In the Days of Chivalry: A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince

by Evelyn Everett-Green

  CHAPTER XXII. THE BLACK VISOR.

  "Brother, this is like old times," said Gaston, his hand upon Raymond'sshoulder as they stood side by side in the extreme prow of the vesselthat was conveying them once again towards the sunny south of France.

  The salt spray dashed in their faces, the hum of the cordage overheadwas in their ears, and their thoughts had gone back to that day, nownigh upon eight years back, when they, as unknown and untried boys, hadstarted forth to see the world together.

  Gaston's words broke the spell of silence, and Raymond turned his headto scan the stalwart form beside him with a look of fond admiration andpride.

  "Nay, scarce like those old days, Sir Gaston de Brocas," he answered,speaking the name with significant emphasis; and Gaston laughed andtossed back his leonine head with a gesture of mingled pride andimpatience as he said:

  "Tush, Brother! I scarce know how to prize my knighthood now that thoudost not share it with me -- thou so far more truly knightly and worthy.I had ever planned that we had been together in that as in all else. Whywert thou not with me that day when we vanquished the navy of proudSpain? The laurels are scarce worth the wearing that thou wearest notwith me."

  For Gaston was now indeed a knight. He had fought beside the Prince inthe recent engagement at sea, when a splendid naval victory had beenobtained over the Spanish fleet. He had performed prodigies of valour onthat occasion, and had been instrumental in the taking of many richprizes. And when the royal party had returned to Windsor, Gaston hadbeen named, with several more youthful gentlemen, to receive knighthoodat the hands of the Prince of Wales. Whereupon Master Bernard de Brocashad stood forward and told the story of the parentage of the twinbrothers, claiming kinship with them, and speaking in high praise ofRaymond, who, since the death of John, had been employed by his uncle ina variety of small matters that used to be John's province to see to. Inevery point the Gascon youth had shown aptitude and ability beyond theaverage, and had won high praise from his clerical kinsman, who was morethe statesman than the parish priest.

  Very warmly had the de Brocas brothers been welcomed by their kinsmen;and as they laid no claim to any lands or revenues in the possession ofother members of the family, not the least jealousy or ill-will wasexcited by their rise in social status. All that Gaston asked of theKing was liberty some day, when the hollow truce with France should bebroken, and when the King's matters were sufficiently settled to permitof private enterprise amongst his own servants, to gather about him acompany of bold kindred spirits, and strive to wrest back from thetreacherous and rapacious Sieur de Navailles the ancient castle of Saut,which by every law of right should belong to his own family.

  The King listened graciously to this petition, and gave Gaston fullencouragement to hope to regain his fathers' lost inheritance. But ofBasildene no word was spoken then; for the shrewd Master Bernard hadwarned Raymond that the time had not yet come to prosecute that claim --and indeed the neglected old house, crumbling to the dust and environedby an evil reputation which effectually kept all men away from it,seemed scarce worth the struggle it would cost to wrest it from thekeeping of Peter Sanghurst.

  This worthy, since his father's death, had entered upon a totally newcourse of existence. He had appeared at Court, sumptuously dressed, andwith a fairly large following. He had ingratiated himself with the Kingby a timely loan of gold (for the many drains upon Edward's resourceskept him always short of money for his household and family expenses),and was playing the part of a wealthy and liberal man. It was whisperedof him, as it had been of his father, that he had some secret whereby tofill his coffers with gold whenever they were empty, and this reputationgave him a distinct prestige with his comrades and followers. He was notaccused of black magic, like his father. His secret was supposed to havebeen inherited by him, not bought with the price of his soul. Itsurrounded him with a faint halo of mystery, but it was mystery that didhim good rather than harm. The King himself took favourable notice ofone possessed of such a golden secret, and for the present the Sanghurstwas better left in undisturbed possession of his ill-gotten gains.

  Raymond had learned the difficult lesson of patience, and accepted hisuncle's advice. It was the easier to be patient since he knew that Joanwas for the present safe from the persecutions of her hated suitor. Joanhad been summoned to go to her father almost immediately upon the deathof John de Brocas. He had sent for her to Woodcrych, and she hadtravelled thither at once with the escort sent to fetch her.

  Raymond had heard from her once since that time. In the letter she hadcontrived to send him she had told him that her mother was dead, havingfallen a victim to the dreaded distemper she had fled to avoid, butwhich had nevertheless seized her almost immediately upon her arrival ather husband's house. He too had been stricken, but had recovered; andhis mind having been much affected by his illness and trouble, he hadresolved upon a pilgrimage to Rome, in which his daughter was toaccompany him. She did not know how long they would be absent fromEngland, and save for the separation from her true love, she was glad togo. Her brother would return to the Court, and only she and her fatherwould take the journey. She had heard nothing all these weeks of thedreaded foe, and hoped he might have passed for ever from her life.

  And in this state matters stood with the brothers as the vessel borethem through the tossing blue waves that bright May morning, everyplunge of the well-fitted war sloop bringing them nearer and nearer tothe well-known and well-loved harbour of Bordeaux.

  Yet it was on no private errand that they were bound, though Gastoncould not approach the familiar shores of Gascony without thinking ofthat long-cherished hope of his now taking so much more solid a shape.

  The real object of this small expedition was, however, the relief of thetown of St. Jean d'Angely, belonging to the English King, which had beenblockaded for some time by the French monarch. The distressedinhabitants had contrived to send word to Edward of their strait, and hehad despatched the Earl of Warwick with a small picked army to its relief.

  The Gascon twins had been eager to join this small contingent, and hadvolunteered for the service. Gaston was put in command of a band of finesoldiers, and his brother took service with him.

  This was the first time for several years that Raymond had been in arms,for of late his avocations had been of a more peaceful nature. But hepossessed all the soldier instincts of his race, and by his brother'sside would go joyfully into battle again.

  He did not know many of the knights and gentlemen serving in this smallexpedition, nor did Gaston either, for that matter. It was too small anundertaking to attract the flower of Edward's chivalry, and the BlackDeath had made many gaps in the ranks of the comrades the boys had firstknown when they had fought under the King's banner. But the satisfactionof being together again made amends for all else. Indeed they scarce hadeyes for any but each other, and had so much to tell and to ask that thevoyage was all too short for them.

  Amongst those on board Raymond had frequently noticed the figure of atall man always in full armour, and always wearing his visor down, sothat none might see his face. His armour was of fine workmanship, lightand strong, and seemed in no way to incommode him. There was no deviceupon it, save some serpents cunningly inlaid upon the breastplate, andthe visor was richly chased and inlaid with black, so that the wholeeffect was gloomy and almost sinister. Raymond had once or twice askedthe name of the Black Visor, as men called him, but none had been ableto tell him. It was supposed that he was under some vow -- a not veryuncommon thing in the days of chivalry -- and that he might not removehis visor until he had performed some gallant feat of arms.

  Sometimes it had seemed to the youth as though the dark eyes looking outthrough the holes in that black covering were fixed more frequently uponhimself than upon any one else; and if he caught full for a moment thefiery gleam, he would wonder for the instant it lasted where and when hehad seen those eyes before. But his mind was not in any sense of theword concerned with the Black Visor, and it was only now and then he
gave him a passing thought.

  And now the good vessel was slipping through the still waters of themagnificent harbour of Bordeaux. The deck was all alive with the bustleof speedy landing, and the Gascon brothers were scanning the familiarlandmarks and listening with delight to the old familiar tongue.

  Familiar faces there were none to be seen, it is true. The boys were toomuch of foreigners now to have many old friends in the queenly city. Butthe whole place was homelike to them, and would be so to their lives'ends. Moreover, they hoped ere they took ship again to have time andopportunity to revisit old haunts and see their foster parents and thegood priest once more; but for the present their steps were turnednorthward towards the gallant little beleaguered town which had appealedto the English King for aid.

  A few days were spent at Bordeaux collecting provisions for the town,and mustering the reinforcements which the loyal city was always readyand eager to supply in answer to any demand on the part of the Roy Outremer.

  The French King had died the previous year, and his son John, formerlyDuke of Normandy, was now upon the throne; but the situation between thetwo nations had by no means changed, and indeed the bitter feelingbetween them was rather increased than diminished by the many pettybreaches of faith on one side or another, of which this siege of St.Jean d'Angely was an example.

  On the whole the onus of breaking the truce rested more with the Frenchthan the English. But a mere truce, where no real peace is looked for oneither side, is but an unsatisfactory state of affairs at best; andalthough both countries were sufficiently exhausted by recent wars andthe ravages of the plague to desire the interlude prolonged, yethostilities of one kind or another never really ceased, and thestruggles between the rival lords of Brittany and their heroic wivesalways kept the flame of war smouldering.

  Gascony as a whole was always loyal to the English cause, and Bordeauxtoo well knew what she owed to the English trade ever to be backwardwhen called upon by the English King. Speedily a fine band of soldierswas assembled, and at dawn one day the march northward was commenced.

  The little army mustered some five thousand men, all well fed and incapital condition for the march. Raymond rode by his brother's side wellin the van, and he noticed presently, amongst the new recruits who hadjoined them, another man of very tall stature, who also wore a blackvisor over his face. He was plainly a friend to the unknown knight (ifknight he were) who had sailed in their vessel, for they rode side byside deep in talk; and behind them, in close and regular array, rode anumber of their immediate followers, all wearing a black tuft in theirsteel caps and a black band round their arm.

  However, there was nothing very noteworthy in this. Many men hadfollowers marked by some distinctive badge, and the sombre littlecontingent excited small notice. They all looked remarkably finesoldiers, and appeared to be under excellent discipline. More than thatwas not asked of any man, and the Gascons were well known to be amongstthe best soldiers of the day.

  The early start and the long daylight enabled the gallant little band topush on in the one day to the banks of the Charente, and within a fewmiles of St. Jean itself. There, however, a halt was called, for theFrench were in a remarkably good position, and it was necessary to takecounsel how they might best be attacked.

  In the first place there was the river to be crossed, and the one bridgewas in the hands of the enemy, who had fortified it, and would be ableto hold it against great odds. They were superior in numbers to theirassailants, and probably knew their advantage.

  Gaston, who well understood the French nature, was the first to make alikely suggestion.

  "Let us appear to retreat," he said. "They will then see our smallnumbers, and believe that we are flying through fear of them. Doubtlessthey will at once rush out to pursue and attack us, and after we havedrawn them from their strong position, we can turn again upon them andslay them, or drive them into the river."

  This suggestion was received with great favour, and it was decided toact upon it that very day. There were still several hours of daylightbefore them, and the men, who had had wine and bread distributed tothem, were full of eagerness for the fray.

  The French, who were quite aware of the strength of their own position,and very confident of ultimate victory, were narrowly watching themovements of the English, whose approach had been for some time expectedby them. They were certain that they could easily withstand theonslaught of the whole body, if these were bold enough to attack, andthey well knew how terribly thinned would the English ranks becomebefore they could hope to cross the bridge and march upon the main bodyof the French army encamped before the town.

  Great, then, was the exultation of the French when they saw how muchterror they had inspired in the heart of the foe. They were eagerlyobserving their movements; they saw that a council had been calledamongst the chiefs, and that deliberations had been entered into bythem. But so valiant were the English in fight, and so many were thevictories they had obtained with numbers far inferior to those of thefoe, that there was a natural sense of uncertainty as to the result of abattle, even when all the chances of the war seemed to be against theforeign foe. But when the trumpets actually sounded the retreat, andthey saw the whole body moving slowly away, then indeed did they feelthat triumph was near, and a great shout of derision and anger rose upin the still evening air.

  "To horse, men, and after them!" was the word given, and a cry of fiercejoy went up from the whole army. "My Lords of England, you will not getoff in that way. You have come hither by your own will; you shall notleave until you have paid your scot."

  No great order was observed as the Frenchmen sprang to horse andgalloped across the bridge, and so after the retreating foe. Every manwas eager to bear his share in the discomfiture of the Englishcontingent, and hardly staying to arm themselves fully, the eager,hot-headed French soldiers, horse and foot, swung along in any sort oforder, only eager to cut to pieces the flower of the English chivalry(as their leaders had dubbed this little band), and inflict a dark stainupon the honour of Edward's brilliant arms.

  In the ranks of this same English contingent, now in rapid and orderlyretreat, there was to the full as much exultation and lust of battle asin the hearts of their pursuing foes. Every man grasped his weapon andset his teeth firmly, the footmen marching steadily onwards at a rapidand swinging pace, whilst the horsemen, who brought up the rear -- forthey were to be the first to charge when the trumpet sounded the advance-- kept turning their heads to watch the movement of the foe, and sentup a brief huzzah as they saw that their ruse had proved successful, andthat their foes were coming fast after them.

  "Keep thou by my side in the battle today, Raymond," said Gaston, as helooked to the temper of his weapons and glanced backwards over hisshoulder. "Thou hast been something more familiar with the pen than thesword of late -- and thy faithful esquire likewise. Fight, then, by myside, and together we will meet and overcome the foe. They will fightlike wolves, I doubt not, for they will be bitterly wrathful when theysee the trick we have played upon them. Wherefore quit not my side, bethe fighting never so hot, for I would have thee ever with me."

  "I wish for nothing better for myself," answered Raymond, with a fondproud glance at the stalwart Gaston, who now towered a full head tallerabove him, and was a very king amongst men.

  He was mounted on a fine black war horse, who had carried his mastervictoriously through many charges before today. Raymond's horse was muchlighter in build, a wiry little barb with a distinct Arab strain,fearless in battle, and fleet as the wind, but without the weight orsolidity of Gaston's noble charger. Indeed, Gaston had found some faultwith the creature's lack of weight for withstanding the onslaught ofcavalry charge; but he suited Raymond so well in other ways that thelatter had declined to make any change, and told his brother smilinglythat his great Lucifer had weight and strength for both.

  Scarcely had Gaston given this charge to his brother before the trumpetssounded a new note, and at once the compact little body of horse andfoot halted, whee
led round, and put themselves in position for theadvance. Another blast from those same trumpets, given with all theverve and joyousness of coming victory, and the horses of their ownaccord sprang forward to the attack. Then the straggling and dismayedbody of Frenchmen who had been pushing on in advance of their fellows tofall upon the flying English, found themselves opposed to one of thosemagnificent cavalry charges which made the glory and the terror of theEnglish arms throughout the reign of the great Edward.

  Vainly trying to rally themselves, and with shouts of "St. Dennis!" "St.Dennis!" the Frenchmen rushed upon their foes; and the detachments frombehind coming up quickly, the engagement became general at once, and wasmost hotly contested on both sides.

  Gaston was one of the foremost to charge into the ranks of the French,and singling out the tallest and strongest adversary he could see, rodefull upon him, and was quickly engaged in a fierce hand-to-handconflict. Raymond was close beside him, and soon found himself engagedin parrying the thrusts of several foes. But Roger was quickly at hisside, taking his own share of hard blows; and as the foot and horse frombehind pressed on after the impetuous leaders, and more and moredetachments from the French army came up to assist their comrades, themelee became very thick, and in the crush it was impossible to see whatwas happening except just in front, and to avoid the blows levelled athim was all that Raymond was able to think of for many long minutes --minutes that seemed more like hours.

  When the press became a little less thick about him, Raymond lookedround for his brother, but could not see him. A body of riders, movingin a compact wedge, had forced themselves in between himself and Gaston.He saw the white plume in his brother's helmet waving at some distanceaway to the left, but when he tried to rein in his horse and reach him,he still found himself surrounded by the same phalanx of mountedsoldiers, who kept pressing him by sheer weight on and on away to theright, though the tide of battle was most distinctly rolling to theleft. The French were flying promiscuously back to their lines, and theEnglish soldiers were in hot pursuit.

  Raymond was no longer amid foes. He had long since ceased to have to usehis sword either for attack or defence, but he could not check theheadlong pace of his mettlesome little barb, nor could he by anyexertion of strength turn the creature's head in any other direction. Ashe was in the midst of those he looked upon as friends, he had nouneasiness as to his own position, even though entirely separated fromGaston and Roger, who generally kept close at his side. He was so littleused of late to the manoeuvres of war, that he fancied this headlonggallop, in which he was taking an involuntary part, might be the resultof military tactics, and that he should see its use presently.

  But as he and his comrades flew over the ground, and the din of thebattle died away in his ears, and the last of the evening sunlight fadedfrom the sky, a strange sense of coming ill fell upon Raymond's spirit.Again he made a most resolute and determined effort to check the fierylittle creature he rode, who seemed as if his feet were furnished withwings, so fast he spurned the ground beneath his hoofs.

  Then for the first time the youth found that this mad pace was caused byregular goading from the silent riders who surrounded him. Turning inhis saddle he saw that these men were one and all engaged in prickingand spurring on the impetuous little steed; and as he cast a keen andsearching look at these strange riders, he saw that they all wore intheir steel caps the black tuft of the followers of the Black Visor andhis sable-coated companion, and that these two leaders rode themselves alittle distance behind.

  Greatly astonished at the strange thing that was befalling him, yet not,so far, alarmed for his personal safety, Raymond drew his sword andlooked steadily round at the ring of men surrounding him.

  "Cease to interfere with my horse, gentlemen," he said, in stern thoughcourteous accents. "It may be your pleasure thus to ride away from thebattle, but it is not mine; and I will ask of you to let me take my waywhilst you take yours. Why you desire my company I know not, but I donot longer desire yours; wherefore forbear!"

  Not a word or a sign was vouchsafed him in answer; but as he attemptedto rein back his panting horse, now fairly exhausted with the strugglebetween the conflicting wills of so many persons, the dark silent riderscontinued to urge him forward with open blows and pricks from swordpoint, till, as he saw that his words were still unheeded, a dangerousglitter shone in Raymond's eyes.

  "Have a care how you molest me, gentlemen!" he said, in clear, ringingtones. "Ye are carrying a jest (if jest it be meant for) a little toofar. The next who dares to touch my horse must defend himself from mysword."

  And then a sudden change came over the bearing of his companions. Adozen swords sprang from their scabbards. A score of harsh voicesreplied to these words in fierce accents of defiance. One -- two --three heavy blows fell upon his head; and though he set his teeth andwheeled about to meet and grapple with his foes, he felt from the firstmoment that he had no chance whatever against such numbers, and that theonly thing to do was to sell his life as dearly as he could.

  There was no time to ask or even to wonder at the meaning of thismysterious attack. All he could do was to strive to shield his head fromthe blows that rained upon him, and breathe a prayer for succour in themidst of his urgent need.

  And then he heard a voice speaking in accents of authority: where had heheard that voice before?

  "Hold, men! have I not warned you to do him no hurt? Kill him not, buttake him alive."

  That was the last thing Raymond remembered. His next sensation was offalling and strangulation. Then a blackness swam before his eyes, andsense and memory alike fled.