by M. M. Blake
CHAPTER VIII.
KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY.
Sir Aimand de Sourdeval, after he had been forbidden by Eadgyth ofNorwich to wear her colours openly in his helm at the tourney, had castabout in his mind for some means of so bearing them that she should beaware that he did so, and she alone.
Accordingly, he had a new device blazoned on his shield,--a starshining from a band of blue sky between two barriers of sable cloud,with the motto, '_L'esperance vit dans le bleu_,' blue being the colourmost affected by Eadgyth, and to be worn by her, he knew, at thebride-ale.
This shield he bore with brilliant fortune in the joust, and plied hislance so well that the highest prize was awarded to him, a lady'sbracelet gleaming with many gems, which Emma Fitzosbern handed to himwith a bright smile; while Eadgyth, who stood behind her, thrilled withpleasure and pride that the knight who had placed his valour at herdisposal had so worthily acquitted himself, though it was but a painfulpleasure, since she deemed that an impassable gulf divided them, andshe grieved to see how, without wearing any token openly, Sir Aimandstill contrived to carry her colours. The ingenuity of the homagetouched Eadgyth to the quick, for she was no coquette, and had no wishthat a gallant youth should waste his breath in vain sighs for herfavour.
So, when Emma with a gracious compliment crowned Sir Aimand withlaurel, and handed him the prize he had won away from the manydexterous lances and strong arms which had contended for it, Eadgyth'seyes were full of ruth, and Sir Aimand, seeing them, grew suddenly gladat heart.
'Nay, noble Emma,' he said, declining to take the bracelet from herhand. 'Though my lady's eyes are as bright as the jewels that stud thisgolden circlet, they look not upon me with favour, neither may I wearher token in mine helm, nor place my trophies at her feet. Bestow theprize, therefore, upon one of thy fair damsels whose small wrist,peradventure, it may be of size to suit.'
So saying, he descended into the lists again, mounted his steed, androde away amid the cheers of the spectators.
Emma turned to the maiden beside her, and bade her hold out her wrist.
'I believe shrewdly the bracelet will fit thee,' she said; and Eadgyth,blushing, was obliged to obey, and saw the jewelled circlet blazinground her arm with strangely mingled feelings of triumph and sorrow.
On the day of the bride-ale, it fell to the lot of Sir Aimand, as theyoungest knight in Ralph de Guader's following, to keep ward over thesentries of the camp, and necessarily, therefore, to be absent from thebanquet. So, while his chief was pledging his guests with pledges ofdire import, and men were feasting and revelling and vowing mad vows tohelp each other's treason, and follow the three great earls in theirwild enterprise, the unconscious Knight of Sourdeval was riding throughthe starlit night from outpost to outpost, passing the watchwordhimself had chosen for the night.
'_Corage e bonne conscience_,' he said, as he proved each post.
'_Fait tout homme fort e fier_,' answered each sentry.
For Sir Aimand, it must be admitted, was of a romantic cast of mind,and threw himself heart and soul into the fantastic images of chivalrywhich were then being evolved by the brightest spirits of the age, andnever lost an opportunity of enforcing a good maxim, if it were only inso small a matter as a watchword.
His young head was as full of schemes for the reformation andimprovement of the world as that of any modern Socialist; and, havinglately met a palmer who had returned from a visit to the HolySepulchre, he had fallen a-dreaming on his chances of ever being ableto travel thither himself, a project which had haunted him for a longtime with more or less persistence, and which had started intoprominence again in his mind since Eadgyth had given so discouraging ananswer to his suit.
Being profoundly religious, he had been inclined to believe that heranswer was guided by Heaven to lead him back to the less worldly schemewhich had so filled his heart before he met her, and which he must havelaid aside for an indefinite period, if not for ever, if she hadconsented to wed him; and he found comfort for his wounded love in thethought that he was, perhaps, to attain a higher spiritual life throughthe denial of earthly joy.
So, as he rode under the sparkling sky, his breast was full of a tenderresignation, and the thought that he was guarding the lady of his lovecaused him a quiet satisfaction. He liked to feel that he was servingher, and vowed to serve her no less zealously that she had forbiddenhim ever to expect guerdon, and made all manner of silent vows to provehimself worthy of the love he had asked, and to live knight-like andpiously, and do his _devoir_ to God and man.
So noble a frame of mind might well bring forth fruit of song, and ashe rode he hummed snatches of a _lai_ which had taken his fancy a fewweeks before, when he heard it from the lips of the author, a gallantminstrel, who, like Taillefer the famous, was also a knight of goodlyprowess, and was devoted to the nobler branches of the _joyeusescience_.
Sir Aimand sang but snatches to the jingle of scabbard and harness, butthis was the poem at length:--
THE WHYTE LADYE.
I.
Sir Bors went riding past a shrine, And there a mayd her griefe did tyne. _O sweet Marye!_ A lilye maid with cheekes all pale, And garments whyte, and snowy veil, Shee bitterly did weepe and wail. _O dear Marye!_
II.
Sir Bors beheld, and straight hys brest For pitye 'gainst his hauberke prest. _O sweet Marye!_ 'Ladye,' quod hee, 'I love thee soe, That I toe Deth wold gladlye goe, If I might ease thy cruel woe!' _O dear Marye!_
III.
Shee answered, 'In a robber's hold Lies chained a comlye knight and bold.' _O sweet Marye!_ 'Mine herte is fulle of dysmal dred Lest hee be foully done to dedde, For I have promised him to wedde!' _O dear Marye!_
IV.
Then grew Sir Bors as white as shee, And never answer answered hee. _O sweet Marye!_ A cruel stound didde pierce his brest, Yet soothly laid hee lance in rest, And parted instant on his quest. _O dear Marye!_
V.
And whilom found the robber's hold, And freed the comlye knight and bold. _O sweet Marye!_ And sette him on his own good steed (Though inwardly his wounds did bleed), And stript his hauberke for his need, That he might be in knight-like weed. _O dear Marye!_
VI.
And ran before him in the mire, That hee might fitlye have a squire. _O sweet Marye!_ Then when they reacht the lilye maid, 'Behold thy comlye knight!' he said, And saw her chaunge from white to redde, Then, smiling, at her feet fell dedde. _O dear Marye!_
As Sir Aimand hummed his song, a secret joy came to his heart, for hefelt that although his plight was sad, being distasteful to his ladyfor his country's sake, at least no 'comlye knight and bold' of anyother nation, Saxon or Breton, had forestalled him in her regard; ofthat he felt doubly assured, for, in the first place, if it had beenso, he felt convinced that Eadgyth would have frankly avowed it, whenhe begged her permission to show himself at the tourney as her knight;and secondly, the expression he had surprised on her face when he hadrefused to take the prize bracelet.
Suddenly these dreams were interrupted.
The soldier banished the lover.
Sir Aimand checked his horse, and stiffened into rigidity, like apointer scenting game.
Trot! trot! trot! The beat of a horse's tread leaving the camp at arapid pace sounded through the darkness.
Sir Aimand struck spurs into his own gallant destrier, and dashedforward in the direction he judged the horseman was taking,endeavouring to intercept him by cutting off an angle.
The trot changed into a gallop, and though the Norman knight evencaught sight of a dark figure hurrying through the
gloom, he soon foundthat his steed was no match for the one he was pursuing; but Judith'smessenger had a narrow escape.
Returning to the camp, De Sourdeval questioned the sentries; but,finding that the horseman had issued from the quarter occupied by theNorthumbrians in the retinue of Earl Waltheof, over which he had nojurisdiction, he was forced unwillingly to let the matter rest.
Meanwhile the camp had grown quiet. The sounds of revelry and themighty chorus which from time to time had burst from the palace--SirAimand little guessed their dire import--had ceased, and the silencewas only broken by the occasional neigh of a horse, or whinny from someof the mules belonging to the ecclesiastical guests, or the clash of asentinel's spear against his shield and jingle of his harness as hepaced his post, or perhaps some wandering owl hooting at the disturbersof his accustomed hunting-grounds.
The east grew red with dawn, and Sir Aimand was relieved from his watchby the knight next on duty, and went towards his own pavilion to rest.As he passed the quarters of the Breton knights in the East Anglianearl's following, he was hailed by a group who were still lingering atthe entrance of one of the pavilions, and talking together rathernoisily of the events of the evening. Some few of the Bretons werevassals to Ralph de Guader, holding lands under him on his estates ofGuader and Montfort, but the greater number were adventurers whom theearl had gathered round him, when he had determined to defy the mandateof William against his marriage. These men were under the leadership ofone Alain de Gourin, a bold and reckless soldier of fortune, whoseguiding principle was the lining of his own purse and the obtaining afull share of the fat of whatsoever land he might be living in. Betweenthis swashbuckler and De Sourdeval but little love was lost, the Normandeeming the Breton a ruffian, and the Breton despising the Norman as aprig, so a smothered enmity was always between them.
Therefore it was with no great alacrity that Sir Aimand answered DeGourin's hail, especially as he guessed very shrewdly that the Bretonshad not returned very steady-headed from the banquet.
'Gramercy, Sir Aimand! Thou hast been out of the world these sixhours,' cried De Gourin, who had inherited the physical traits of hisWelsh forefathers, having blue, bulging eyes, and light eyelashes, andtruly Celtic flaming red hair, and was of a tall, wiry figure, andcapable of immense endurance, his age being about fifty. 'Come hither,lad! We have such news for thee as will make thy heart beat faster, ifthou hast the love of a true knight for the clash of steel and the hopeof glory! Beshrew me! the man who knows how to wield his weapon willhave a chance to carve his way to fortune e'er many months are past andgone!'
Here a knight whispered to him rather anxiously.
'Tush! Sir Aimand had been at the banquet save for the need of keepingward on the camp,' answered Sir Alain. 'I would have the pleasure ofseeing his delight!' he added, with a coarse laugh, and half forced theNorman to enter the tent with him, when, pouring out a goblet ofGascon, he challenged Sir Aimand to pledge the enterprise.
'Nay! First I must know what it is,' said the Norman.
'To unseat that upstart and usurper, William the Bastard, from hisill-gotten seat on the throne of England, and to put a better man inhis place,' answered Sir Alain in a hectoring tone; 'and to win forourselves such good shares of the lands as is due to our valorouslances.'
Sir Aimand started back, looking fixedly at the Breton, and his handinstinctively sought his sword-hilt; but in a moment he regained hiscomposure.
'Methinks the earl's somewhat ponderous Saxon hospitality has turnedthy hot brains a bit, Sir Alain,' he said contemptuously. 'Neither thounor I are likely to drink that pledge!'
Sir Alain smiled at him with an evil smile, but he kept his temper.'St. Nicholas! But every man here has drunk it this evening, and everyman who sat at Ralph de Guader's marriage board; and, sooth to say, ifthou hadst been present to hear the list of that same William's crimesthat were brought up against him, methinks so virtuous a knight asthyself had drunk it too, with a rider to vow that such vermin werebest exterminated from the earth.'
'It is true, De Sourdeval! All drank the pledge,--Normans, Bretons, andSaxons,' chorused the knights around. 'We are under oath to pullWilliam from the throne and set up Waltheof in his stead.'
'It cannot be!' cried Sir Aimand, overwhelmed. 'It is treachery! Theearl cannot be guilty of such baseness!'
'And who art thou to stigmatise as baseness what so many men as good asthee hold fit and good?' chorused the Bretons.
'By the rood! ye are scarcely fair to the lad,' said one somewhat moresober than his companions. 'The communication is sudden, to say theleast. Neither did he hear the eloquent catalogue of William's faultswhich wrought our blood to the boiling point.'
'Nor would I have listened to a word of it!' cried Sir Aimand fiercely.'I would have thrown down my gauntlet had it been the earl himself whotraduced his liege lord and king! And what were ye for leal knights,fair sirs, that ye gave ear to such treason?'
'Look ye, my galliard,' said Alain de Gourin contemptuously, 'I shouldadvise you to drop that hero of romaunt strain, for it is a little outof fashion here and now. By my halidom, thou wilt scarce find afoot-page in the whole camp that will support thee! The fell-monger'sgrandson has carried his tyrannies a little too far even for thepatient stomachs of his servile Normans at last; and as for us Bretons,we have long bided our time to pay him out for those dishes of Italiansoup to which he treated Counts Alain and Conan.'
'I will never drop the strain whilst I have breath in my body!' saidSir Aimand stoutly. 'Perhaps, when the morning comes, it will be youwho will pipe to a different tune, fair sirs. Let me pass, gentlemen; Iwould go to my pavilion.'
'Not so fast!' answered Sir Alain, interposing his bulky person betwixtDe Sourdeval and the door of the tent. 'Not until thou hast drunk thepledge! It would be scarce politic to let loose so puissant a knightwhile he declares himself hostile to our enterprise.'
Sir Alain and the most part of the Bretons were in their banquetingrobes, armed only with swords and daggers, but a half-dozen, at least,had prepared for duty, and were in full harness, and these closed roundtheir leader, and barred Sir Aimand's retreat.
'Sirs,' said De Sourdeval, 'ye are six to one, without counting unarmedmen. If you stand not at treason to your king-lord, ye will scarce beparticular in giving fair play to one who is true to him. But I tellyou that ye shall not force _me_ into complicity with your traitorousplans if ye hack every limb from my body. And I will sell my lifedearly, since every blow I strike will be for my liege as well as formyself.'
'Thou young fool!' returned De Gourin, 'we have no wish to hurt a hairof thy head. Thou needest not drink the pledge if it irks thee, but forour own sakes we must shut thy mouth in one way or other. Resistance tosuch odds is madness. Yield thyself a prisoner, and the worst that willbefall thee is a limited sphere of action till such time as we canhonourably exchange thee against any of our members who may get intoWilliam's clutches.'
'Honourably!' repeated Sir Aimand furiously. 'When the combat is begunby throwing honour and devoir and all knightly fairness to the winds!'
'By the devil's own horns! thou carriest the matter too far for mypatience!' cried De Gourin. 'Fight for it, then, if thou wilt!' Drawinghis sword, he made a tremendous blow at Sir Aimand, who parried withoutreturning it.
'I fight not with unarmed men!' said Sir Aimand, and obtained a cheerfrom the onlookers, who dropped the points of their own swords, as ifrather ashamed of the business.
'Nay, if thou likest it better, and none of these men will suit thee, Iwill go and put on my harness,' said De Gourin.
'It is not I who hesitate!' flung back Sir Aimand, for his blood wasup, and he threw prudence to the winds.
'Well crowed, Sir Victor of the Tourney!' cried Sir Alain mockingly.'Thou hast already unhorsed singly more than one of us, why shouldstthou be awed by our combination? Sir Mordred here cut a shrewdlylaughable figure when thy thrust caught his jowl two days agone!Methinks his teeth must chatter yet! No wonder he pauses beforeattacking s
o doughty a champion!'
Sir Mordred, stung by the taunt, advanced on De Sourdeval and attackedhim fiercely; but the Norman held his own, surpassing him both instrength and skill; and in a few moments Sir Mordred fell to theground, cured for ever of the toothache or any other ache that flesh isheir to.
His comrades, with a savage howl, closed on Sir Aimand, and,overwhelmed by numbers, he was borne down, and lay senseless andbleeding beside his slain foe.
Meanwhile Judith's messenger was speeding on his way to the Primate,while the unfortunate knight who had striven so hard to stop him wasthus foully entreated, lest he should himself be the bearer of somesuch message.