CHAPTER IV: A KNIGHT'S CHAIN
The following morning Walter put on the sober russet dress which hewore on Sundays and holidays, for gay colours were not allowed to theapprentices, and set out for Westminster. Although he endeavoured toassume an air of carelessness and ease as he approached the dwelling ofEarl Talbot, he was very far from feeling comfortable, and wished in hisheart that his master had accompanied him on his errand. Half a dozenmen-at-arms were standing on the steps of the mansion, who looked withhaughty surprise at the young apprentice.
"Dame Alice Vernon has sent to express her desire to have speech withme," he said quietly, "and I would fain know if she can receive me."
"Here, Dikon," one of the men cried to another within the hall. "This isthe lad you were sent to fetch yesterday. I wondered much who the cityapprentice was, who with such an assured air, marched up to the door;but if what thou sayest be true, that he saved the life of Dame Vernonand her little daughter, he must be a brave lad, and would be more inplace among men and soldiers than in serving wares behind the counter ofa fat city tradesman.
"I serve behind no counter," Walter said indignantly. "I am an armourer,and mayhap can use arms as well as make them."
There was a laugh among the men at the boy's sturdy self-assertion, andthen the man named Dikon said: "Come along, lad. I will take you to DameVernon at once. She is expecting you; and, my faith, it would not besafe to leave you standing here long, for I see you would shortly beengaged in splitting the weasands of my comrades."
There was another roar of laughter from the men, and Walter, somewhatabashed, followed his conductor into the house. Leading him through thehall and along several corridors, whose spaciousness and splendour quiteoverpowered the young apprentice, he handed him over to a waiting woman,who ushered him into an apartment where Dame Vernon was reclining on acouch. Her little daughter was sitting upon a low stool beside her, andupon seeing Walter she leapt to her feet, clapping her hands.
"Oh! mother, this is the boy that rescued us out of the river."
The lady looked with some surprise at the lad. She had but a faintremembrance of the events which occurred between the time when shereceived a blow from the sword of one of her assailants and that whenshe found herself on a couch in the abode of her kinsman; and whenshe had been told that she had been saved by a city apprentice she hadpictured to herself a lad of a very different kind to him who now stoodbefore her.
Walter was now nearly sixteen years old. His frame was very powerfuland firmly knit. His dark brown hair was cut short, but, being somewhatlonger than was ordinary with the apprentices, fell with a slight waveback on his forehead. His bearing was respectful, and at the same timeindependent. There was none of that confusion which might be expected onthe part of a lad from the city in the presence of a lady of rank. Hisdark, heavy eyebrows, resolute mouth, and square chin gave an expressionof sternness to his face, which was belied by the merry expression ofhis eyes and the bright smile when he was spoken to.
"I have to thank you, young sir," she said, holding out her hand, whichWalter, after the custom of the time, raised to his lips, bending uponone knee as he did so, "for the lives of myself and my daughter, whichwould surely have been lost had you not jumped over to save us.
"I am glad that I arrived in time to be of aid," Walter said frankly;"but indeed I am rather to be blamed than praised, for had I, when Iheard the plotting against the safety of the boat, told my master ofit, as I should have done, instead of taking the adventure upon mine ownshoulders, doubtless a boat would have been sent up in time to preventthe attack from taking place. Therefore, instead of being praised forhaving arrived a little too late, I should be rated for not having comethere in time."
Dame Vernon smiled.
"Although you may continue to insist that you are to blame, this doesnot alter the fact that you have saved our lives. Is there any way inwhich I can be useful to you? Are you discontent with your state? For,in truth, you look as if Nature had intended you for a gallant soldierrather than a city craftsman. Earl Talbot, who is my uncle, would, Iam sure, receive you into his following should you so choose it, and Iwould gladly pay for the cancelling of your indentures."
"I thank you, indeed, lady, for your kind offices," Walter saidearnestly; "for the present I am well content to remain at my craft,which is that of an armourer, until, at any rate, I have gained suchmanly strength and vigour as would fit me for a man-at-arms, and my goodmaster, Geoffrey Ward, will, without payment received, let me go when Iask that grace of him."
"Edith, go and look from the window at the boats passing along theriver; and now," she went on, as the girl had obeyed her orders, "Iwould fain ask you more about the interview you overhead in the marshes.Sir William de Hertford told me of the evidence that you had givenbefore the justice. It is passing strange that he who incited the otherto the deed should have been by him termed 'Sir Knight'. Maybe it wasmerely a nickname among his fellows."
"Before I speak, lady," Walter said quietly, "I would fain know whetheryou wish to be assured of the truth. Sometimes, they say, it is wiser toremain in ignorance; at other times forewarned is forearmed. Frankly, Idid not tell all I know before the court, deeming that peradventureyou might wish to see me, and that I could then tell the whole to yourprivate ear, should you wish to know it, and you could then bid meeither keep silence or proclaim all I knew when the trial of theseevil-doers comes on."
"You seem to me to be wise beyond your years, young sir," the lady said.
"The wisdom is not mine, lady, but my master's. I took counsel with him,and acted as he advised me.
"I would fain know all," the lady said. "I have already strangesuspicions of one from whom assuredly I looked not for such evildesigns. It will grieve me to be convinced that the suspicions are wellfounded; but it will be better to know the truth than to remain in astate of doubt."
"The person then was a knight, for I had seen him before when he came inknightly harness into my master's shop to have two rivets put intohis hauberk. I liked not his face then, and should have remembered itanywhere. I knew him at once when I saw him. He was a dark faced knight,handsome, and yet with features which reminded me of a hawk."
Dame Vernon gave a little exclamation, which assured the lad that sherecognized the description.
"You may partly know, lady, whether it is he whom you suppose, for hesaid that he would detain your boat so that it should not come alonguntil dark, and, moreover, he told them that they would know the boatsince you would be wrapt in a white mantle."
The lady sat for some time with her face hidden in her hands.
"It is as I feared," she said at last, "and it grieves me to the heartto think that one who, although not so nearly related in blood, Iregarded as a brother, should have betrayed me to death. My mind istroubled indeed, and I know not what course I shall take, whether toreveal this dreadful secret or to conceal it."
"I may say, madam," Walter said earnestly, "that should you wish thematter to remain a secret, you may rely upon it that I will tell nomore at the trial than I revealed yesterday; but I would remind you thatthere is a danger that the leader of yon ruffians, who is probably aloneacquainted with the name of his employer, may, under the influence ofthe torture, reveal it."
"That fear is for the present past, since a messenger arrived fromKingston but a few minutes since, saying that yester-even, under thethreat of torture, the prisoners had pointed out the one among theirnumber who was their chief. This morning, however, it was found that thewarder who had charge of them had been bribed; he was missing from hispost, and the door of the cell wherein the principal villain had beenimmured, apart from the others, was opened, and he had escaped."
"Then," Walter said, "it is now open to you to speak or be silent as youwill. You will pardon my forwardness if I say that my master, in talkingthe matter over with me, suggested that this evil knight might be scaredfrom attempting any future enterprise against you were he informed thatit was known to several persons that he
was the author of this outrage,and that if any further attempts were at any time made against you, theproofs of his crime would be laid before the king."
"Thanks, good lad," the lady said, "for your suggestion. Should I decideto keep the matter secret, I will myself send him a message to thateffect, in such guise that he would not know whence it comes. And now, Iwould fain reward you for what you have done for us; and," she went on,seeing a flush suddenly mount upon the lad's face, as he made a halfstep backwards, "before I saw you, had thought of offering you a purseof gold, which, although it would but poorly reward your services, wouldyet have proved useful to you when the time came for you to start as acraftsman on your own account; but now that I have seen you, I feel thatalthough there are few who think themselves demeaned by accepting giftsof money in reward for services, you would rather my gratitude took someother form. It can only do that of offering you such good services thatI can render with Earl Talbot, should you ever choose the profession ofarms; and in the meantime, as a memento of the lives you have saved, youwill, I am sure, not refuse this chain," and she took a very handsomeone of gold from her neck; "the more so since it was the gift of hermajesty, our gracious queen to myself. She will, I am sure, acquit me ofparting with her gift when I tell her that I transferred it to one whohad saved the lives of myself and my daughter, and who was too proud toaccept other acknowledgment."
Colouring deeply, and with tears in his eyes at the kindness andthoughtful consideration of the lady, Walter knelt on one knee beforeher, and she placed round his neck the long gold chain which she hadbeen wearing.
"It is a knight's chain," the lady said, smiling, "and was part of thespoil gained by King Edward from the French. Maybe," she added kindly,"it will be worn by a knight again. Stranger things have happened, youknow."
Walter flushed again with pleasure.
"Maybe, lady," he said modestly, "even apprentices have their dreams,and men-at-arms may always hope, by deeds of valour, to attain aknight's spurs even though they may not be of noble blood or have servedas page and squire to a baron; but whether as a 'prentice or soldier, Ihope I shall never do discredit to your gift."
"Edith, come here," Dame Vernon said, "I have done talking now. Andwhat are you going to give this brave knight of ours who saved us fromdrowning."
The girl looked thoughtfully at Walter. "I don't think you would carefor presents," she said; "and you look as if a sword or a horse wouldsuit you better than a girl's gift. And yet I should like to give yousomething, such as ladies give their knights who have done brave deedsfor them. It must be something quite my own, and you must take it as akeepsake. What shall it be, mamma?"
"Give him the bracelet which your cousin gave you last week," her mothersaid; "I would rather that you did not keep it, and I know you are notvery fond of him."
"I can't bear him," the girl said earnestly, "and I wish he would notkiss me; he always looks as if he were going to bite, and I will gladlygive his bracelet to this brave boy."
"Very well, Edith, fetch the bracelet from that coffer in the corner."
The girl went to the coffer and brought out the little bracelet, thenshe approached Walter.
"You must go down on your knee," she said; "true knights always do thatto receive their lady's gifts. Now hold out your hand. There," shewent on in a pretty imperious way, "take this gage as a reward of yourvalour, and act ever as a true knight in the service of your lady."
Bending down she dropt a kiss upon Walter's glowing cheek, and then,half frightened at her own temerity, ran back to her mother's side.
"And now," Dame Vernon went on, "will you thank your five comrades fortheir service in the matter, and give them each two gold pieces to spendas they will."
"He is a noble lad," Dame Vernon had said to herself when Walter hadtaken his leave. "Would he had been the son of one of the nobles of thecourt! It might have been then, if he distinguished himself in war, ashe would surely do, that the king might have assigned Edith to him. Asher lord and guardian he is certain to give her hand as a reward forvalour in the field, and it may well be to a man with whom she wouldbe less happy than with this 'prentice lad; but there, I need not betroubling myself about a matter which is five or six years distant yet.Still the thought that Edith is a ward of the crown, and that her handmust go where the king wills, often troubles me. However, I have a goodfriend in the queen, who will, I know, exert what influence she has ingetting me a good husband for my child. But even for myself I have somefears, since the king hinted, when last he saw me, that it was time Ilooked out for another mate, for that the vassal of Westerham and Hydeneeded a lord to lead them in the field. However, I hope that my answerthat they were always at his service under the leading of my cousinJames will suffice for him. Now, what am I to do in that matter? Whowould have thought that he so coveted my lands that he would have slainme and Edith to possess himself of them? His own lands a thrice as broadas mine, though men say that he has dipped deeply into them and owesmuch money to the Jews. He is powerful and has many friends, andalthough Earl Talbot would stand by me, yet the unsupported word ofan apprentice boy were but poor evidence on which to charge a powerfulbaron of such a crime as this. It were best, methinks, to say noughtabout it, but to bury the thought in my own heart. Nevertheless, I willnot fail to take the precaution which the lad advised, and to let SirJames know that there are some who have knowledge of his handiwork. Ihear he crosses the seas tomorrow to join the army, and it may be longere he return. I shall have plenty of time to consider how I had bestshape my conduct towards him on his return; but assuredly he shall neverbe friendly with me again, or frighten Edith with his kisses."
"Well, Walter, has it been such a dreadful business as you expected?"the armourer asked the lad when he re-entered the shop. "The great folkshave not eaten you at any rate."
"It has not been dreadful," Walter replied with a smile, "though I ownthat it was not pleasant when I first arrived at the great mansion; butthe lady put me quite at my ease, and she talked to me for some time,and finally she bestowed on me this chain, which our lady, the queen,had herself given her."
"It is a knight's chain and a heavy one," Geoffrey said, examiningit, "of Genoese work, I reckon, and worth a large sum. It will buy youharness when you go to the wars."
"I would rather fight in the thickest melee in a cloth doublet," Waltersaid indignantly, "than part with a single link of it."
"I did but jest, Walter," Geoffrey said laughing; "but as you will notsell it, and you cannot wear it, you had best give it me to put aside inmy strong coffer until you get of knightly rank."
"Lady Vernon said," the lad replied, "that she hoped one day it mightagain belong to a knight; and if I live," he added firmly, "it shall."
"Oh! she has been putting these ideas into your head; nice notions trulyfor a London apprentice! I shall be laying a complaint before the lordmayor against Dame Vernon, for unsettling the mind of my apprentice, andsetting him above his work. And the little lady, what said she? Did shegive you her colours and bid you wear them at a tourney?"
Walter coloured hotly.
"Ah! I have touched you," laughed the armourer; "come now, out with thetruth. My lad," he added more gravely, "there is no shame in it; youknow that I have always encouraged your wishes to be a soldier, and havedone my best to render you as good a one as any who draws sword 'neaththe king's banner, and assuredly I would not have taken all these painswith you did I think that you were always to wear an iron cap and traila pike. I too, lad, hope some day to see you a valiant knight, and havereasons that you wot not of, for my belief that it will be so. No manrises to rank and fame any the less quickly because he thinks thatbright eyes will grow brighter at his success."
"But, Geoffrey, you are talking surely at random. The Lady Edith Vernonis but a child; a very beautiful child," he added reverently, "and suchthat when she grows up, the bravest knight in England might be proudto win. What folly for me, the son of a city bowyer, and as yet but anapprentice, to raise mine eyes so h
igh!"
"The higher one looks the higher one goes," the armourer saidsententiously. "You aspire some day to become a knight, you may wellaspire also to win the hand of Mistress Edith Vernon. She is five yearsyounger than yourself, and you will be twenty-two when she is seventeen.You have time to make your way yet, and I tell you, though why itmatters not, that I would rather you set your heart on winning MistressEdith Vernon than any other heiress of broad lands in merry England. Youhave saved her life, and so have made the first step and a long one.Be ever brave, gentle, and honourable, and, I tell you, you need notdespair; and now, lad, we have already lost too much time in talking;let us to our work."
That evening Walter recalled to Geoffrey his promise to tell him thecauses which had involved England in so long and bloody a war withFrance.
"It is a tangled skein," Geoffrey said, "and you must follow mecarefully. First, with a piece of chalk I will draw upon the wall thepedigree of the royal line of France from Phillip downwards, and thenyou will see how it is that our King Edward and Phillip of Valois cameto be rival claimants to the throne of France.
"Now, you see that our King Edward is nephew of Charles le Bel, the lastKing of France, while Phillip of Valois is only nephew of Phillip leBel, the father of Charles. Edward is consequently in the direct line,and had Isabella been a man instead of a woman his right to the thronewould be unquestionable. In France, however, there is a law calledthe 'Salic' law, which excludes females from the throne; but it ismaintained by many learned in the law, that although a female is held tobe incompetent to reign because from her sex she cannot lead her armiesto battle, yet she no ways forfeits otherwise her rights, and that herson is therefore the heir to the throne. If this contention, whichis held by all English jurists, and by many in France also, be wellfounded, Edward is the rightful King of France. Phillip of Valoiscontends that the 'Salic law' not only bars a female from ascending thethrone, but also destroys all her rights, and that the succession goesnot to her sons but to the next heir male; in which case, of course,Phillip is rightful king. It is not for me to say which view is theright one, but certainly the great majority of those who have beenconsulted have decided that, according to ancient law and usage, theright lies with Edward. But in these matters 'right is not alwaysmight.' Had Isabella married a French noble instead of an Englishking it is probable that her son's claim to the throne would have beenallowed without dispute, but her son is King of England, and the Frenchnobles prefer being ruled by one of themselves to becoming united withEngland under one king.
"At the time of the death of the last king, Edward was still but a boyunder the tuition of his mother, Phillip was a man, and upon the spot,therefore he was able to win support by presence and promises, and soit came that the peers of France declared Phillip of Valois to be theirrightful monarch. Here in England, at parliament held at Northampton,the rights of Edward were discussed and asserted, and the Bishops ofWorcester and Coventry were despatched to Paris to protest against thevalidity of Phillip's nomination. As, however, the country was not ina position to enforce the claim of their young king by arms, Phillipbecame firmly seated as King of France, and having shown great energy inat once marching against and repressing the people of Flanders, who werein a state of rebellion against their count, one of the feudatories ofthe French crown, the nobles were well satisfied with their choice, andno question as to his right was ever henceforth raised in France. Assoon as the rebellion in Flanders was crushed, Phillip summoned the Kingof England to do homage for Aquitaine, Ponthieu and Montreuil, fiefsheld absolutely from the crown of France. Such a proceeding placedEdward and his council in a great embarrassment. In case of a refusalthe whole of the possessions of the crown in France might be declaredforfeited and be seized, while England was in no condition to defendthem; on the other hand, the fact of doing homage to Phillip of Valoiswould be a sort of recognition of his right to the throne he hadassumed. Had Edward then held the reins of power in his hands, therecan be little doubt that he would at once have refused, and would havecalled out the whole strength of England to enforce his claim. Theinfluence of Isabella and Mortimer was, however, all powerful, andit was agreed that Edward should do homage as a public act, making aprivate reservation in secret to his own councillors, taking exceptionto the right of Phillip.
"Edward crossed to France and journeyed to Amiens, where Phillip witha brilliant court awaited him, and on the appointed day they appearedtogether in the cathedral. Here Edward, under certain protestations, didhomage for his French estates, leaving certain terms and questions openfor the consideration of his council. For some time the matter remainedin this shape; but honest men cannot but admit that King Edward did, byhis action at the time, acknowledge Phillip to be King of France, andthat he became his vassal for his estates there; but, as has happenedscores of times before, and will no doubt happen scores of times again,vassals, when they become powerful enough, throw off their allegiance totheir feudal superiors, and so the time came to King Edward.
"After the death of Mortimer and the imprisonment of Isabella, the kinggave rein to his taste for military sports. Tournaments were held atDartford and other places, one in Westcheape. What a sight was that, tobe sure! For three days the king, with fourteen of his knights, held thelist against all comers, and in the sight of the citizens and the ladiesof the court, jousted with knights who came hither from all parts ofEurope. I was there each day and the sight was a grand one, thoughEngland was well-nigh thrown into mourning by an accident which tookplace. The gallery in which the queen and her attendants were viewingthe sports had been badly erected, and in the height of the contestsit gave way. The queen and her ladies were in great peril, being thrownfrom a considerable height, and a number of persons were severelyinjured. The king, who was furious at the danger to which the queen hadbeen exposed, would have hung upon the spot the master workman whosenegligence had caused the accident, but the queen went on her kneesbefore him and begged his life of the king. The love of Edward forwarlike exercises caused England to be regarded as the most chivalrouscourt in Europe, and the frequent tournaments aroused to the utmost thespirits of the people and prepared them for the war with France. But ofthe events of that war I will tell you some other night. It is time nowfor us to betake us to our beds."
CHAPTER V: THE CITY GAMES