CHAPTER XXIII
SHOLTO WINS KNIGHTHOOD
The ambassador recovered quickly after he had been left with hisservant Poitou, according to the latter's request. The Lady Sybillamanifested the most tender concern in the matter of the accident ofjudgment which had been the means of diverting her kinsman from hisown opponent and bringing him into collision with the Earl Douglas.
"Often have I striven with my lord that he should ride no more in thelists," she said, "for since he received the lance-thrust in the eyeby the side of La Pucelle before the walls of Orleans, he sees no morearight, but bears ever in the direction of the eye which sees and awayfrom that wherein he had his wound."
"Indeed, I knew not that the Marshal de Retz had been wounded in theeye, or I should not have permitted him to ride in the tourney,"returned the Earl, gravely. "The fault was mine alone."
The Lady Sybilla smiled upon him very sweetly and graciously.
"You are great soldiers--you Douglases. Six knights are chosen fromthe muster of half a kingdom to ride a _melee_. Four are Douglases,and, moreover, cousins germain in blood."
"Indeed, we might well have compassed the sword-play," said the EarlWilliam, "for in our twenty generations we never learned aught else.Our arms are strong enough and our skulls thick enough, for even mineuncle, the Abbot, hath his Latin by the ear. And one Semple, a plainburgher of Dumfries, did best him at it--or at least would have shamedhim, but that he desired not to lose the custom of the Abbey."
"When you come to France," replied the girl, smiling on him, "it willindeed be stirring to see you ride a bout with young Messire Lalain,the champion of Burgundy, or with that Miriadet of Dijon, whose arm islike that of a giant and can fell an ox at a blow."
"Truly," said the young Earl, modestly, "you do me overmuch honour. Mycousin James there, he is the champion among us, and alone couldeasily have over-borne me to-day, without the aid of your uncle'sblind eye. Even William of Avondale is a better lance than I, andyoung Hugh will be when his time comes."
"Your squire fought a good fight," she went on, "though hiscountenance does not commend itself to me, being full of allself-sufficience."
"Sholto--yes; he is his father's son and fought well. He is a MacKim,and cannot do otherwise. He will make a good knight, and, by SaintBride, I will dub him one, ere this sun set, for his valiant laying onof the axe this day."
The great muster was now over. The tents which had been dotted thicklyathwart the castle island were already mostly struck, and the groundwas littered with miscellaneous debris, soon to be carried off intrail carts with square wooden bodies set on boughs of trees, andflung into the river, by the Earl's varlets and stablemen.
The multitudinous liegemen of the Douglas were by this time streaminghomewards along every mountain pass. Over the heather and through theabounding morasses horse and foot took their way, no longer marchingin military order, as when they came, but each lance taking the routewhich appeared the shortest to himself. North, east, and westspear-heads glinted and armour flashed against the brown of theheather and the green of the little vales, wherein the horses benttheir heads to pull at the meadow hay as their riders sought thenearest way back again to their peel-towers and forty-shilling lands.
It was at the great gate of Thrieve that the Earl called aloud forSholto. He had been speaking to his cousin William, a strong, silentman, whose repute was highest for good counsel among all the branchesof the house of Douglas.
Sholto came forward from the head of his archer guard with a hastewhich betrayed his anxiety lest in some manner he had exceeded hisduty. The Earl bade him kneel down. A little behind, the youngDouglases of Avondale, William, James, and Hugh, sat their horses,while the boy David, who had been left at home to keep the castle,looked forth disconsolately from the window of the great hall. On thesteps stood the little Maid Margaret and her companion, Maud Lindesay,who had come down to meet the returning train of riders. And, truth totell, that was what Sholto cared most about. He did not wish to bedisgraced before them all.
So as he knelt with an anxious countenance before his lord, the Earltook his cousin William's sword out of his hand, and, laying it on theshoulder of Sholto MacKim, he said, "Great occasions bring forth goodmen, and even one battle tries the temper of the sword. You, Sholto,have been quickly tried, but thy father hath been long tempering you.Three days agone you were but one of the archer guard, yesterday youwere made its captain, to-day I dub you knight for the strong courageof the heart that is within, and the valiant service which this dayyou did your lord. Rise, Sir Sholto!"
But for all that he rose not immediately, for the head of the youngman whirled, and little drumming pulses beat in his temples. His heartcried within him like the overword of a song, "Does she hear? Will shecare? Will this bring me nearer to her?" So that, in spite of hislord's command, he continued to kneel, till lusty James of Avondalecame and caught him by the elbow. "Up, Sir Knight, and give grace andgood thank to your lord. Not your head but mine hath a right to bemuzzy with the coup I gat this day on the green meadow of the BoatCroft."
And practical William of Avondale whispered in his cousin's ear, "Andthe lands for the youth that we spoke of."
"Moreover," said the Earl, "that you may suitably support theknighthood which your sword has won, I freely bestow on you theforty-shilling lands of Aireland and Lincolns with Screel and BenGairn, on condition that you and yours shall keep the watch-fires laidready for the lighting, and that in time you rear you sturdy yeomen tobear in the Douglas train the banneret of MacKim of Aireland."
Sholto stood before his generous lord trembling and speechless, whileJames Douglas shook him by the elbow and encouraged him roughly, "Saythy say, man; hast lost thy tongue?"
But William Douglas nodded approval of the youth.
"Nay," he said, "let alone, James! I like the lad the better that hehath no ready tongue. 'Tis not the praters that fight as this youthhath fought this day!"
So all that Sholto found himself able to do, was no more than to kneelon one knee and kiss his master's hand.
"I am too young," he muttered. "I am not worthy."
"Nay," said his master, "but you have fairly won your spurs. They mademe a knight when I was but two years of my age, and I cried all thetime for my nurse, your good mother, who, when she came, comforted mewith pap. Surely it was right that I should make a place for myfoster-brother within the goodly circle of the Douglas knights."
"I AM TOO YOUNG," HE MUTTERED; "I AM NOT WORTHY."]