The Little Duke: Richard the Fearless

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER IX

  Montemar was too near the frontier to be a safe abode for the littleDuke, and his uncle, Count Hubert of Senlis, agreed with Bernard the Danethat he would be more secure beyond the limits of his own duchy, whichwas likely soon to be the scene of war; and, sorely against his will, hewas sent in secret, under a strong escort, first to the Castle of Coucy,and afterwards to Senlis.

  His consolation was, that he was not again separated from his friends;Alberic, Sir Eric, and even Fru Astrida, accompanied him, as well as hisconstant follower, Osmond. Indeed, the Baron would hardly bear that heshould be out of his sight; and he was still so carefully watched, thatit was almost like a captivity. Never, even in the summer days, was heallowed to go beyond the Castle walls; and his guardians would fain havehad it supposed that the Castle did not contain any such guest.

  Osmond did not give him so much of his company as usual, but was alwaysat work in the armourer's forge--a low, vaulted chamber, opening into theCastle court. Richard and Alberic were very curious to know what he didthere; but he fastened the door with an iron bar, and they were forced tocontent themselves with listening to the strokes of the hammer, keepingtime to the voice that sang out, loud and cheerily, the song of "Sigurd'ssword, and the maiden sleeping within the ring of flame." Fru Astridasaid Osmond was quite right--no good weapon-smith ever toiled with opendoors; and when the boys asked him questions as to his work, he onlysmiled, and said that they would see what it was when the call to armsshould come.

  They thought it near at hand, for tidings came that Louis had assembledhis army, and marched into Normandy to recover the person of the youngDuke, and to seize the country. No summons, however, arrived, but amessage came instead, that Rouen had been surrendered into the bands ofthe King. Richard shed indignant tears. "My father's Castle! My owncity in the hands of the foe! Bernard is a traitor then! None shallhinder me from so calling him. Why did we trust him?"

  "Never fear, Lord Duke," said Osmond. "When you come to the years ofKnighthood, your own sword shall right you, in spite of all the falseDanes, and falser Franks, in the land."

  "What! you too, son Osmond? I deemed you carried a cooler brain than tomiscall one who was true to Rollo's race before you or yon varlet wereborn!" said the old Baron.

  "He has yielded my dukedom! It is mis-calling to say he is aught but atraitor!" cried Richard. "Vile, treacherous, favour-seeking--"

  "Peace, peace, my Lord," said the Baron. "Bernard has more in that waryhead of his than your young wits, or my old ones, can unwind. What he isdoing I may not guess, but I gage my life his heart is right."

  Richard was silent, remembering he had been once unjust, but he grievedheartily when he thought of the French in Rollo's tower, and it wasfurther reported that the King was about to share Normandy among hisFrench vassals. A fresh outcry broke out in the little garrison ofSenlis, but Sir Eric still persisted in his trust in his friend Bernard,even when he heard that Centeville was marked out as the prey of the fatFrench Count who had served for a hostage at Rouen.

  "What say you now, my Lord?" said he, after a conference with a messengerat the gate. "The Black Raven has spread its wings. Fifty keels are inthe Seine, and Harald Blue-tooth's Long Serpent at the head of them."

  "The King of Denmark! Come to my aid!"

  "Ay, that he is! Come at Bernard's secret call, to right you, and putyou on your father's seat. Now call honest Harcourt a traitor, becausehe gave not up your fair dukedom to the flame and sword!"

  "No traitor to me," said Richard, pausing. "No, verily, but what morewould you say?"

  "I think, when I come to my dukedom, I will not be so politic," saidRichard. "I will be an open friend or an open foe."

  "The boy grows too sharp for us," said Sir Eric, smiling, "but it wasspoken like his father."

  "He grows more like his blessed father each day," said Fru Astrida.

  "But the Danes, father, the Danes!" said Osmond. "Blows will be passingnow. I may join the host and win my spurs?"

  "With all my heart," returned the Baron, "so my Lord here gives youleave: would that I could leave him and go with you. It would do my veryspirit good but to set foot in a Northern keel once more."

  "I would fain see what these men of the North are," said Osmond.

  "Oh! they are only Danes, not Norsemen, and there are no Vikings, such asonce were when Ragnar laid waste--"

  "Son, son, what talk is this for the child's ears?" broke in Fru Astrida,"are these words for a Christian Baron?"

  "Your pardon, mother," said the grey warrior, in all humility, "but myblood thrills to hear of a Northern fleet at hand, and to think of Osmonddrawing sword under a Sea-King."

  The next morning, Osmond's steed was led to the door, and suchmen-at-arms as could be spared from the garrison of Senlis were drawn upin readiness to accompany him. The boys stood on the steps, wishing theywere old enough to be warriors, and wondering what had become of him,until at length the sound of an opening door startled them, and there, inthe low archway of the smithy, the red furnace glowing behind him, stoodOsmond, clad in bright steel, the links of his hauberk reflecting thelight, and on his helmet a pair of golden wings, while the same deviceadorned his long pointed kite-shaped shield.

  "Your wings! our wings!" cried Richard, "the bearing of Centeville!"

  "May they fly after the foe, not before him," said Sir Eric. "Speed theewell, my son--let not our Danish cousins say we learn Frank gracesinstead of Northern blows."

  With such farewells, Osmond quitted Senlis, while the two boys hastenedto the battlements to watch him as long as he remained in view.

  The highest tower became their principal resort, and their eyes wereconstantly on the heath where he had disappeared; but days passed, andthey grew weary of the watch, and betook themselves to games in theCastle court.

  One day, Alberic, in the character of a Dragon, was lying on his back,panting hard so as to be supposed to cast out volumes of flame and smokeat Richard, the Knight, who with a stick for a lance, and a wooden sword,was waging fierce war; when suddenly the Dragon paused, sat up, andpointed towards the warder on the tower. His horn was at his lips, andin another moment, the blast rang out through the Castle.

  With a loud shout, both boys rushed headlong up the turret stairs, andcame to the top so breathless, that they could not even ask the warderwhat he saw. He pointed, and the keen-eyed Alberic exclaimed, "I see!Look, my Lord, a speck there on the heath!"

  "I do not see! where, oh where?"

  "He is behind the hillock now, but--oh, there again! How fast he comes!"

  "It is like the flight of a bird," said Richard, "fast, fast--"

  "If only it be not flight in earnest," said Alberic, a little anxiously,looking into the warder's face, for he was a borderer, and tales ofterror of the inroad of the Vicomte du Contentin were rife on the marchesof the Epte.

  "No, young Sir," said the warder, "no fear of that. I know how men ridewhen they flee from the battle."

  "No, indeed, there is no discomfiture in the pace of that steed," saidSir Eric, who had by this time joined them.

  "I see him clearer! I see the horse," cried Richard, dancing witheagerness, so that Sir Eric caught hold of him, exclaiming, "You will beover the battlements! hold still! better hear of a battle lost thanthat!"

  "He bears somewhat in his hand," said Alberic.

  "A banner or pennon," said the warder; "methinks he rides like the youngBaron."

  "He does! My brave boy! He has done good service," exclaimed Sir Eric,as the figure became more developed. "The Danes have seen how we trainour young men."

  "His wings bring good tidings," said Richard. "Let me go, Sir Eric, Imust tell Fru Astrida."

  The drawbridge was lowered, the portcullis raised, and as all thedwellers in the Castle stood gathered in the court, in rode the warriorwith the winged helm, bearing in his hand a drooping banner; lowering itas he entered, it unfolded, and displayed, trailing on the ground at thefeet of the
little Duke of Normandy, the golden lilies of France.

  A shout of amazement arose, and all gathered round him, asking hurriedquestions. "A great victory--the King a prisoner--Montreuil slain!"

  Richard would not be denied holding his hand, and leading him to thehall, and there, sitting around him, they heard his tidings. Hisfather's first question was, what he thought of their kinsmen, the Danes?

  "Rude comrades, father, I must own," said Osmond, smiling, and shakinghis head. "I could not pledge them in a skull-goblet--set in gold thoughit were."

  "None the worse warriors," said Sir Eric. "Ay, ay, and you were dainty,and brooked not the hearty old fashion of tearing the whole sheep topieces. You must needs cut your portion with the fine French knife atyour girdle."

  Osmond could not see that a man was braver for being a savage, but heheld his peace; and Richard impatiently begged to hear how the battle hadgone, and where it had been fought.

  "On the bank of the Dive," said Osmond. "Ah, father, you might well callold Harcourt wary--his name might better have been Fox-heart thanBear-heart! He had sent to the Franks a message of distress, that theDanes were on him in full force, and to pray them to come to his aid."

  "I trust there was no treachery. No foul dealing shall be wrought in myname," exclaimed Richard, with such dignity of tone and manner, as madeall feel he was indeed their Duke, and forget his tender years.

  "No, or should I tell the tale with joy like this?" said Osmond."Bernard's view was to bring the Kings together, and let Louis see youhad friends to maintain your right. He sought but to avoid bloodshed."

  "And how chanced it?"

  "The Danes were encamped on the Dive, and so soon as the French came insight, Blue-tooth sent a messenger to Louis, to summon him to quitNeustria, and leave it to you, its lawful owner. Thereupon, Louis,hoping to win him over with wily words, invited him to hold a personalconference."

  "Where were you, Osmond?"

  "Where I had scarce patience to be. Bernard had gathered all of ushonest Normans together, and arranged us beneath that standard of theKing, as if to repel his Danish inroad. Oh, he was, in all seeming,hand-and-glove with Louis, guiding him by his counsel, and, verily,seeming his friend and best adviser! But in one thing he could notprevail. That ungrateful recreant, Herluin of Montreuil, came with theKing, hoping, it seems, to get his share of our spoils; and when Bernardadvised the King to send him home, since no true Norman could bear thesight of him, the hot-headed Franks vowed no Norman should hinder themfrom bringing whom they chose. So a tent was set up by the riverside,wherein the two Kings, with Bernard, Alan of Brittany, and Count Hugh,held their meeting. We all stood without, and the two hosts began tomingle together, we Normans making acquaintance with the Danes. Therewas a red-haired, wild-looking fellow, who told me he had been withAnlaff in England, and spoke much of the doings of Hako in Norway; when,suddenly, he pointed to a Knight who was near, speaking to a Cotentinois,and asked me his name. My blood boiled as I answered, for it wasMontreuil himself! 'The cause of your Duke's death!' said the Dane.'Ha, ye Normans are fallen sons of Odin, to see him yet live!'"

  "You said, I trust, my son, that we follow not the laws of Odin?" saidFru Astrida.

  "I had no space for a word, grandmother; the Danes took the vengeance onthemselves. In one moment they rushed on Herluin with their axes, andthe unhappy man was dead. All was tumult; every one struck withoutknowing at whom, or for what. Some shouted, '_Thor Hulfe_!' some '_Dieuaide_!' others '_Montjoie St. Denis_!' Northern blood against French,that was all our guide. I found myself at the foot of this standard, andhad a hard combat for it; but I bore it away at last."

  "And the Kings?"

  "They hurried out of the tent, it seems, to rejoin their men. Louismounted, but you know of old, my Lord, he is but an indifferent horseman,and the beast carried him into the midst of the Danes, where King Haraldcaught his bridle, and delivered him to four Knights to keep. Whether hedealt secretly with them, or whether they, as they declared, lost sightof him whilst plundering his tent, I cannot say; but when Harald demandedhim of them, he was gone."

  "Gone! is this what you call having the King prisoner?"

  "You shall hear. He rode four leagues, and met one of the baser sort ofRouennais, whom he bribed to hide him in the Isle of Willows. However,Bernard made close inquiries, found the fellow had been seen in speechwith a French horseman, pounced on his wife and children, and threatenedthey should die if he did not disclose the secret. So the King wasforced to come out of his hiding-place, and is now fast guarded inRollo's tower--a Dane, with a battle-axe on his shoulder, keeping guardat every turn of the stairs."

  "Ha! ha!" cried Richard. "I wonder how he likes it. I wonder if heremembers holding me up to the window, and vowing that he meant me onlygood!"

  "When you believed him, my Lord," said Osmond, slyly.

  "I was a little boy then," said Richard, proudly. "Why, the very wallsmust remind him of his oath, and how Count Bernard said, as he dealt withme, so might Heaven deal with him."

  "Remember it, my child--beware of broken vows," said Father Lucas; "butremember it not in triumph over a fallen foe. It were better that allcame at once to the chapel, to bestow their thanksgivings where alonethey are due."