CHAPTER VIII
THE CROSSING OF THE FORD
It was still early morning of the great day, when Sholto and LaurenceMacKim, leaving their mother in the kitchen, and their young sisterMagdalen trying a yet prettier knot to her kerchief, took their way bythe fords of Glen Lochar to an eminence then denominated plainly theWhinny Knowe, the same which afterwards gained and has kept to thisday the more fatal designation of Knock Cannon. The lads were dressedas became the sons of so prosperous a craftsman (and master armourerto boot) as Malise MacKim of the Carlinwark.
Laurence, the younger, wore his archer's jack over the suit of purplevelvet, high boots of yellow leather, and, withal, a dainty cap setfar back on his head, from which sprouted the wing of a blackcock inas close imitation as Master Laurence dared compass of the EarlDouglas himself. His bow was slung at his back all ready for theinspection. A sash of orange silk was twisted about his slim waist,and in this he would set his thumb knowingly, and stare boldly asoften as the pair of brothers overtook a pretty girl. For MasterLaurence loved beauty, and thought not lightly of his own.
Sholto, though, as we shall soon see, despised not love, had eyes morefor the knights and men-at-arms, and considered that his heaven wouldbe fully attained as soon as he should ride one of those greatprancing horses, and carry a lance with the pennon of the Douglas uponit.
Meanwhile he wore the steel cap of the home guard, the ringed neckmail, the close-fitting doublet of blue dotted over with red Douglashearts and having the white cross of St. Andrew transversely upon it.About his waist was a peaked brace of shining plate armour, damascenedin gold by Malise himself, and filling out his almost girlish waist tomanlier proportions. From this depended a row of tags of soft leather.Close chain-mail covered his legs, to which at the knees were addedcaps of triple plate. A sheaf of arrows in a blue and gold quiver onhis right side, a sword of metal on his left, and a short Scottish bowin his hand completed the attire of a fully equipped and efficientarcher of the Earl's guard.
The lads were soon at the fords of Lochar, where in the dry summersthe stones show all the way across--one in the midst being named theBlack Douglas, noted as the place where, as tradition affirms,Archibald the Grim used to pause in crossing the ford to look at hisnew fortress of Thrieve, rising on its impregnable island above therich water meadows.
Now neither Sholto nor Laurence wished to wet their leg array beforethe work and pageant of the day began. This was the desire ofLaurence, because of the maids who would assemble on the BorelandBraes, and of Sholto inasmuch as he hoped to win the prize for thebest accoutrement and the most point-device attiring among all thearchers of the Earl's guard. The young men had asked crusty SimonConchie, the boatman at the Ferry Croft, to set them over, offeringhim a groat for his pains. But he was far too busy to pay anyattention to mere silver coin on such an occasion, only pausing longenough to cry to them that they must e'en cross at the fords, as manyof their betters would do that day.
There was nothing for it, therefore, but either to strip to the waistor to wait the chances of the traffic. Both Sholto and Laurence wereexceedingly loath to take the former course. They had not, however,long to hesitate, for a train of sumpter mules, belonging to the LordHerries of Terregles, whose father had been with Archibald the Tinemanin France, came up laden with the choicest products of the bordercountry which he designed to offer as part of the "Service-Kane" tohis overlord, the Earl of Douglas.
Now mules are all of them snorting, ill-conditioned brutes, and areever ready to run away upon the least excuse, or even without any. Soas soon as those of Lord Herries' train caught the glint of Sholto'sblue baldric and shining steel girdle-brace appearing suddenly frombehind a knoll, they incontinently bolted every way with noses to theground, scattering packs and brandishing heels like young colts turnedout to grass. It chanced that one of the largest mules made directlytowards the fords of Lochar, and the youths, catching the flyingbridle at either side, applied a sort of brake which sufficientlyslowed the beast's movements to enable such agile skipjacks as Sholtoand Laurence to mount. But as they were concerned more with theirleaping from the ground than with what was already upon the animal'sback, their heads met with a crash in the midst, in which collisionthe superior weight of the younger had very naturally the better ofthe encounter.
Sholto dropped instantly back to the ground. He was somewhat stunnedby the blow, but the sight of his brother triumphantly splashingthrough the shallows aroused him. He arose, and seizing the firststone that came to hand hurled it after Laurence, swearing fraternallythat he would smite him in the brisket with a dirk as soon as hecaught him for that dastard blow. The first stone flew wide, thoughthe splash caused the mule to shy into deeper water, to the damping ofhis rider's legs. But the second, being better aimed, took the animalfairly on the rump, and, fetching up on a fly-galled spot, frightenedit with bumping bags and loud squeals into the woods of Glen Lochar,which come down close to the fords on every side. Here presentlyLaurence found himself, like Absalom, caught in the branches of abeech, and left hanging between heaven and earth. A rider in completeplate of black mail caught him down, still holding on to his bow, and,placing him across the saddle, brought down the flat of his gauntletedhand upon a spot of the lad's person which, being uncovered by mail,responded with a resounding smack. Then, amid the boisterous laughterof the men-at-arms, he let Laurence slip to the ground.
But the younger son of Brawny Kim, master armourer of Carlinwark, wasnot the lad to take such an insult meekly, even from a man-at-armsriding on horseback. He threw his bow into the nearest thicket, andseizing the most convenient ammunition, which chanced to be in greatplenty that day upon the braes of Balmaghie, pursued his insulteralong the glade with such excellent aim and good effect that theblack unadorned armour of the horseman showed disks of defilement allover, like a tree trunk covered with toadstool growths.
"Shoot down the intolerable young rascal! Shall he thus beard my LordMaxwell?" cried a voice from the troop which witnessed the chase. Andmore than one bow was bent, and several hand-fusils levelled from thecompany which followed behind.
But the injured knight threw up his visor.
"Hold, there!" he cried, "the boy is right. It was I who insulted him,and he did right to be revenged, though the rogue's aim is more to beadmired than his choice of weapons. Come hither, lad. Tell me who thouart, and what is thy father's quality?"
"I am Laurence MacKim, an archer of my lord's guard, and the youngerson of Malise MacKim, master armourer to the Douglas."
Laurence, being still angry, rang out his titles as if they had beeninscribed in the book of the Lion-King-at-Arms.
"Saints save us," cried the knight in swart armour, "all that!"
Then, seeing the boy ready to answer back still more fiercely, hecontinued with a courteous wave of the hand.
"I humbly ask your pardon, Master Laurence. I am glad the son ofBrawny Kim hath no small part of his father's spirit. Will you takeservice and be my esquire, as becomes well a lad of parts who desiresto win his way to a knighthood?"
The heart of Laurence MacKim beat quickly--a horse to ride--anesquire--perhaps if he had luck and much fighting, a knighthood.Nevertheless, he answered with a bold straight look out of his blackeyes.
"I am an archer of my lord Douglas' outer guard. I can have nopromotion save from him or those of his house--not even from the Kinghimself."
"Well said!" cried the knight; "small wonder that the Douglas is thegreatest man in Scotland. I will speak to the Earl William this dayconcerning you."
Lord Maxwell rode on at the head of his company with a courteoussalutation, which not a few behind him who had heard the colloquyimitated. Laurence stood there with his heart working like yeastwithin him, and his colour coming and going to think what he had beenoffered and what he had refused.
"God's truth," he said to himself, "I might have been a great man if Ihad chosen, while Sholto, that old sober sides, was left laggingbehind."
Then he looked about fo
r his bow and went swaggering along as if hewere already Sir Laurence and the leader of an army.
But Nemesis was upon him, and that in the fashion which his pridewould feel the most.
"Take that, beast of a Laurence!" cried a voice behind him.
And the lad received a jolt from behind which loosened his teeth intheir sockets and discomposed the dignified stride with which inimagination he was commanding the armies of the Douglas.