exultation from the meadows, as he rode sullen andwearied into Gambrevault. The great gates thundered to, theportcullises rattled down. Fulviac had his man shut up in Gambrevault.
Love Among the Ruins Page 31
