The Siege of Norwich Castle: A story of the last struggle against the Conqueror

by M. M. Blake

  CHAPTER XXII.

  A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT.

  The besiegers on their part had not been idle. They had establishedquite a _menagery_ of mechanical contrivances, rejoicing in thezoological names of tortoises, sows, and cats, to protect theirapproaches to the white walls of Blauncheflour, and under cover ofthese they had cut a channel to the castle ditch and drained the waterfrom it, so that it was as dry as at present, though, instead ofgrowing fair greenery of bushes and flowers, it showed a bottom ofparched, foetid mud under the hot summer sun.

  They had thrown up large mounds of earth at intervals around theballium, and upon these had built up towers of wood overtopping thewalls. These were furnished with drawbridges which could be let down atpleasure upon the merlons of the battlements, so to give ingress totheir men-at-arms; their upper storeys serving to shelter archers andslingers, while from the lower, battering-rams were sturdily plied, andthe warrewolves flung their stones and balls of lead.

  These towers had cost them many good lives, for not one had beenestablished without a fierce struggle. Sally after sally had been madefrom the castle, but, in the end, numbers prevailed, and at last theirimpertinent wooden crests were reared above the Caen stone ofBlauncheflour.

  Those within were, however, more troubled by the mines which theirassailants had run from the bottom of the moat beneath the foundationsof the castle; for although these had been met by countermines, andmany a furious combat had taken place in these uncanny lists, each minemeant a point to be guarded with jealous care, and was a source ofweakness and anxiety; demanding exhausting sentry duty from the alreadyover-burdened garrison.

  The countess found her office of Castellan no sinecure. The motleygarrison were anything but homogeneous. All manner of petty jealousies,personal and national, raged among them. The Normans were jealous ofthe Bretons, and the Bretons blustered about independence, boastingthat they were 'no man's men;' while the Saxons hated them both, andregarded their refinements as dandyisms and their courtesies as cant;and the Normans and the Bretons both looked down upon the Saxons assavages, and gibed at their priest-bestowed knighthood; so that, on thewhole, they were as much inclined to fight against each other asagainst the king's forces outside the walls, and sometimes actuallycame to blows.

  However, the countess set her woman's wit to weigh these quarrelsomegentlemen against each other, and managed to do it, owing to thethree-sidedness of the situation.

  After all, their want of unity had its advantages, as they never 'wentsolid' in any direction, except under the self-evident necessity ofdefending their lives and the castle.

  Still, at times, Emma grew very weary, and almost failed under theburden she had taken upon her slender shoulders, feeling terriblyfeeble and lonely and out of her depth.

  Sir Hoel de St. Brice was her chiefest comfort and principalcounsellor. The old knight had come to regard her with absoluteveneration and the deepest affection, and in him she felt that she hada true and sincere friend.

  His zeal for the earl's cause nearly equalled her own. To say that hewould have given his life for it would express little, for all in thegarrison were formally pledged to do that; but he had no other objectin life.

  Emma had sought the earliest opportunity to tell him the circumstancesunder which she had discovered the imprisonment of Sir Aimand deSourdeval, and to repeat his account of the foul treatment he had metwith from De Gourin.

  'Unknightly!' he had said,--'from first to last unknightly. But whatwould you have? Can a man who sells his lance to the first bidder,without inquiry into the justice of his cause, be a true knight?'Altogether he gave evidence of shrewd indignation, but no keensurprise.

  'I love not the mercenary,' he answered, 'and wish that he had not sohigh a command in the garrison. I know well that he had no great likingfor the young Norman _prudhomme_, whose boyish enthusiasms werestronger than his prudence, and led him to throw taunts at Sir Alain'sthick head, all the more galling that they were barbed with truth.'

  But he agreed that, under the circumstances, it was best to let mattersstand; De Gourin was evidently of the same opinion, and, save for a fewveiled gibes at the magnanimity of the countess, made no reference tothe freeing of the young knight.

  Sir Aimand, for his part, had a dismal time of it, and almost wishedhimself back in his dungeon, securely chained by the leg.

  As soon as his health began to mend, which was speedily enough, underthe combined influences of good food, good air, and the sight of hislady's face, Eadgyth withdrew that last and sweetest influence.

  For she was determined by no word or look of hers to tempt him to beuntrue to his high standard of honour, and she felt on her own partmore Saxon than ever, and judged the gulf between them impassable, saveby the wreckage of the ideals of both; and therefore she deemed that tobestow her company upon him would be but cruel kindness.

  So the poor knight mooned about in solitary meditation, and hisreturning strength made inaction a veritable purgatory to him. To hearblows going, and have no hand in giving or taking them, was truly aboutthe cruellest torture that could have been invented for one of hisorder and temper in those days when Christians still thirsted for theValhalla of the old Norsemen, wherein the immortal heroes were healedof their wounds at night that they might slay each other over again inthe morning.

  Again and again he was on the point of throwing his scruples to thewind, and buckling on sword and helm in defence of the generous damewho had given him his freedom so unconditionally. Again and again herestrained himself, and did penance by fasting and prayer, wishing thewhile that she had left him in durance, so he had escaped such doubtingand searching of heart.

  Nor did he find much peace in Hall. Norman, Breton, and Saxon were allagainst him. Gibes and jeers were his portion. They called him the'ladies' tame tiercel,' the 'gamecock without spurs,' the 'dancingbear,' and a hundred other names suggestive of carpet-knight-errantry.Then his fists would ball and his clear-cut, high-bred face grow whitewith anger, though he never made reply, as he felt it an evident pointof honour that, being a prisoner on parole, he might neither risk hisown person, which carried value for ransom, nor seek to injure any ofthe garrison.

  But on the eve of the assault, when the countess was holding councilwith Sir Hoel de St. Brice, attended only by Eadgyth, the young Normanprayed audience of her, and on its being granted strode into thechamber with curiously flashing eyes.

  'I beseech thee, noble Emma, to furnish me with an helm and an hauberk,and the sharpest sword thou canst spare out of thine armoury, and Iwill put them to a good use in thy service,' he said, with speech thatwas rather too hasty to be clear.

  'Hast found thy senses at last, brave sir?' demanded Sir Hoel, smilingindulgently, for he had always liked the young knight.

  But Eadgyth noticed his flushed cheek and excited mien with a chilldread at her heart. Was he about to be false to the noble ideals forwhich he had endured so much, or--saints in Heaven forfend!--did hisexaggerated love to his suzerain lead him to contemplate a baserfalseness still, and so confuse his mind that he should fancy it wouldbe virtue to betray the castle? Her cousin Leofric had said more thanonce, that only a woman playing Castellan would be so imprudent as toallow one holding so invidious a position as did De Sourdeval, to befree of the castle and aware of all its secrets; and though at the timeshe had cried shame on his mean suspicions, the words had rested in hermind with the burr-like persistency characteristic of such suggestionsof evil.

  The countess, however, looked at him with her frank glad eyes, andrejoiced, for she had always hoped that the time would come when hewould repay her generosity with complete allegiance, and she was aboutto reply unconditionally, 'Ay, that will I.'

  But before she could speak, Sir Aimand continued, 'I ask thee more. Iwant not only arms for myself, but twenty men to back me.'

  Sir Hoel looked grave, and lifted his bushy white eyebrows high inastonishment.

  'Pick men of whose fidelity you are assured,' Sir Aimand cried. 'LetLeofric
Ealdredsson go with me. Thou knowest he has no liking for me,and is in no way in collusion with me, sith there is race hatredbetween us and rivalry in love.'

  'Rivalry in love!' exclaimed Emma, turning quickly to Eadgyth, and thecheeks of the Saxon maiden burned scarlet under her gaze, but not moreredly than those of the knight, who had exposed his jealousy unawares.

  'I should not have said rivalry,' he amended hastily, 'sith I have noclaim.'

  Eadgyth was in a difficult position. If she made the protest her hearturged, that Leofric was her cousin and nothing more, and never could bemore, she would give Sir Aimand an encouragement which was cruel. Ifshe did not make it, she let that be believed which she imagined had nofoundation in fact.

  Emma saved her from need of reply.

  'Upon the honour of Leofric Ealdredsson I can rely,' she said, 'whetherhe have cause to like or mislike thy person, fair knight. What morehast thou to ask?'

  'That he, with twenty of his stout Anglo-Danes, may be put under myguidance, with instructions to hew me in sunder if I in any way showtoken of treachery. I can serve thee best if none know of this matter,nor the end in view, save Leofric alone. But this I will say inexplanation, there is a traitor in thy camp, and I would fain foil him.I cannot fight under thy banner, noble countess, but it accords with myvow of chivalry to save thee from foul betrayal.'

  'Let Leofric Ealdredsson be summoned, Sir Hoel,' said the countess.

  And in the end De Sourdeval obtained his boon.

  Knowing what had been granted to the Norman, and that Leofric and hisstout carles would not have accepted service under him unless with someprospect of stiff work to follow, Sir Hoel was somewhat surprised tosee the Anglo-Danes linger later than usual over the wassail bowl inHall that even, seeing too that on the morrow it was certain thatshrewd blows would be going, and all heads wanted clear.

  Sir Alain de Gourin thought fit to rebuke them. 'For as thick skulls asyour battle-axes there may boast, Childe Leofric,' he said, 'they hadbest have wakeful wits under them by dawn.' And he set a worthy exampleby leaving the revel.

  His most important followers slipped after, first one and then another,but still the Vikings drank on, and Sir Hoel began to have queer doubtsof the wisdom of granting the whimsical De Sourdeval control over sucha crew, and determined to watch them out.

  "The big rat has gone into his hole!"]

  Presently in came Sir Aimand, wrapped in a long cloak, with a hood overhis head, and whispered to Leofric,--

  'The big rat has gone into his hole.'

  And Leofric wagged his yellow beard approvingly, and rose up, tall andstrong, with a rattle of mail and bracelets, and took his greattwo-handed axe and strode with De Sourdeval out of the hall; and SirHoel saw that under De Sourdeval's cloak was a mail hauberk and steelheadpiece.

  Then one after another the Anglo-Danes picked themselves out of therushes, whither they had subsided to save the trouble of falling, andwent out also, with strange steadiness for tipsy men.

  And De Sourdeval led Leofric to a mine that had been run to meet onedug by the enemy on the north-west side of the castle, near thechiefest of the wall towers, and two dozen good men and true were attheir back.

  They went down into the darkness, dimly lighted with rude lanterns, andthey found the watch were one and all Breton mercenaries. These oneafter another they stealthily seized, gagged before they could makeoutcry, bound, and carried up into the outer air, setting their own menin their stead. Then they crouched down and waited at the extremity ofthe mine, where it met the Norman parallels.

  And after a while they heard sounds approaching. The clink and chink ofweapons and mail and the muffled beat of creeping footsteps.

  'Remember--Sir Alain to me,' hissed De Sourdeval in a hoarsewhisper,--'Sir Alain and his traitors. I strike no blow against theking's true men.'

  'By Odin! all's fish that comes to my net. Breton or Norman, what havethey to do in Harold's Norwich?' returned Leofric savagely. 'But I'llnot poach on thy manors. Sir Alain to thee.'

  Two minutes later, the Breton mercenary, leading the foe with whom hehad traitorously compounded to save his own skin, was startled to meetthe fierce white face of Sir Aimand instead of the friendly countenanceof one of his own ruffians.

  'Ha! caught in thine own burrow, despicable rat!' shouted the Norman,and the next moment they were hewing at each other with the fury of along hatred.

  De Gourin had the disadvantage of surprise, and he lost his head andstruck wildly. De Sourdeval got within his guard, and the next momentthe Breton rolled heavily to earth.

  Over his dead body waged a fierce battle, but it was not maintained forlong. The besiegers, expecting to be led straight into the heart of thecastle, were not prepared for the determined resistance they met withthus at the outset, and credited the Bretons with decoying them into atrap. The latter were therefore the chief combatants, for their casewas desperate. They were between two foes, and scarce one of themescaped alive; nor did Sir Aimand find any great difficulty in keepinghis vow to deal with them alone.

  So Sir Aimand slew his enemy in the bowels of the earth; the manthrough whose treachery he had been forced to live for so many longdays as deeply buried from the free air and cheerful light of day. Yetthe personal quarrel was merged in a greater cause, and in revenginghis own wrong he was saving the brave Countess Emma and the lady of hislove, with all the womanhood in the castle, from the horrors of asudden sack.

  When the garrison heard of this feat which 'the ladies' tame tiercel'and 'the Danish wolf' had carried through between them, the enthusiasmknew no bounds, and the curses and maledictions that were poured on thesenseless head of the treacherous Breton knew no bounds either, tillSir Aimand said,--

  'The greater his sins, the greater need we pray for him,' and orderedmasses for the dead man's soul at his own expense, so putting bittertongues to shame.

  The countess came down into the great hall and met the heroes of thehour with shining eyes and heartfelt thanks; but, to say truth, theywere both more anxious for kind glances and sweet praise from her Saxonbower-maiden, and their eyes went round the hall in search of her. Butshe was not there; she had slipped away to ask the chaplain to set herpenances for having entertained suspicions of an innocent person.

  Perhaps none felt deeper indignation against the foiled traitor thanthose of the Breton mercenaries whom he had not included in his band ofdeserters. If his plot had been successful, they would probably havesuffered most of all in the garrison, for mercenaries are rollingstones who make enemies wherever they go, and whose services being paidfor in cash and plunder, win no gratitude even from those they defend.They knew well that if the besiegers got the upper hand, it would gohard with them.

  Therefore they stood aghast when they heard of the treachery of theirleader and of those of their comrades who had been with him, feelingthat treachery to be in a manner twofold towards themselves. Theygathered round De Sourdeval asking eager questions.

  'How had he discovered the plot? Had he known it long? What proofs hadhe to support his assertion?'

  To which he made reply that he had not known it long, only an hour ortwo before his counterplot was framed and executed, and it had come tohis knowledge in this wise. A certain soldier in De Gourin's band hadbeen Sir Aimand's warder during his imprisonment in the dungeons of thecastle, and it seemed that the man had conceived a great affection forhim. Being one of the sentries whose duty it was to guard the mine, hehad received instructions from De Gourin to admit the king's troops,and was perforce made privy to the nefarious designs of the leader.

  Believing De Sourdeval to be hostile to the garrison, and wishing to dohim a good turn, he had told him of the scheme on hand, and hadundertaken to procure a disguise for him, so that he might pass outamid De Gourin's band. The man would tell them the story himself; henow lay bound in the courtyard of the castle with the rest of theBreton sentries.

  The next day Sir Aimand returned to the countess the arms with whichshe had provided him from th
e castle armoury, holding fast to hisresolution not to bear them against the king's forces.