by David Ker
CHAPTER VII
A Strange Tale
"Raise thy lance-point a thought higher, lad; ay, so. Now put thy steedto his full career, but see thou keep him well in hand. Now wheelhim--so, deftly done! Yet a few months' training, and, though thou hastbut sixteen years, and needest no barber, I trow thy gay cousins willfind thee their match, boast as they may."
The speaker was Sir Godefroi de Tinteniac, a near neighbour of the Siredu Guesclin; and the lad whom he was training to manage horse and lanceon a wide sweep of greensward a few miles from Rennes, was Bertrand duGuesclin himself.
"Think you, then, noble sir," said Bertrand, with sparkling eyes,"that, with the aid of your kind teaching, I may yet make some figurein the ranks of chivalry?"
"That thou wilt, and no mean figure either, if I know aught of men,"said the old knight, heartily. "I ever said thy kinsfolk did ill toleave thee thus untaught, and to gloom upon thee because thou hast notthe smooth face of my lady's page, nor the dainty shape of acourt-minion. Marry, if it were sin to be hard-favoured, what of me?"
Bertrand could not repress a smile as he glanced at the veteranwarrior's grim visage (which, thanks to the countless scars that seamedit, was almost as ugly as his own), and Sir Godefroi smiledgood-humouredly in his turn.
"Thou seest they lie not who call me 'The Grim Knight,'" said the oldgentleman, with a hoarse chuckle. "Hark ye, my son; how if I appointmyself thy godfather, and dub thee the Grim Knight after myself? A goodknight may be grim, thou know'st, in the eyes of foes as well asfriends; and I warrant thou wilt not shame the title."
"Gramercy for your courtesy, kind sir," said Du Guesclin, withcharacteristic modesty, "but 'tis overmuch for one who hath never doneany deed of arms. Wait but till I have proved my manhood, and then willI be prouder to be your godson, than if men should crown me King ofFrance!"
"So be it; and methinks I shall not wait long. But who comes here insuch hot haste?"
Two men were seen galloping toward them, the foremost of whom, as hecame nearer, proved to be one of Tinteniac's own followers, seeminglyacting as guide to a tall, soldier-like man-at-arms, in a steel cap andleathern "jack," quilted with lozenge-shaped scales of iron, on astrong black horse.
"Here is one with a letter and token, an't please your worship," saidthe retainer, "which he is charged to give into no hand but your own."
The letter was mere Greek to Sir Godefroi, who, like most gentlemen ofhis time, could neither read nor write, and was vastly proud of thefact. But the token (a small ruby ring) seemed to have a specialimportance of its own, for hardly had he looked at it, when he saidhastily to Bertrand--
"Think me not uncourteous, I pray, if I leave thee somewhat suddenly,for this matter must be dealt with straightway. Follow me to thecastle, good fellow," added he to the messenger, "and when thou hasthad food and rest, thou shalt bear back mine answer."
Away he dashed, attended by his own follower, while Du Guesclin and themessenger came after them at an easier pace.
"Thou art well mounted, friend," said Bertrand, eyeing the man'ssplendid horse admiringly. "Hast ridden him far to-day?"
"From Chateau Raguenel, my lord, since I broke my fast; and he hathborne me well, too, for, having charge to make speed, I let not grassgrow under his hoofs, I trow."
"Chateau Raguenel!" cried the boy. "A good ride, in sooth! and, as thousay'st, he hath borne thee well, for few steeds would have carried aman of thy inches so far, and shown as smooth a coat when 'twas over."
He patted the gallant beast's smooth, shining neck; and it pricked itsears at the caress, and rubbed its velvety muzzle against his shoulder.
"Now I bethink me," resumed Bertrand, "is not the Sire de Raguenel hewho hath a daughter that is a fairy?"
"Say rather a saint," cried the man-at-arms warmly; "for, were the LadyEpiphanie to be taken up to heaven this very day, like the blessed St.Eloi (Elijah) of old, the angels would find little to mend in her, tofit her for their company!"
"I meant no slur on the lady--Heaven forbid!" said Du Guesclin,quickly. "But methinks I have heard men call her 'Tiphaine la Fee'."
"It may not be denied that she has strange power, though she has everused it for good," replied the spearman, sinking his voice to animpressive whisper. "Without doubt she can read the future as I wouldthe face of the sky; and there is such might in her lightest word thatnone may say her nay. In truth, had she not had power to make me breaka vow that I had made (and that, too, when she was but a child) by thistime my body had been feeding the ravens on a gallows-tree, and my soulin a worse place still."
"Say'st thou so?" cried Bertrand, eyeing him keenly. "Tell me the tale,then, for it must needs be worth hearing."
The soldier, visibly pleased at finding so attentive a listener to astory that he was evidently burning to tell, began as follows--
"I am of Normandy, noble sir, and it fared with me as with otherpeasants of those parts; all alike were crushed and trampled down bythe oppression of our master. Count me not, I pray, as one who loves tospeak ill of dignities, for well I wot that men cannot live withoutseigneurs and nobles, and that a land which lacked them would be as abody without bones; but in our case the old saying was made good, thatthe shepherd may be worse than the wolf. This man had his cottage burntdown, and that man had his daughter carried off, and the other had hisonly son hanged for killing a hare in his lord's woods, to save his oldfather from dying of hunger; and----"
"Say no more of that, good fellow," said the young noble, wincing as ifin sudden pain. "I know but too well that many of us nobles have sinnedgrievously against God in such wise as thou sayest; and, for mine ownpart, I have made a solemn vow that if ever I rule in my father's stead(long may it be ere that day come!), every vassal of mine shall have asfair play as if he were the Duke of Brittany himself!"
"Now, may God bless you for that word, noble sir!" cried the other,fervently, "and would to Heaven every noble in the land would make thesame vow, and keep it. But to my tale. Heavier and heavier waxed ourburden, till at last we could bear no more; and we said in our heartsthat it was better to die at once and all together, biting and tearingto the last, as dies a wolf at bay, than be destroyed one by one, as abutcher slays sheep. So we forsook our homes, banded ourselvestogether, and went forth to the wild wood, to live by point of arrowand edge of knife!"
"Thou hast been an outlaw of the forest, then?" said Bertrand, with aninterest unalloyed by any tinge of scorn or aversion; for, at a timewhen every petty baron was himself a robber on a grand scale, thedisgrace in such cases lay not in having robbed, but in not havingrobbed enough.
"Ay, and a captain of outlaws, for I was the leader of our band; andthey and I sware a solemn oath never to spare knight or noble who mightfall into our hands; and, should we do so, the Evil One should thatmoment snatch us away."
"And how fared ye after that?" asked young Du Guesclin, eagerly.
"The ballads and romaunts would have us believe that outlaws live rightmerrily," said the ex-bandit, with a bitter smile; "but trust them not.Vengeance we had, indeed, in full measure; but vengeance is as when oneeateth snow to slake one's thirst--it is good for a time, but then isthe torment greater than before. And then for pleasure--such pleasureas we had was as when one in mortal pain drowneth his agony for a briefspace in strong wine. While we were fighting and plundering andslaying, or rioting and revelling over our booty, we could hold at baythe thoughts which hunted us like bloodhounds day and night; but whenthe drink had died out of us, and we lay awake beneath the black,whispering trees through the long dark hours of night, beside our dyingfire, then was the time when the Wicked One dug his claws into ourhearts! And then, with the thought of all that lay behind us, and stillmore with the thought of all that lay before, 'twas marvel we went notclean distraught!"
Here he paused a moment, as if overcome with the terror of these gloomyrecollections, while Bertrand eyed him with a look of heartfelt pitywhich the rough soldier see
med fully to understand and appreciate.
"One night," he resumed at length, "we were at the height of our madrevels, shouting and brawling over our liquor, singing ribald songs,and defying Heaven itself with mockery and blasphemy, when all at oncethere stood in the midst of us, full in the light of the fire--no mancould tell whence or how--a little child clothed in white, with long,fair hair, and a face like that of the Holy Child in the greatminster-church of Rouen.
"Then we all shrank back affrighted, thinking no less than that thismust be our Lord Himself, appearing to us in the same form in which Hefirst came on earth; and all the black deeds we had done rose up atonce in our memory, blacker than ever.
"The child came forward as boldly as if it had no fear of our grimfaces and bare blades, and, holding out her little hands to us, saidpleadingly--
"'Oh, please come quick to help my father; he is sore hurt!'
"Then I plucked up heart somewhat, seeing that it was but a little maidof mortal mould; and I made shift to ask--
"'Who is thy father, fair child?'
"'The Sire Robert de Raguenel,' she replied."
"Raguenel!" echoed Du Guesclin. "Then this child was the DemoiselleTiphaine herself!"
"Even she, and no other. Then she caught my wrist with both her tinyhands, as if to drag me with her by main force, and cried impatiently--
"'Quick--quick to my father! I have not strength to drag the horse offhim myself!'
"We thought of our compact that the Evil One should carry us away if weever spared knight or noble. We looked at each other, and at thechild's pleading face, and then--we were all hurrying to her father'said, one faster than another."
"Well done! well done!" shouted the boy-noble, excitedly. "And whatbefell next?"
"We found there an armed knight entangled beneath his steed, and allalone; for, as we learned later, he had outridden his train, and,losing his way in the darkness with but two followers, had got deeperinto the wood instead of out. Then his horse, taking fright at thefire-glow and the din of our wild ado, had fallen with him and kept himdown, while his two retainers, thinking themselves assailed by theforest-demons, had left their lord and taken flight, likechicken-hearted dastards as they were."
"So, then," cried Bertrand, with sparkling eyes, "this child came aloneinto the midst of a band of armed robbers to seek help for her father!In good truth, 'twas as bold a deed as ever was done!"
"You say sooth, my lord. Braver deed hath no man done--no, not Rolandhimself! In a trice we got the knight clear of his steed and bore himaway, for he was too sore hurt to walk. But there was well-nigh a fightamong us who was to carry the child, for every one would be the man todo it. Howbeit, it was at last accorded to me as captain; and when Ilifted her in my arms, and felt her tiny hand cling trustfully to myneck, I bethought me how St. Christopher bare the Holy Child in likemanner across the flooded river, and, for the first time for many aweary month, I dared to pray."
Du Guesclin, more moved than he would have cared to own, held out hishand to the ex-robber, who grasped it warmly.
"By good hap the knight had no bones broken, though he was sorebruised; and, there being no doctor within a league, he mended apace,being a strong and likely man, and having the free air of the greenwoodto aid him. As for the little demoiselle, she made friends with usstraightway, sitting on our knees and taking food from our hands as ifshe had known us all her life; and ere she had abode three days withus, there was not a man but would gladly have perilled his life toplease her; and from brawls and blasphemy and mis-seeming words werefrained as heedfully as had we been before our holy father the pope.
"Now, when the good knight was once more able to sit saddle-fast, hecalled me unto him, and thus he said--
"'Good fellow, thou and thy comrades have done me right masterfulservice, and it is not the wont of Robert de Raguenel to show himselfungrateful. What men ye are I know not, nor care; but if ye bedisbanded soldiers in quest of fresh employ' (and there was a twinklein his eye as he spake, which showed he knew right well how the casereally stood), 'ye might do worse than take service with me. How sayye?'
"You may think we were not minded to haggle over such an offer; butthat all might be done fairly and honestly, I told him of our impiousvow, which devoted our lives and souls to the Evil One. But he madelight of it, saying that such vows were better broken than kept, andthat as Satan had not claimed the forfeit, it was plain that he had nopower to do it; and we should all be absolved from our rash oath assoon as we got into Brittany.
"'Then,' quoth I, 'ere we pledge ourselves to be thy men, let yon fairchild of thine pray for us to God; for methinks her pure soul is nearerto Him than the holiest monk in Christendom.'
"As I said, so it was done; and when I saw her tiny hands folded, andheard her clear, sweet voice praying for me--for _me_! it was as if aheavy stone were rolled from off my heart."
He ceased, and both were silent for a while.
"And since that time," asked Bertrand at last, "thou hast followed DeRaguenel's banner?"
"That have I," said the Norman, "and follow it I will while I can putfoot in stirrup, or take lance in hand."
"Long may'st thou be able to do both, brave man," said Du Guesclin,heartily. "But tell me, I pray thee--this Lady Tiphaine, who readeththe future as a pilot reads the stars, hath she ever told aught of thydestiny?"
"She hath, in good sooth, for my lord her father craved it of her; butall she told us thereof was that my life must end on that day when sheshould meet for the first time the man who was appointed to save herfrom her greatest peril, and aid France in its sorest need."
Du Guesclin started visibly, for the words brought back to his mind,suddenly and startlingly as a flash of lightning, his mysterious dream,and the strange prophecies that had preceded it; and for some momentshe was silent and thoughtful.
"Said she who the destined man was to be?" he inquired at length. "Somemighty champion, belike?"
"Nay, of that she said nought," replied the man-at-arms. "She did buttell us that the day of his coming should be the day of my death. And,for mine own part, I am well content with such a bode; for in this I amof the mind of an old hunting-hound--when my teeth fail, and others cando better service to my master and mistress than I can, then 'tis fulltime that my life should end."