Earl Rolf spake quietly in answer, though his face was somewhattroubled: "Nay, Simon, I doubt thee not, not one word; for why shouldestthou lie to me? nor do I deem thou wouldest, for thou art trusty andworthy. Yet sore I doubt if the child be dead. Well, even so let it be,for I am alive; and full surely I am mightier than Jack of the Tofts,both to uphold thee against him (wherein I shall not fail), andotherwise. But may God make me even as that young man if I be notmightier yet in a few days. But now do thou go and eat and drink andtake thy disport; for thou hast served me well; and in a little while Ishall make thee knight and lord, and do all I can to pleasure thee."
So then Simon knelt to the Earl and made obeisance to him, and arose andwent his ways, light-hearted and merry.
But within the month it so befel that some of the lords and dukes cameto the Earl Marshal, and prayed him to call together a great Folk-moteof all Oakenrealm; and he answered them graciously, and behight them todo as they would; and even so did he.
And that Mote was very great, and whenas it was hallowed, there arosea great lord, grey and ancient, and bewailed him before the folk, thatthey had no king over Oakenrealm to uphold the laws & ward the land; and"Will ye live bare and kingless for ever?" said he at last. "Will yenot choose you a king, and crown him, before I die, and we others of therealm who are old and worn?" Then he sat down, and another arose, and inplain terms he bade them take the Earl Marshal to king. And then aroseone after other, and each sang the same song, till the hearts of thepeople grew warm with the big words, and at first many, and then morecried out: "A King, a King! The Earl Marshal for King! Earl Rolf forKing!" So that at last the voices rose into a great roar, and swordclashed on shield, and they who were about the Earl turned to him andupraised him on a great war-shield, and he stood thereon above the folkwith a naked sword in his hand, and all the folk shouted about him.
Thereafter the chiefs and all the mightiest came and did homage to himfor King of Oakenrealm as he sat on the Hill of the Folk-mote: and thatnight there was once more a King of Oakenrealm, and Earl Rolf was nomore, but King Rolf ruled the people.
But now the tale leaves telling of him, and turns again to Christopherthe woodman, who lay sick of his hurt in the House of the Tofts.
CHAPTER X. OF CHRISTOPHER AT THE TOFTS.
Christopher was six weeks ere he could come and go as he was wont; butit was but a few days ere he was well enough to tell his tale to Jack ofthe Tofts and his seven bold sons; and they cherished him and mademuch of him, and so especially did David, the youngest son, to hisboard-fellow and troth-brother.
On a day when he was well-nigh whole, as he sat under an oak-tree nighthe house, in the cool of the evening, Jack of the Tofts came to him andsat beside him, and made him tell his tale to him once more, and when hewas done he said to him: "Foster-son, for so I would have thee deem ofthyself, what is the thing that thou rememberest earliest in thy days?"
Said Christopher: "A cot without the Castle walls at the UttermostMarches, and a kind woman therein, big, sandy-haired, and freckled, anda lad that was white-haired and sturdy, somewhat bigger than I. AndI mind me standing up against the door-post of the cot and seeingmen-at-arms riding by in white armour, and one of them throwing an appleto me, and I raised my arm to throw it back at him, but my nurse (forsomehow I knew she was not my mother) caught my hand and drew me backindoors, and I heard the men laughing behind me. And then a little aftermy nurse took me into the Castle court, and there was again the man whohad thrown me the apple, sitting on a bench therein, clad in a scarletgown furred with brown fur; and she led me up to him, and he stoopeddown and chucked me under the chin and put his hand on my head, andlooked at my nurse and said: 'Yea, he is a big lad, and groweth apace,whereas he is but of six winters.' 'Nay, Lord,' said my nurse, 'he isbut scantly five.' He knit his brows and said: 'Nay, I tell thee he issix.' She shook her head, but said nought, and the great man scowled onher and said: 'Mistress, wilt thou set thy word against mine? Know nowthat this child is of six years. Now then, how old is he?' She saidfaintly: 'Six years.' Said he: 'Look to it that thy head and thy mouthforget it not, else shall we make thy back remember it.' Then he put hishand on my head again, and said: 'Well, I say thou art a big lad for sixyears;' and therewith he gave me a silver penny; and even as he spake,came up a grey-clad squire to him and looked on me curiously. Then Iwent away with my nurse, and wondered why she was grown so pale, whereasshe was mostly red-cheeked and jolly. But when she had brought me intothe cot again, she kissed me and clipped me, weeping sorely the while;wherefore I wept, though I knew not why. Sithence, I soon came to knowthat the man was the lord and governor of the Castle, as ye may wellwot; but to this hour I know not what he meant by threatening my nurse."
Said Jack: "And how old art thou now, Christopher mine?"
Said the youngling, laughing: "By my lord the Castellan's reckoning I amtwenty and two years; but if thou wilt trow my good and kind nurse, thatyet liveth a kind dame, thou must take twelve months off the tale."
Jack sat silent a little; then he laughed and said: "Well, thou art amickle babe, Christopher, and it may be that one day many a man shallknow it. But now tell me again; thou hadst said to me before that thouhast known neither father nor mother, brother nor sisters: is it so,verily?"
Said Christopher: "Never a kinsman of blood have I, though manywell-wishers."
Said Jack: "Well, now hast thou father and mother, brethren and sisters,though they be of the sort of man-slayers and strong-thieves andoutlaws; yet they love thee, lad, and thou mayst one day find out howfar thou mayst trust them."
Christopher nodded and smiled at him merrily; then he fell silentawhile, and the outlaw sat looking on him; at last he said suddenly:"Foster-father, tell me what I am, and of what kindred, I pray thee;for, methinks, thou knowest thereof; and what wonder, wise man as thouart."
"Forsooth, son Christopher, I have a deeming thereof, or somewhat more,and when it is waxen greater yet, I will tell it thee one day, but notnow. But hearken! for I have other tidings for thee. Thou art now wholeand strong, and in a few days thou mayst wend the wild-wood as stoutlyas e'er a one of us. Now, therefore, how sayest thou, if I bid thee farea two days' journey with David and Gilbert thy brethren, and thy sisterJoanna, till they bring thee to a fair little stead which I call mineown, to dwell there awhile? For, meseemeth, lad, that the air of theTofts here may not be overwholesome unto thee."
Christopher reddened, and he half rose up, and said: "What is this,foster-father? Is it that there shall be battle at the Tofts, and thatthou wouldst have me away thence? Am I then such a weakling?"
Said Jack, laughing: "Be still now, thou sticked one. The Tofts go downto battle at some whiles; but seldom comet battle to the Tofts; and nobattle do I look for now. But do my bidding, sweet fosterling, and itwill be better for me and better for thee, and may, perchance, put offbattle for awhile; which to me as now were not unhandy. If thou wiltbut abide at Littledale for somewhile, there shall be going and comingbetwixt us, and thou shalt drink thy Yule at the Tofts, and go backafterwards, and ever shalt thou have thy sweet fellows with thee; so bewise, since thou goest not perforce."
"Yea, yea," said Christopher, laughing; "thou puttest force on no man,is it not so, foster-father? Wherefore I will go, and uncompelled."
Therewith came up to them, from out of the wild-wood, David, and withhim Joanna, who was the wife of Gilbert, and one of those fair maidensfrom the Wailful Castle, though not the fairest of them; they had beena-hunting, for ever those three would willingly go together, Gilbert,David, and Joanna; and now Gilbert had abided behind, to dight thequarry for fetching home. Christopher looked on the two joyfully, as aman getting whole after sickness smiles on goodly things; and Joanna wasfair to see in her hunter's attire, with brogues tied to her naked feet,and the shapeliness of her legs bare to the knee beneath the trussing upof her green skirts.
They greeted Christopher kindly, and Joanna sat down by him to talk,but Jack of the Tofts took his son by the arm, and went toward
the housewith him in earnest speech.
CHAPTER XI. HOW CHRISTOPHER CAME TO LITTLEDALE TO ABIDE THERE A WHILE.
In about a week's time from this, those four fellows went their wayssouthward from the Tofts, having with them four good nags and foursumpter beasts laden with such things as they needed, whereof wereweapons enough, though they all, save Christopher, bare bows; and heand the others were girt with swords, and a leash of good dogs followedthem. Two milch kine also they drave with them.
Merry they were all as they went their ways through the woods, but thegladness of Christopher was even past words; wherefore, after a little,he spake scarce at all, but sat in his saddle hearkening the tales andsongs and jests of his fellows, who went close beside him, for moreoften they went a-foot than rode. And, forsooth, as the sweet morningwore, it seemed to him, so great was his joy, as if all the fair showof the greenery, and the boles of the ancient oaks, and the squirrelsrunning from bough to bough, and the rabbits scuttling from under thebracken, and the hind leaping in the wood-lawn, and the sun fallingthrough the rustling leaves, and the wind on his face, and the scent ofthe forest, yea, and his fair companions and their loveliness & valiancyand kindness, and the words and songs that came from their dear mouths,all these seemed to him, as it were, one great show done for the behoofand pleasure of him, the man come from the peril of death and thesick-bed.
They lay that night in all glee under the green boughs; and arose on themorrow, and went all day, and again slept in the greenwood, and thenext morning came down into a fair valley, which was indeed Littledale,through which ran a pleasant little river; and on a grassy knoll, buta short way from its bank, was a long framed hall, somewhat narrow,and nought high, whitherward they turned them straightway, and werepresently before the door; then Gilbert drew a key from out of his scripand unlocked the door, and they entered, and found within a fair littlehall, with shut-beds out from it on the further side, and kitchen, andstore-bowers at the end; all things duly appointed with plenishing, andmeal and wine; for it was but some three months since one of Jack of theTofts' allies, Sir Launcelot a'Green and his wife and two bairns, hadleft it till their affair was made straight; whereas he had dwelt therea whole year, for he had been made an outlaw of Meadham, and was a dearfriend of the said Jack.
"Now," said David smiling, "here is now thy high house and thy castle,little King Christopher; how doth it like thee?"
"Right well," said Christopher; "and, to say sooth, I would almost thatit were night, or my bones do else, that I might lie naked in a bed."
"Nay, lad," said Gilbert, "make it night now, and we will do all thatneeds must be done, while thou liest lazy, as all kings use to do."
"Nay," said Christopher, "I will be more a king than so, for I will doneither this nor that; I will not work and I will not go to bed, butwill look on, till it is time for me to take to the crooked stick andthe grey-goose wing and seek venison."
"That is better than well," said David; "for I can see by thine eyes,that are dancing with pleasure, that in three or four days thou wilt beabout the thickets with us."
"Meantime," said Joanna, "thou shalt pay for thy meat and drink bytelling us tales when we come home weary."
"Yea," said Christopher laughing, "that ye may go to sleep before yourtime."
So they talked, and were joyous and blithe together, and between themthey made the house trim, and decked it with boughs and blossoms; andthough Christopher told them no tale that night, Joanna and David sangboth; and in a night or two it was Christopher that was the minstrel. Sowhen the morrow came there began their life of the woodland; but, savefor the changing of the year and the chances of the hunt, the timepassed on from day to day with little change, and it was but seldom thatany man came their way. When Yule was, they locked the house door behindthem and went their ways home to the Tofts; and now of all of thesewayfarers was Christopher by far the hardest and strongest, for his sidehad utterly forgotten Simon's knife. At the Tofts they were welcomedwith all triumph, and they were about there in the best of cheer, tillit was wearing toward Candlemas, and then they took occasion of a brightand sunny day to go back to Littledale once more, and there they abodetill spring was come and was wearing into summer, and messages had comeand gone betwixt them and the Tofts, and it was agreed that with thefirst of autumn they should go back to the Tofts and see what shouldbetide.
But now leave we Christopher and these good fellows of the Tofts andturn to Goldilind, who is yet dwelling amid no very happy days in theCastle of Greenharbour, on the northernmost marches of Meadham.
CHAPTER XII. OF GOLDILIND IN THE MAY MORNING AT GREENHARBOUR.
May was on the land now, and was come into its second week, andGoldilind awoke on a morn in the Castle of Greenharbour; but little didher eyes behold of the May, even when they were fully open; for shewas lying, not in her own chamber, which was proper, and even somewhatstately, and from whence she could look on the sky and greenwood, butin a chamber low down amidst the footings of the wall, little lighted,unadorned, with nought in it for sport or pleasure; nought, forsooth,save the pallet bed on which she lay, a joint stool and water ewer.To be short, though it were called the Least Guard-chamber, it was aprison, and she was there dreeing her penance, as Dame Elinor wouldcall the cruelty of her malice, which the chaplain, Dame Elinor'sled captain, had ordained her for some sin which the twain had forgedbetween them.
She lay there naked in her smock, with no raiment anigh her, and thiswas the third morning whereon she had awakened to the dusky bare walls,and a long while had their emptiness made of the hours: but she layquiet and musing, not altogether without cheer now; for indeed she wasnot wont to any longer penance than this she had but now tholed, so shelooked for release presently: and, moreover, there had grown in her mindduring those three days a certain purpose; to wit, that she would gethold of the governor of the castle privily, and two or three others ofthe squires who most regarded her, and bewail her case to them, so thatshe might perchance get some relief. Forsooth, as she called to mindthis resolve, her heart beat and her cheek flushed, for well she knewthat there was peril in it, and she forecast what might be the worstthat would come thereof, while, on the other hand, the best that mightbe seemed to her like a glimpse of Paradise.
As she lay there and turned the matter over in her mind for this many anhundred time, there came a key into the lock, and the door opened;and thereby entered a tall woman, dark-haired, white-skinned, somewhatyoung, and not ill-favoured: Goldilind still lay there, till thenew-comer said to her in a hard voice, wherein was both threatening andmockery: "Rise up, our Lady! the Dame Elinor saith that it is enough,and that thou art to go forth. Nay, hold a while; for I say unto theethat it is yet early in the day, and that thy chamber is not yet dightfor thee, so thou must needs bestow thyself elsewhere till it be done."
Goldilind rose up, and said smiling: "Yea, Aloyse, but thou hast notbrought my raiment: and thou seest!"
The maid stood looking at her a moment somewhat evilly, and then said:"Well, since it is but scant six o'clock, I may do that; but I bid theeask me not overmuch; for meseemeth Dame Elinor is not overwell pleasedwith thee to-day, nor our chaplain either."
Therewith she turned and went out, locking the door behind her, and cameback presently bearing on her arm a green gown and other raiment: shelaid them on the stool before the Lady, and said: "Hasten, my Lady, andlet me go to my place: sooth to say, it may well be double trouble tothee to don thy clothes, for thou mayst have to doff them again beforelong."
Goldilind answered nought, but reddened and paled again as she clad herunder the waiting-maid's eyes. Then they went out together, and up ashort stone stair, till they were level with the greensward without.Then the maid turned to Goldilind and said: "And now thou art clad andout, my Lady, I wot not where thou art to go to, since to thy chamberthou must not go. Nay, hold and hearken! here we be at the door whichopens on to the Foresters' Garth under the Foresters' Tower, thithershalt thou abide till I come to fetch thee. How now, my Lady!
what elsewouldst thou?"
Goldilind looked on her with a smile, yet with eagereyes, and said: "Ogood Aloyse, wouldst thou but give me a piece of bread? for I hunger;thou wottest my queenly board hath not been overloaded these last days."
"Ha!" said Aloyse; "if thou ask me overmuch I fear thou mayst pay forit, my Lady; but this last asking thou shalt have, and then none othertill all thy penance thou hast dreed. Abide!"
Therewith she went up the stairs, and Goldilind, who now was but weakwith her prison and the sudden light, and the hope and fear of herpurpose of bewailing her story, sat her down on the stair there, almost,as it were, 'twixt home and hell, till her heart came back to her andthe tears began to flow from her eyes. Forthright came back Aloyse,bearing a white loaf and a little pitcher of milk on a silverserving-dish; she laid them down, unlocked the door into the garden, andthrust Goldilind through by the shoulders; then she turned and took upher serving-dish with the bread and milk, and handed it to Goldilindthrough the door, and said: "Now is my Lady served. It were indeed wellthat my Lady should strengthen herself this hour for the hour next tocome."
Therewith she turned about, and shut and locked the door; and the King'sdaughter fell to eagerly on her bread, and thought of little tillshe had eaten and drunk, save that she felt the sweet scent of thegilliflowers and eglantine as it were a part of her meal.
Child Christopher and Goldilind the Fair Page 4