CHAPTER IV--THE CHAMPION OF MOUNTJOY
As Cedric of Pelham Wood rode with me into the courtyard, we met myfather, the Lord of Mountjoy, coming from the stables. His favoritesteed, a fine black stallion, Caesar by name, did suffer from a sprainhe had come by at the tournament at Winchester; and my father was muchin fear would never again be fit to bear him in the lists or to thewars. We came forward but slowly; and Lord Mountjoy had ample time tonote the mud-stained and foam-flecked sides of our mounts, the rents inmy garments and the bloody scratches which the forest boughs had made onour faces. Truly, I fear I made but a sorry picture; and 'tis littlewonder that a frown was on my father's brow and a roughness in his voiceas he called to me:
"How now, Sir Dickon! Hast thou ridden thy little mare through theDevil's Brake and foundered her once for all? And who is this fellow inrags and shreds of Lincoln green that rides at thy side like a comrade?Methinks 'twere better if he kept his place, an ell or two behind."
Cedric's face grew red with wrath at these words; but I hastened toanswer before he could make utterance.
"Hold, Father. This is Cedric, a forester of Pelham Wood, and our goodand true friend. Twice or thrice this day hath he with his goodcross-bow (of which he hath a skill like that of Old Marvin himself)saved me from death at the hands of the Carletons."
"By my faith! Say'st thou so, my boy?" exclaimed Father, with a wondrouschange of countenance. Then, turning to Cedric,
"Any who fights the Carleton wolves is a friend to all true Mountjoys.Come my lad, thy hand! And thy pardon if I did speak a thought rough,not knowing thy deserts. Wert thou sore beset? And did thy bolts makegood men and quiet of some of those restless knaves?"
"Some of them, my lord, will ne'er again rob an honest farmer of hisstores or burn a woodman's cottage," said Cedric with a smile.
"By'r Lady! Thou'rt a man, and shall be a Mountjoy, if guerdon can keepthee," cried my father. "But hold! Give thy mounts to the grooms, andcome to the hall. 'Tis ill talking with an empty stomach and a drythrottle. And I'll warrant you're famished, both. There's a hot pastyand somewhat else to be found, I'll be bound. You shall tell me of thisday's work by the board and the fire."
In the hall we were greeted by my lady mother, who had heard somewhat ofthat which passed in the courtyard. Cedric doffed his cap when Ipresented him to her ladyship, and bowed with a grace I looked not for.And she did ask most eagerly if aught of harm had come to either of us.Being assured that we were yet whole of skin save for the woodlandboughs, she brought with her own hands a bench before the fire, and badeCedric sit as she might have bidden any knight or courtier who visitedthe hall of Mountjoy. Then she hurried out and bade the maids bring meatand drink of the best for our refreshment.
My father and mother sat down by either side of us as we ate; and whenour hunger had been something dulled, and the maid had been despatchedfor a jar of the Mountjoy honey which my mother so closely guardsagainst the coming of noble guests, I began the tale of the fortunes ofthe day.
"Thou knowest, Father, that young Lionel of Carleton hath often sworn tohave the lives of you and me for the check the Carletons had in theirforay on Mountjoy in the spring and for the bolt which came fromMarvin's bow which laid low his father, the Old Wolf of Carleton."
"Full well I know it," growled my father, "an if he were aught but abeardless youth, I would long ago have challenged him to the combat.When he hath won his spurs, if he be still of the same mind, I'll meethim with whatever weapons he chooses, and trust to put an end to hismouthings."
"That thou'lt never do, Father," I cried, "for Cedric here hath comebefore thee. This day, but half a league from Teramore, young Lionel didmeet me as I went my way alone through the forest; and did curse andrevile me and all my house, saying that we of Mountjoy were a race ofdogs. This being more than e'en a Mountjoy could bear, I did challengehim to mortal fight, and we did meet with swords, on foot there in thepath. I quickly found that he wore, beneath his garment, a coat oflinked mail which shielded him from all my thrusts. All his strokes Imade shift to parry, and at last, when he found he could not reach mewith his sword, he rushed within my guard, seized me with a wrestlinghold and flung me on my back. Then, kneeling on my chest, he placed aponiard at my throat and sought to make me swear allegiance to theCarleton, acknowledging him as lord and suzerain. This I would never do;and truly I thought my last hour had come, for he had drawn back hisdagger for the thrust, when this brave youth, coming through the woodswith cross-bow drawn, did see the Carleton's murderous aim, and let flya bolt which struck him through the forehead."
While I spoke my mother had grown pale as death and my father red, withblazing eyes and angry clinching hands. When I paused my mother cried:
"Oh, Dickon! And had'st thou no wound at all?"
"Not a nick," I answered, "though 'twas close enough, in faith. But wehad more to do in no time at all, for no sooner had the Carletonbreathed his last than there came a-riding towards us six stoutmen-at-arms of the Carleton livery. We took horse and rode for ourlives, Cedric here on the Carleton's great war-horse. But my littleClothilde being no match for their long-limbed steeds, we should havebeen overhauled and slain had not Cedric twice turned on them with hiscross-bow, each time landing a bolt that sent one of the robber houndsto earth. With that, and with hard riding through the woods where nopaths were, we at last got safe away."
"Ah!" cried my father, joyfully, rising and offering his hand again toCedric, "'twas sweetly done, i'faith. Three of the Carleton hounds inone brief day! Whose son art thou, my friend? And where did'st thoulearn such deadly handling of thy weapon?"
"Elbert's son am I," answered Cedric, steadily, "he is forester to mylord of Pelham; and last year did carry away the prize for archery atthe Shrewsbury tourney. Since I could carry bow, I have shot as he didteach me."
"What years hast thou?"
"Sixteen, come Candlemas."
"The very age of Dickon here," cried my mother. "Cedric, lad, does thymother live?"
"Nay, my lady," quoth he, sadly, "two years agone we buried her."
_WHILE I SPOKE MY MOTHER HAD GROWN PALE AS DEATH_]
"Then thou shalt come to live at Mountjoy," she went on with bonny,flushing cheeks and bright and eager eyes. "Hast thou learned thyletters? Canst thou read prayer book or ballad?"
"Nay, my lady," he said again, with a blush. "We of the forest knowlittle of letters."
"Then I will teach thee. Thou'rt a mannered lad and well spoken for onewho knows not court or town. Thou shalt be a clerk an thou wishest."
"No clerk shall he be," I cried. "Saving thy pardon, good Mother, heshall be my squire-at-arms. A man that fights as he shall be noshaven-pate. He shall teach me his craft with the bow, and of him I willmake a bonny swordsman. What say'st thou, Father? Have I not the rightof it?"
My father did smile somewhat to see me so hot and eager in my plans. Andtruly, I bethought me then that this lad whom I was choosing for mycomrade-in-arms was one whom but three hours gone I had never seen, andthat now I knew naught of him save that he fought well and truly andwith a wondrous skill of his weapon. Yet, looking at his clear, blueeyes and his way of holding up his head as a freeman of England, Irepented me not of my words.
Cedric was gazing at Lord Mountjoy, and quietly awaiting his word, whilemy lady mother glanced quickly from one to another of us. When my fatherbegan to speak it was slowly and soberly enough.
"Not quite so fast, Sir Dickon. There's many a thought to be taken yetanent thy knightly training. But now it comes to me that Cedric heree'en must remain at Mountjoy for some months at least, if he would guardhis life and limb. After this day's work, should any of the Carleton mencome upon him at a vantage, his shrift would be short and no prayerssaid."
So was it settled that Cedric should remain with us of Mountjoy. Thenext day a messenger was despatched to Elbert, the forester, with thenews of his son's brave deeds and his present safety. I lost no time inbeginning his training for sword-play; and he showed himself the be
st oflearners. Within a week, moreover, he had shown to me some tricks of thecross-bow of which I had never heard, and fairly 'mazed our men with themarks he struck at a hundred paces distance. Already we planned a match'twixt Cedric and Old Marvin which should be a fete-day for all thefriends of Mountjoy.
Then came a messenger from Shrewsbury, where for the time the King madehis seat, bearing a scroll addressed to my father and sealed with thesign royal. Father read it slowly to himself as he stood with his backto the fire in the hall and the King's messenger was quaffing a cup ofwine in the courtyard. My mother and I waited eagerly to hear itscontents. Cedric sat in a farther corner, saying over to himself thenames of the great letters which my mother had made for him on a sheetof parchment.
'Twas plain to see that the message was not to my father's liking, forhe scowled fearsomely as he conned the words. Suddenly he began readingit in a loud and wrathful voice; and Cedric dropped his parchment tolisten.
"To Robert, Lord of Mountjoy and Knight of the Holy Sepulcher, from Henry, King of England, Duke of Normandy and Lord of Anjou, Acquitaine, and Gascony, _Greeting_.
"Know thou that there hath appeared before our Court at Shrewsbury, Elizabeth, Lady of Carleton and Teramore, and relict of Geoffrey, Lord of Carleton, deceased, who hath, on oath, made complaint against thee, thy minor son, Richard and a certain yeoman of Pelham Forest, Cedric, son of Elbert, and now harbored by thee at Mountjoy, as follows:
"That, on Saturday, of October the twenty-second day, thy son Richard did ride in the forests of Teramore without lawful right and leave from the holders thereof; that Lionel of Carleton, son of Geoffrey and Elizabeth of Carleton aforesaid, did meet with him and order him to leave those lands and return not; that thy son Richard did then and there attack Lionel of Carleton; and while they did fight, the yeoman, Cedric, being a servitor and confederate of Richard of Mountjoy did most foully slay Lionel of Carleton by a mortal weapon, to wit, a cross-bow bolt discharged from a point of hiding; that the servitors of Carleton did pursue and endeavor to arrest Richard of Mountjoy and the yeoman, Cedric, the which they did resist with force and arms, and that the aforesaid Cedric did again from hiding strike down and kill two of the Carleton retainers, so that he and thy son, Richard, did make their way to the Castle of Mountjoy where thou hast since harbored and protected them.
"Now therefore, know that it is my will that thou repair to our Court at Shrewsbury, bringing with thee thy son Richard and the yeoman, Cedric, and with not more than ten of thy retainers or men-at-arms, that fair trial of this cause may be had before our presence, on Thursday, of November the second day, at ten of the clock.
"And be thou here solemnly charged and commanded to desist from all violence and quarrel against the family of Elizabeth of Carleton or any of her servants and retainers, and to cause all thy family, thy servants and retainers to likewise refrain.
"Given under our hand and seal, this thirty-first day of October.
"_Henry_ (Rex)."
When the reading was finished we were silent for a space, my fatherpacing back and forth with roughened brow, and Mother gazing anxiouslyupon him. At last he turned and said:
"We must to Shrewsbury. 'Tis the King's command; and the Mountjoys haveever been loyal vassals, as none know better than the King himself. Whatsay'st thou, Richard? Canst thou tell in open court the tale of thatday's work even as we heard it here?"
"That I can, Father," I replied, "'tis the truth, and I care not whohears it."
"And thou, Cedric," he said, turning to face the forester who had nowadvanced to my side, "darest thou to face thy enemies and ours thus?Remember, 'twill go hard with thee if we fail to bring the King to seethe truth o't. He might order thy hanging easily as the whipping of athief. Shall not I rather mount thee on the good horse thou didst winfrom the Carleton, with thy cross-bow on thy back and a bag of goldpieces beneath thy coat, and send thee to my cousin of Yorkshire, thereto bide till this ill wind hath overblown?"
"My lord," answered Cedric, proudly, "that were to save myself at thycost. The King hath commanded thee to bring me before his court; and ifthou fail, he will visit his wrath upon thee. I will not fly. Ratherwill I ride the good steed thou speakest of to Shrewsbury in thy goodcompany."
"Well said and bravely," said my father, with a note in his speakingwhich I had heard but once, and that when an old comrade-in-arms, whomhe had thought dead in the Holy Land, came in illness and want to ourcastle door. Now he gazed for a moment full keenly at the face ofCedric, then turned and hurried to the courtyard to give orders for themorrow's journey.
The King's Court was held in the great hall at Shrewsbury, with such abrave array of lords and knights and men-at-arms, not to speak of clerksand counsellors with their mighty gowns and wigs, as was but seldom seenin our Western country. As I gazed at the King in his robes of state,seated on the dais in the midst, and noted his cold, gray eye and thehard lines about his mouth, my heart did somewhat misgive me, for all myrepeating over and over to myself that none could gainsay the justice ofour quarrel.
A word overheard as we entered the hall had set me thinking deeply; andthough I feared not for myself, I began to wish that Cedric who now satso uprightly by my side had thought fit to take the hint my father gavewhen first the summons reached us. 'Twas said that the King, in hisyouth, more than thirty years agone, had known Elizabeth of Winchester,before she was the bride of the Lord of Carleton, that she had then beenone of the fairest and proudest maidens in the kingdom, and Prince Henryhad felt for her more than a passing fancy. However this had been, andwhatever its bearing on the day's fortunes, it was now too late to doaught but await the event. The herald was announcing the cause againstRichard of Mountjoy and Cedric, son of Elbert.
Two of the Carleton men-at-arms were sworn as witnesses, and told thetale of the killing of Lionel much as it had been set forth in thecomplaint of Elizabeth, their mistress. They declared that when theyfirst came in sight of us, the Carleton and I were fighting with swordsand hand to hand, and that I, seeming to have the worse of the fray, didshrilly call to some one hidden in the tangle behind, whereat across-bow bolt came from this ambush and slew their master. From thattime on, their tales of the day's doings kept near the line of truth;and they did assert full stoutly their honesty in all this business whenthe King questioned them, making, 'twas plain to see, no little impresson his mind. Indeed, 'twas possible they believed the tale themselves,it being to them most likely from the things that they had seen.
Then was I called upon for my account; and I did set forth all thedoings of that day from the time the Carleton met me in the path,forgetting not the foul insults with which Lionel began our quarrel northe hidden coat of mail with which he thought to shield him. Cedric,with head held high and wide blue eyes gazing straight at the King, nexttold the tale; and his telling was closely like to mine.
When we both had done, the King sat with his eyes on the ground beforehim; and the hall was very still till Elizabeth of Carleton, tall,white-haired and queenly, in silken robes of black, rose in her place,and, stretching forth her hands, addressed the King:
"Henry of Anjou," she cried, "Elizabeth of Winchester, in her old ageand sorrow, calls to you for vengeance for her murdered son."
More she would have spoken, but bitter tears streamed down her face, andher voice was choked with sobs.
The King gazed steadily at the weeping lady, and made as though to speakwhen my father started from his seat and shouted:
"There was no murder done, my Lord. The Carleton brought his death uponhimself."
The King turned upon him a stern and heavy look.
"Mountjoy," he said, "wast thou there in the forest when Carleton wasslain?"
"Nay, my lord."
"Then knowest thou aught save what thy son tells thee of this fray withthy enemies?"
"Nay, my lord; but 'tis enough. The Mountjoys fight their e
nemies and donot lie about them."
With a wave of his hand the King bade my father be seated. Then he satmotionless and thoughtful for long, while none ventured to disturb him.His brow was drawn as with pain and he rested his head on his hand, thewhile we of Mountjoy, our enemies of Carleton all the members of thatbrilliant company awaited his verdict.
At last he slowly lifted his head and began to speak:
"I find the prisoners guilty of the charge that lies against them. ToRichard, son of Robert, Lord of Mountjoy, I extend my clemency in viewof the loyal and valiant service rendered by his father to our house,commanding only that he desist from bearing arms till he receive ourpermission.
"As for yonder varlet, called Cedric, he shall hang, to-morrow at dawn;and his body shall swing from Shrewsbury gate as an example to likeevil-doers."
Some of the clerks and constables strove to raise the shout--"Long livethe King"; but all became utterly silent when my father sprang from hisbench, and with a face of fury addressed his sovereign:
"Not so, my lord! Not so! By the Holy Sepulcher, it shall not be."
The King sprang to his feet, and his right hand went to his sword hilt.
"Mountjoy," he shouted, "thou forget'st thyself. Beware lest thou bringdown on thy head a wrath more terrible than that of any Carleton."
"By Heaven, my lord!" returned the Lord of Mountjoy in tones thatmatched the King's, "that brave youth shall never hang for having done adeed that should bring him praise instead. I stand on my rights as afreeman of England, and demand the _trial by battle_. There lies myglove."
Tearing from his hand his leathern gauntlet, he dashed it on the floorat the feet of the King.
All the assembled knights and soldiers drew a deep breath, as one man.There was a low murmur of applause, for the Mountjoys have many friends.The King's hand left his sword, and his face relaxed.
"Thou hast the right, Mountjoy," he said. Then, turning to the Carletonbenches, went on: "Is there any among you who will take up thischallenge?"
At this there started forth from a group of knights who had beenstanding a little behind the Lady of Carleton, a man of middle age,short of stature and of wide-mouthed, ill-favored face, but broad ofshoulder and with arms so long that his hands reached nearly to hisknees like those of a great ape I had seen in the train of the Cardinal.
"I, Philip, Knight of Latiere in Gascony, am cousin of Elizabeth, Ladyof Carleton," he shouted. "I take up this glove as her protector andchampion."
Then, seizing the glove, he tossed it high in air; and while it soaredaloft, drew a long and slender blade from its scabbard, and as the glovefell, pierced it with a flashing thrust so that he held it high whereall might see it impaled on the point of his sword.
"So let it be," said the King. "This cause shall be tried by wager ofbattle, here and now. Sir Philip De Latiere, the conditions are at yourwill, so they be fair and equal."
"Let him take a sword like unto this," said De Latiere, carelessly, "andif he chooses one a handsbreadth longer, I care not. Then let him layaside all other weapons, as I do; and I trust, with the favor of Heaven,to be the means of affirming the righteousness of thy judgment."
With this speech, he made a low bow to the King and another to theassembled knights, and, loosening his sword-belt, handed it with hisscabbard and his outer cloak to a squire.
Then I found voice for a thought that had been boiling within me.
"'Twere well, my lord," I said to the King, "to have this championsearched for hidden armor. I have grievous knowledge that the Carletonsscruple not to gain that vantage."
Some of the friends of Mountjoy raised a shout:
"Ay! Well spoken! Let him be searched."
The King quelled the tumult with a royal gesture.
"Sir Hugh of Leicester," he said to an aged knight of his train, "makesearch of both these champions, and tell us whether they wear other armsor armor than the terms permit."
In the meantime my father had thrown aside his cloak and belt; and hissword being far heavier than De Latiere's, had received the loan of alighter weapon from one of the King's attendants. Sir Hugh approachedand lightly struck the shoulders and breast and waist of both thecombatants, and announced to the King that neither carried other weaponsof offense or defense than the swords in their hands.
Thereupon a space some twelve paces across was cleared in the center ofthe hall, and Sir Philip and Lord Mountjoy stood facing one another,awaiting the word.
On a signal from the King, the herald shouted, and instantly the bladesstruck fire, and the champions whirled about one another in mortalcombat. The Frenchman danced and dodged with a quickness that minded me,even then, of the beast he so resembled. My father had much ado tocontinue facing him; and soon 'twas plain to see that the Carletonchampion was such a master of fence as would find few to equal him inall England. His blade so flashed in thrust and parry that the eye couldnot follow its motions; and my father, of whom always I had thought asthe finest of swordsmen, soon had all he could do, and more, indefending his breast from the assault, and had no instant's leisure tothreaten his enemy.
Half a minute had not passed ere the Frenchman's slashing blade drewblood from the Mountjoy's arm, then from his shoulder; and for one blackinstant methought the blow was mortal. But for minute after minute, myfather fought on, with lips tight closed and eyes that ever followed thehand of his enemy. Then I wondered if De Latiere, with all his leaps andruns, would not tire himself at the last, and slowing in his thrusts,give my father's slower spent strength its chance for victory. But againI saw how fast the Mountjoy bled from the two wounds he already had; andthis hope flitted.
Then truly, in bitterness of spirit, did I perceive how false and cruelis our vaunted trial by wager of battle. Here was my father, a good manand true, fighting to defend the life of an innocent youth; and thisdancing Frenchman, to whom the sword was as the wand of a juggler, wouldsoon kill him before our eyes. That Cedric, the forester, was guiltlessof the treacherous deed with which he stood charged altered not a whitthe devilish skill of the champion who fought to see him hang. And if DeLatiere overcame my father at the last, and left him dead at the feet ofthe King, the tale that I had told would be no whit less true for suchan outcome. Verily at that moment my eyes were opened, and thoughts cameto me that shall remain while yet I live.
Now the end fast approached. Blood streamed from my father's wounds, andhe breathed fast and thickly. He scarce moved from his tracks save everto turn and face his ape-like enemy, whose blade flashed as swiftly asever, and in whose eyes gleamed a look of deadly purpose.
My eyes could never follow the stroke which brought to a close thisdesperate, unequal combat. What I saw was that the Frenchman's blade hadpierced my father's breast. Then--all the Saints be thanked!--one lastfierce blow from the Champion of Mountjoy.
This instant was the first since the duel began when De Latiere'smatchless guarding had not fenced his body from my father's thrust. Asquick as the light's rebound when it strikes the surface of still waterwas the Mountjoy's return of the stroke he had received. The next momentboth the champions lay on the floor; and King and knights and lordsrushed forward to their succor.
De Latiere was thrust clean through the body; and he never moved norspoke. But my father's wound, though grievous, it now appeared was farfrom mortal, his enemy's blade not having deeply pierced him. Now heraised himself on his arm and claimed the victory for Mountjoy and theright.
----
Ten days thereafter, we bore home the Champion of Mountjoy in asumptuous litter, which had been the gift of the King himself. Near thegentle palfrey which bore its van, I rode on my faithful little mare,for now we had no fear of lurking enemies. By the open side of thelitter, and oft in gay and heartening speech with him who lay on thesilken pillows within, rode Cedric of Pelham Wood, on the capturedwar-horse of Carleton and wearing, full well and bravely, a new-madesuit of the Mountjoy purple and gold.