The Red Tavern

by C. R. Macauley

  CHAPTER XIV

  OF A SERIES OF REMARKABLE DUELS, AND DE CLAVERLOK'S PERIL

  Their meeting place was within the larger of the bailey-courts, whenday was just on the dawn. Towering round about them were the roughwalls of the huge castle. Sir Richard noted that every embrasure hadsuddenly sprouted a multiple of bright eyes, all gazing down at thecombatants making ready to begin their battle at the bottom of the dampwell.

  The meeting turned out to be but the merest trifle for the youngknight. Duke Francis was a past master of the arts of war-craft and hadtaught him thoroughly well. Once, Sir Richard was proud to remember,when the old Duke happened to have been in an uncommonly amiable mood,he had assured him that he was the most apt of all his pupils. Theyoung knight fought only when there was a just cause at issue, andthen with his whole heart set upon winning the battle. Upon thisoccasion he had very little trouble in disabling his adversary's swordarm. But not, however, before playing with him a considerable time indeference to the astonishingly early risers, who had dared the chillblasts to peer through the open windows.

  "Brava, Sir Richard!" the plaudits swept from opening to opening aroundthe gray walls when the business was over, upon which the young knightmade a slight bow of acknowledgment and went hastily back to his warmbed, carrying with him there, besides somewhat of an aching head fromexcesses of the night before, the regret that he had been unable togive his auditors a prettier play in return for all their pains.

  That morning's encounter, however, proved to be but a drowsy preludeto a veritable whirlwind of fighting duels. Without so much as a "Bythy leave, sir," they would jostle Sir Richard roughly about, flinggauntlets at his feet, and hurl insults into his very teeth. Indeed,dueling grew to be an accepted part of his daily routine, and a daywithout its fight would have left him with the feeling that somethingimportant had remained undone. But Fortune continued to smile brightlyupon him; and, saving for a few slight scratches, he carried no mark tobear him witness of the amazingly great number of personal combats inwhich he became engaged.

  By nature Sir Richard was of a peace-loving disposition. Only uponone occasion had he deliberately set out to pick a quarrel, and thatwas with the Renegade Duke, for the purpose of aiding his escape fromcaptivity. He was accordingly much puzzled as to the cause of thissudden plethora of insults and challenges. That the men were allenvious of the open favors that Lady Anna continued to bestow uponhim, was the only possible reason to which he could ascribe them. Heappreciated that she must have an infinite number of admirers to bethus jealously guarded. Another circumstance that appealed to himas most singular, was the fact that once he had finished having itout with his enemies they became immediately his fast friends. SirRichard's encounters were attended by a strangely favorable issue ofevents, for only in one instance had he been forced to inflict uponhis adversary anything like a dangerous wound; and Sandufferin, theunfortunate exception and mightiest wielder of a blade in Scotland,made an ultimate recovery from his injuries. It grew to be a currentsubject of amused talk that when the latest comer had declared hisintention of facing the young knight's deft sword, those whom he hadmet and vanquished would gather about him and convey their knowledge tohim of the newcomer's particular methods of fighting.

  "Look at them, Anna," Lord Douglas remarked upon an occasion when anumber of men, many with bandaged hands and arms, were gathered closeabout Sir Richard. "They are giving points to their master, I take it.Never, within my knowledge, has there crossed the borders of Scotland agreater swordsman than this youthful knight. Marry, and how he seemethto enjoy it, Anna, preserving the happiest of good humor through itall! But soon will I call a halt to the saturnalia of fighting andacquaint him with the contents of Henry's warrant. He'll make us aright brave chief of horse, Anna--that will he. He grows impatient tofare away southward. Every day now does he inquire of me whether hissovereign's business here is done. An he but guessed that he is heldcaptive, I miss my shot an the gates and bars of Yewe would long holdhim."

  "Nay--that they would not," Lady Anna agreed. "'Tis the cutting ofsaffron velvet that beckons him away, my lord. Valiantly though I havestriven, I cannot wean his regard from that bit of cloth. Many timeslately have I observed him sitting in lonely corners and regarding itwith soulful eyes. Would that I had him for pupil in the place of thatsilly boy, Warbeck."

  "Ah! But that _was_ a stroke, Lady Anna!" said Douglas admiringly. "Theoftener I look upon him, the more perfect seemeth his resemblance tothe Yorkist brood. How doth he progress?"

  "Slow, my lord--tiresome slow. 'Tis hard to make him to forget hisplebeian ancestors. How fares it with the prisoner--he whom you havemewed within the dungeon?"

  "De Claverlok, mean you? Bah! 'Tis a gruff old warrior, that--with hisehs! and ehs! Still doth he stubbornly refuse to pledge me his word toseparate himself from Sir Richard. Nor, by my faith, can I gain hispromise to fight beneath our standard."

  "What then--the block, my lord?" interrogated Lady Douglas, yawning.

  "Aye--the block," replied Douglas, quietly.

  On the morning following the day upon which this dialogue took place,Sir Richard sauntered down the stairs to find Lady Anna recliningindolently at ease within the curtained alcove where first he had mether. She had with her a falcon, which she was stroking and feedingwith bits of bread held daintily between her red lips. She looked up,greeting the young knight's coming with a rare smile.

  "By the mass, dear Richard," said she, "and how early we are! Was itthe topsy-turvy going of the men at daybreak that brings you so soonafoot? Did you hear the sounding of the tucket-sonuance in yonder yard?Or, tell me, boy, is it but another trifle of a duel?"

  Right well was she aware that Sir Richard disliked to be called a boy,and she appeared to take a secret delight in thus teasing him. As wasusual, he denied the propriety of the name.

  "Tut, tut, then--bloody giant," said she, laughing merrily. "Is it, Ibeg of you, another play of blades?"

  "In the whole of Scotland," retorted Sir Richard, "remains there awarrior whom I have not met?"

  He had encountered three of them the day before, disarming two andslightly wounding the other.

  "Remains yet the mightiest of them all," Lady Anna answered,surrendering another morsel of bread to the pet falcon.

  "His name, Lady Anna?"

  "Bull Bengough. Would you dare to break a lance with him in theapproaching tournament ... for me, Sir Richard?"

  "One more, or less, what matters it, Lady Anna?" said Sir Richard. "Thegame is palling upon me. I swear I will."

  "I am growing fair frightened of your magic invincibility," said LadyAnna. "Which are they--fair spirits, or foul shades, by whom you havebeen gifted with a charmed life? In sober earnest, Richard, let me sayto you that a momentous question hinges upon your meeting with BullBengough," she added seriously, pressing the young knight's hand byway of a reward for his promise, and then went on to fill his head withgentle flattery.

  She told him of how the men-at-arms had sallied out that morningto give battle to a certain traitorous upstart. Unconsciously SirRichard's mind reverted to Tyrrell. After that, for a considerablespace, they sat together in silence, watching the workingmen engagedupon their task of bedizening the seating-place overlooking the listswhere the coming tournament was designed to be held.

  Presently Lady Anna went from the alcove, taking with her a bundle ofbooks and manuscripts which, Sir Richard had frequently remarked, sheoften carried about with her through the galleries.

  Since his mad entry through the sallyport of Yewe, this was the firstclear breathing space Sir Richard had been allowed. He suddenly thoughtof his companion of that eventful ride. What with the dining and thewining, and the dancing attendance upon this captivating maid and that,and the singularly rapid succession of duels, his time had been prettywell occupied. "But certes," he said to himself, "these are smallexcuses for having so absolutely forgotten de Claverlok, whom, by myfaith, I have not clapt eyes upon since leaving him at the foot of thestairs
to go into the presence of Douglas. True, Lord Douglas assuredme that he was to be rendered comfortable in other quarters. I daresay he is gone by now," he concluded. "But I'll away to the guards todiscover me what has become of the good fellow."

  But Sir Richard was counting the spots before his dies had been cast.He borrowed every guard's ear he could find within the precincts of thecastle, and returned from the long round barren of the faintest hint inregard to his friend's whereabouts. Not one of them, so they all swore,had so much as heard a whisper of his name.

  Feeling a presentiment that some direful mishap had betided hisfaithful companion, and heaping maledictions upon himself for athoughtless ingrate, the young knight was walking slowly along one ofthe inner galleries. As he parted a drapery he came suddenly upon thefool, Lightsom, who had discarded his motley and bells for a garb ofblack. His habitually mirthful countenance was wearing an expressionentirely in sympathy with his somber habit.

  "Give you a good-morrow, Lightsom," said Sir Richard, meaning but togive the fool greeting and pass on.

  "Thou'rt hunting my name by the heels, Sir Richard," Lightsomanswered, pausing to give the young knight speech. "Vanisheth themotley, vanisheth Lightsom, the laughing fool. Vanisheth as well mygood master, and I discover me without a body whereupon to practisemy cutting art withal. To-day, good my knight, I was to play theexecutioner. Till I doff this habit let my name be Gruesom....Bloodysom.... Anything, forsooth, but Lightsom! Dost take in the dolourof my visage?"

  "Ah! What an end to come by," observed Sir Richard. "An ax, wieldedby a fool. Name me thy unhappy victim--and loose thy hold of my cape,fellow."

  "Marry, sir knight, shudder not thus! Is the touch of a fool lesscontaminative than that of the executioner? An it be, I wot not why.One murders the King's good English, the other the King's goodsubjects--both are the slaves of unyielding circumstance. And besides,good my knight, the head, after its separation from the body, recks notof the means whereof it was accomplished. Thy sword--my ax--'tis allthe same to 't. So it be a bold, clean, and clever stroke, mark ye!"

  "Have done with your parleying, Lightsom, and----"

  "Say Grimsom, Sir Richard," the fool interrupted whiningly. "Smear notmy melancholy cloth with grime!"

  "Well, ... Grimsom, then, ... give me thy unhappy victim's name?"

  Leaning forward till his repulsive face almost touched Sir Richard's,he skewed his features all awry in a horrible grimace. This was hisonly answer. The young knight instantly went cold to the marrow, andrepeated his question tensely, passing the fool a rose noble.

  "This," said Lightsom tantalizingly, balancing the yellow disc uponhis raised forefinger, "will purchase thee one letter of his name, ...just one letter, Sir Richard. I am as hungry for gold as the block isthirsty for blood. Why need the pair of us be cheated? Say, ... wiltbuy me his full name in these round baubles?"

  Without a word Sir Richard counted out and passed the fool sixteen more.

  "Have I made the count correctly?" he whispered hoarsely.

  Lightsom went then to tallying with his clawlike finger upon his beakof a nose.

  "In truth," he muttered, "I had expected but ten more.... Six....Six.... Ah! I, by playing just then the fool, have myself disgraced mysomber trappings. I have clean forgotten that his name is Lionel, bythe rood, ... eh!"

  This was enough for Sir Richard. In a frenzy of poignant regret andmortal fear, and leaving the black dwarf crying shrilly for him not todivulge the source of his information, he dashed away down the longgallery in a mad search of Lady Anna.