Chapter Six: The Christmas Feast at Steeple
The fourth day after Wulf's visit to Southminster was Christmasmorning, and the weather being bad, Sir Andrew and his householddid not ride to Stangate, but attended mass in Steeple Church.Here, after service, according to his custom on this day, he gavea largesse to his tenants and villeins, and with it his goodwishes and a caution that they should not become drunk at theirYuletide feast, as was the common habit of the time.
"We shall not get the chance," said Wulf, as they walked to theHall, "since that merchant Georgios has not delivered the wine,of which I hoped to drink a cup to-night."
"Perhaps he has sold it at a better price to someone else; itwould be like a Cypriote," answered Sir Andrew, smiling.
Then they went into the hall, and as had been agreed betweenthem, together the brethren gave their Christmas gifts toRosamund. She thanked them prettily enough, and much admired thebeauty of the work. When they told her that it had not yet beenpaid for, she laughed and said that, however they were come by,she would wear both tunic and veil at their feast, which was tobe held at nightfall.
About two o'clock in the afternoon a servant came into the hallto say that a wain drawn by three horses and accompanied by twomen, one of whom led the horses, was coming down the road fromSteeple village.
"Our merchant--and in time after all," said Wulf, and, followedby the others, he went out to meet them.
Georgios it was, sure enough, wrapped in a great sheepskin cloaksuch as Cypriotes wear in winter, and seated on the head of oneof his own barrels.
"Your pardon, knights," he said as he scrambled nimbly to theground. "The roads in this country are such that, although I haveleft nearly half my load at Stangate, it has taken me four longhours to come from the Abbey here, most of which time we spent inmud-holes that have wearied the horses and, as I fear, strainedthe wheels of this crazy wagon. Still, here we are at last, and,noble sir," he added, bowing to Sir Andrew, "here too is the winethat your son bought of me."
"My nephew," interrupted Sir Andrew.
"Once more your pardon. I thought from their likeness to you thatthese knights were your sons."
"Has he bought all that stuff?" asked Sir Andrew--for there werefive tubs on the wagon, besides one or two smaller kegs and somepackages wrapped in sheepskin.
"No, alas!" answered the Cypriote ruefully, and shrugging hisshoulders. "Only two of the Mavro. The rest I took to the Abbey,for I understood the holy Prior to say he would purchase sixcasks, but it seems that it was but three he needed."
"He said three," put in Wulf.
"Did he, sir? Then doubtless the error was mine, who speak yourtongue but ill. So I must drag the rest back again over thoseaccursed roads," and he made another grimace. "Yet I will askyou, sir," he added to Sir Andrew, "to lighten the load a littleby accepting this small keg of the old sweet vintage that growson the slopes of Trooidos."
"I remember it well," said Sir Andrew, with a smile; "but, friend,I do not wish to take your wine for nothing."
At these words the face of Georgios beamed.
"What, noble sir," he exclaimed, "do you know my land of Cyprus?Oh, then indeed I kiss your hands, and surely you will notaffront me by refusing this little present? Indeed, to be frank,I can afford to lose its price, who have done a good trade, evenhere in Essex."
"As you will," said Sir Andrew. "I thank you, and perhaps youhave other things to sell."
"I have indeed; a few embroideries if this most gracious ladywould be pleased to look at them. Some carpets also, such as theMoslems used to pray on in the name of their false prophet,Mahomet," and, turning, he spat upon the ground.
"I see that you are a Christian," said Sir Andrew. "Yet, althoughI fought against them, I have known many a good Mussulman. Nor doI think it necessary to spit at the name of Mahomet, who to mymind was a great man deceived by the artifice of Satan."
"Neither do I," said Godwin reflectively. "Its true servantsshould fight the enemies of the Cross and pray for their souls,not spit at them."
The merchant looked at them curiously, fingering the silvercrucifix that hung upon his breast. "The captors of the Holy Citythought otherwise," he said, "when they rode into the Mosque ElAksa up to their horses' knees in blood, and I have been taughtotherwise. But the times grow liberal, and, after all, what righthas a poor trader whose mind, alas! is set more on gain than onthe sufferings of the blessed Son of Mary," and he crossedhimself, "to form a judgment upon such high matters? Pardon me, Iaccept your reproof, who perhaps am bigoted."
Yet, had they but known it, this "reproof" was to save the lifeof many a man that night.
"May I ask help with these packages?" he went on, "as I cannotopen them here, and to move the casks? Nay, the little keg I willcarry myself, as I hope that you will taste of it at yourChristmas feast. It must be gently handled, though I fear me thatthose roads of yours will not improve its quality." Then twistingthe tub from the end of the wain onto his shoulder in such afashion that it remained upright, he walked off lightly towardsthe open door of the hall.
"For one not tall that man is strangely strong," thought Wulf,who followed with a bale of carpets.
Then the other casks of wine were stowed away in the stone cellarbeneath the hall.
Leaving his servant--a silent, stupid-looking, dark-eyed fellownamed Petros--to bait the horses, Georgios entered the hall andbegan to unpack his carpets and embroideries with all the skillof one who had been trained in the bazaars of Cairo, Damascus, orNicosia. Beautiful things they were which he had to show;broideries that dazzled the eye, and rugs of many hues, yet softand bright as an otter's pelt. As Sir Andrew looked at them,remembering long dead days, his face softened.
"I will buy that rug," he said, "for of a truth it might be oneon which I lay sick many a year ago in the house of Ayoub atDamascus. Nay, I haggle not at the price. I will buy it." Then hefell to thinking how, whilst lying on such a rug (indeed,although he knew it not, it was the same), looking through therounded beads of the wooden lattice-work of his window, he hadfirst seen his Eastern wife walking in the orange garden with herfather Ayoub. Afterwards, still recalling his youth, he began totalk of Cyprus, and so time went on until the dark was falling.
Now Georgios said that he must be going, as he had sent back hisguide to Southminster, where the man desired to eat his Christmasfeast. So the reckoning was paid--it was a long one--and whilethe horses were harnessed to the wain the merchant bored holes inthe little cask of wine and set spigots in them, bidding them allbe sure to drink of it that night. Then calling down good fortuneon them for their kindness and liberality, he made his salaams inthe Eastern fashion, and departed, accompanied by Wulf.
Within five minutes there was a sound of shouting, and Wulf wasback again saying that the wheel of the wain had broken at thefirst turn, so that now it was lying upon its side in thecourtyard. Sir Andrew and Godwin went out to see to the matter,and there they found Georgios wringing his hands, as only anEastern merchant can, and cursing in some foreign tongue.
"Noble knights," he said, "what am I to do? Already it is nearlydark, and how I shall find my way up yonder steep hill I knownot. As for the priceless broideries, I suppose they must stayhere for the night, since that wheel cannot be mended tillto-morrow--"
"As you had best do also," said Sir Andrew kindly. "Come, man, donot grieve; we are used to broken axles here in Essex, and youand your servant may as well eat your Christmas dinners atSteeple as in Southminster."
"I thank you, Sir knight; I thank you. But why should I, who ambut a merchant, thrust myself upon your noble company? Let mestop outside with my man, Petros, and dine with your people inthat barn, where I see they are making ready their food."
"By no means," answered Sir Andrew. "Leave your servant with mypeople, who will look after him, and come you into the hall, andtell me some more of Cyprus till our food is ready, which will besoon. Do not fear for your goods; they shall be placed undercover."
"All unworthy as I am,
I obey," answered the obsequious Georgios."Petros, do you understand? This noble lord gives us hospitalityfor the night. His people will show you where to eat and sleep,and help you with your horses."
This man, who, he explained, was a Cypriote--a fisherman insummer and a muleteer in winter--bowed, and fixing his dark eyesupon those of his master, spoke in some foreign tongue.
"You hear what he says, the silly fellow?" said Georgios. "What?You do not understand Greek--only Arabic? Well, he asks me togive him money to pay for his dinner and his night's lodging. Youmust forgive him, for he is but a simple peasant, and cannotbelieve that anyone may be lodged and fed without payment. I willexplain to him, the pig!" And explain he did in shrill, highnotes, of which no one else could understand a word.
"There, Sir Knight, I do not think he will offend you so again.Ah! look. He is walking off--he is sulky. Well, let him alone; hewill be back for his dinner, the pig! Oh, the wet and the wind! ACypriote does not mind them in his sheepskins, in which he willsleep even in the snow."
So, Georgios still declaiming upon the shortcomings of hisservant, they went back into the hall. Here the conversation soonturned upon other matters, such as the differences between thecreeds of the Greek and Latin churches--a subject upon which heseemed to be an expert--and the fear of the Christians in Cypruslest Saladin should attempt to capture that island.
At length five o'clock came, and Georgios having first been takento the lavatory--it was but a stone trough--to wash his hands,was led to the dinner, or rather to the supper-table, which stoodupon a dais in front of the entrance to the solar. Here placeswere laid for six--Sir Andrew, his nephews, Rosamund, thechaplain, Matthew, who celebrated masses in the church and ate atthe hall on feast-days, and the Cypriote merchant, Georgioshimself. Below the dais, and between it and the fire, was anothertable, at which were already gathered twelve guests, being thechief tenants of Sir Andrew and the reeves of his outlying lands.On most days the servants of the house, with the huntsmen,swineherds, and others, sat at a third table beyond the fire. Butas nothing would stop these from growing drunken on the good aleat a feast, and though many ladies thought little of it, therewas no sin that Rosamund hated so much as this, now their lordsent them to eat and drink at their ease in the barn which stoodin the courtyard with its back to the moat.
When all had taken their seats, the chaplain said grace, and themeal began. It was rude but very plentiful. First, borne in bythe cook on a wooden platter, came a great codfish, whereof hehelped portions to each in turn, laying them on their"trenchers"--that is, large slices of bread--whence they atethem with the spoons that were given to each. After the fishappeared the meats, of which there were many sorts, served onsilver spits. These included fowls, partridges, duck, and, chiefof all, a great swan, that the tenants greeted by knocking theirhorn mugs upon the table; after which came the pastries, and withthem nuts and apples. For drink, ale was served at the lowertable. On the dais however, they drank some of the black winewhich Wulf had bought--that is, except Sir Andrew and Rosamund,the former because he dared not, and the latter because she hadalways hated any drink but water--a dislike that came to her,doubtless, with her Eastern blood.
Thus they grew merry since their guest proved himself a cheerfulfellow, who told them many stories of love and war, for he seemedto know much of loves, and to have been in sundry wars. At theseeven Sir Andrew, forgetting his ailments and forebodings, laughedwell, while Rosamund, looking more beautiful than ever in thegold-starred veil and the broidered tunic which the brethren hadgiven her, listened to them, smiling somewhat absently. At lastthe feast drew towards its end, when suddenly, as though struckby a sudden recollection, Georgios exclaimed:
"The wine! The liquid amber from Trooidos! I had forgotten it.Noble knight, have I your leave to draw?"
"Ay, excellent merchant," answered Sir Andrew. "Certainly you candraw your own wine."
So Georgios rose, and took a large jug and a silver tankard fromthe sideboard where such things were displayed. With these hewent to the little keg which, it will be remembered, had beenstood ready upon the trestles, and, bending over it while he drewthe spigots, filled the vessels to the brim. Then he beckoned toa reeve sitting at the lower table to bring him a leather jackthat stood upon the board. Having rinsed it out with wine, hefilled that also, handing it with the jug to the reeve to drinktheir lord's health on this Yule night. The silver vessel he boreback to the high table, and with his own hand filled the horncups of all present, Rosamund alone excepted, for she would touchnone, although he pressed her hard and looked vexed at herrefusal. Indeed, it was because it seemed to pain the man thatSir Andrew, ever courteous, took a little himself, although, whenhis back was turned, he filled the goblet up with water. Atlength, when all was ready, Georgios charged, or seemed tocharge, his own horn, and, lifting it, said:
"Let us drink, everyone of us here, to the noble knight, SirAndrew D'Arcy, to whom I wish, in the phrase of my own people,that he may live for ever. Drink, friends, drink deep, for neverwill wine such as this pass your lips again."
Then, lifting his beaker, he appeared to drain it in greatgulps--an example which all followed, even Sir Andrew drinking alittle from his cup, which was three parts filled with water.There followed a long murmur of satisfaction.
"Wine! It is nectar!" said Wulf.
"Ay," put in the chaplain, Matthew; "Adam might have drunk thisin the Garden," while from the lower table came jovial shouts ofpraise of this smooth, creamlike vintage.
Certainly that wine was both rich and strong. Thus, after his supof it, a veil as it were seemed to fall on the mind of Sir Andrewand to cover it up. It lifted again, and lo! his brain was fullof memories and foresights. Circumstances which he had forgottenfor many years came back to him altogether, like a crowd ofchildren tumbling out to play. These passed, and he grew suddenlyafraid. Yet what had he to fear that night? The gates across themoat were locked and guarded. Trusty men, a score or more ofthem, ate in his outbuildings within those gates; while others,still more trusted, sat in his hall; and on his right hand and onhis left were those two strong and valiant knights, Sir Godwinand Sir Wulf. No, there was nothing to fear--and yet he feltafraid. Suddenly he heard a voice speak. It was Rosamund's; andshe said:
"Why is there such silence, father? A while ago I heard theservants and bondsmen carousing in the barn; now they are stillas death. Oh, and look! Are all here drunken? Godwin--"
But as she spoke Godwin's head fell forward on the board, whileWulf rose, half drew his sword, then threw his arm about the neckof the priest, and sank with him to the ground. As it was withthese, so it seemed with all, for folk rocked to and fro, thensank to sleep, everyone of them, save the merchant Georgios, whorose to call another toast.
"Stranger," said Sir Andrew, in a heavy voice, "your wine is verystrong."
"It would seem so, Sir Knight," he answered; "but I will wake themfrom their wassail." Springing from the dais lightly as a cat, heran down the hall crying, "Air is what they need. Air!" Nowcoming to the door, he threw it wide open, and drawing a silverwhistle from his robe, blew it long and loud. "What," he laughed,"do they still sleep? Why, then, I must give a toast that willrouse them all," and seizing a horn mug, he waved it andshouted:
"Arouse you, ye drunkards, and drink to the lady Rose of theWorld, princess of Baalbec, and niece to my royal master, YusufSalah-ed-din, who sends me to lead her to him!"
"Oh, father," shrieked Rosamund, "the wine was drugged and we arebetrayed!"
As the words passed her lips there rose a sound of running feet,and through the open door at the far end of the hall burst in ascore or over of armed men. Then at last Sir Andrew saw andunderstood.
With a roar of rage like that of a wounded lion, he seized hisdaughter and dragged her back with him down the passage into thesolar where a fire burned and lights had been lit ready for theirretiring, flinging to and bolting the door behind them.
"Swift!" he said, as he tore his gown from him, "there is noescape, but at leas
t I can die fighting for you. Give me mymail."
She snatched his hauberk from the wall, and while they thunderedat the door, did it on to him--ay, and his steel helm also, andgave him his long sword and his shield.
"Now," he said, "help me." And they thrust the oak table forward,and overset it in front of the door, throwing the chairs andstools on either side, that men might stumble on them.
"There is a bow," he said, "and you can use it as I have taughtyou. Get to one side and out of reach of the sword sweeps, andshoot past me as they rush; it may stay one of them. Oh, thatGodwin and Wulf were here, and we would still teach these Paynimdogs a lesson!"
Rosamund made no answer but there came into her mind a vision ofthe agony of Godwin and of Wulf should they ever wake again tolearn what had chanced to her and them. She looked round. Againstthe wall stood a little desk, at which Godwin was wont to write,and on it lay pen and parchment. She seized them, and as the doorgave slowly inwards, scrawled:
"Follow me to Saladin. In that hope I live on.--Rosamund."
Then as the stout door at length crashed in Rosamund turned whatshe had written face downwards on the desk, and seizing the bow,set an arrow to its string. Now it was down and on rushed the mobup the six feet of narrow passage. At the end of it, in front ofthe overturned table, they halted suddenly. For there beforethem, skull-emblazoned, shield on arm, his long sword lifted, anda terrible wrath burning in his eyes, stood the old knight, likea wolf at bay, and by his side, bow in hand, the beauteous ladyRosamund, clad in all her festal broideries.
"Yield you!" cried a voice. By way of answer the bowstringtwanged, and an arrow sped home to its feathers through thethroat of the speaker, so that he went down, grabbing at it, andspoke no more for ever.
As he fell clattering to the floor, Sir Andrew cried in a greatvoice:
"We yield not to pagan dogs and poisoners. A D'Arcy! A D'Arcy!Meet D'Arcy, meet Death!"
Thus for the last time did old Sir Andrew utter the warcry of hisrace, which he had feared would never pass his lips again. Hisprayer had been heard, and he was to die as he had desired.
"Down with him! seize the Princess!" said a voice. It was that ofGeorgios, no longer humble with a merchant's obsequious whine,but speaking in tones of cold command and in Arabic. For a momentthe swarthy mob hung back, as well they might in face of thatglittering sword. Then with a cry of "Salah-ed-din!Salah-ed-din!" on they surged, with flashing spears andscimitars. The overthrown table was in front of them, and oneleapt upon its edge, but as he leapt, the old knight, all hisyears and sickness forgotten now, sprang forward and struckdownwards, so heavy a blow that in the darkling mouth of thepassage the sparks streamed out, and where the Saracen's head hadbeen, appeared his heels. Back Sir Andrew stepped again to winspace for his sword-play, while round the ends of the table broketwo fierce-faced men. At one of them Rosamund shot with her bow,and the arrow pierced his thigh, but as he fell he struck withhis keen scimitar and shore the end off the bow, so that it wasuseless. The second man caught his foot in the bar of the oakchair which he did not see, and went down prone, while SirAndrew, taking no heed of him, rushed with a shout at the crowdwho followed, and catching their blows upon his shield, raineddown others so desperate that, being hampered by their verynumber, they gave before him, and staggered back along thepassage.
"Guard your right, father!" cried Rosamund. He sprang round, tosee the Saracen, who had fallen, on his feet again. At him hewent, nor did the man wait the onset, but turned to fly, only tofind his death, for the great sword caught him between neck andshoulders. Now a voice cried: "We make poor sport with this oldlion, and lose men. Keep clear of his claws, and whelm him withspear casts."
But Rosamund, who understood their tongue, sprang in front ofhim, and answered in Arabic:
"Ay, through my breast; and go, tell that tale to Saladin!"
Then, clear and calm was heard the command of Georgios. "He whoharms a hair of the Princess dies. Take them both living if youmay, but lay no hand on her. Stay, let us talk."
So they ceased from their onslaught and began to consulttogether.
Rosamund touched her father and pointed to the man who lay uponthe floor with an arrow through his thigh. He was struggling tohis knee, raising the heavy scimitar in his hand. Sir Andrewlifted his sword as a husbandman lifts a stick to kill a rat,then let it fall again, saying:
"I fight not with the wounded. Drop that steel, and get you backto your own folk."
The fellow obeyed him--yes, and even touched the floor with hisforehead in salaam as he crawled away, for he knew that he hadbeen given his life, and that the deed was noble towards him whohad planned a coward's stroke. Then Georgios stepped forward, nolonger the same Georgios who had sold poisoned wine and Easternbroideries, but a proud-looking, high-browed Saracen clad in themail which he wore beneath his merchant's robe, and in place ofthe crucifix wearing on his breast a great star-shaped jewel, theemblem of his house and rank.
"Sir Andrew," he said, "hearken to me, I pray you. Noble was thatact," and he pointed to the wounded man being dragged away by hisfellows, "and noble has been your defence--well worthy of yourlineage and your knighthood. It is a tale that my master," and hebowed as he said the word, "will love to hear if it pleases Allahthat we return to him in safety. Also you will think that I haveplayed a knave's trick upon you, overcoming the might of thosegallant knights, Sir Godwin and Sir Wulf, not with sword blowsbut with drugged wine, and treating all your servants in likefashion, since not one of them can shake off its fumes beforeto-morrow's light. So indeed it is--a very scurvy trick which Ishall remember with shame to my life's end, and that perchancemay yet fall back upon my head in blood and vengeance. Yetbethink you how we stand, and forgive us. We are but a littlecompany of men in your great country, hidden, as it were, in aden of lions, who, if they saw us, would slay us without mercy.That, indeed, is a small thing, for what are our lives, of whichyour sword has taken tithe, and not only yours, but those of thetwin brethren on the quay by the water?"
"I thought it," broke in Sir Andrew contemptuously. "Indeed, thatdeed was worthy of you--twenty or more men against two."
Georgios held up his hand.
"Judge us not harshly," he said, speaking slowly, who, for hisown ends wished to gain time, "you who have read the letter ofour lord. See you, these were my commands: To secure the ladyRose of the World as best I might, but if possible withoutbloodshed. Now I was reconnoitring the country with a troop ofthe sailors from my ship who are but poor fighters, and a few ofmy own people, when my spies brought me word that she had riddenout attended by only two men, and surely I thought that alreadyshe was in my hands. But the knights foiled me by strategy andstrength, and you know the end of it. So afterwards my messengerpresented the letter, which, indeed, should have been done atfirst. The letter failed also, for neither you, nor thePrincess"--and he bowed to Rosamund--"could be bought. More, thewhole country was awakened; you were surrounded with armed men,the knightly brethren kept watch and ward over you, and you wereabout to fly to London, where it would have been hard to snareyou. Therefore, because I must, I--who am a prince and an emir,who also, although you remember it not, have crossed swords withyou in my youth; yes, at Harenc--became a dealer in druggedwine.
"Now hearken. Yield you, Sir Andrew, who have done enough to makeyour name a song for generations, and accept the love ofSalah-ed-din, whose word you have, the word that, as you knowwell, cannot be broken, which I, the lord El-Hassan--for nomeaner man has been sent upon this errand--plight to you afresh.Yield you, and save your life, and live on in honour, clingingto your own faith, till Azrael takes you from the pleasant fieldsof Baalbec to the waters of Paradise--if such there be forinfidels, however gallant.
"For know, this deed must be done. Did we return without theprincess Rose of the World, we should die, every one of us, anddid we offer her harm or insult, then more horribly than I cantell you. This is no fancy of a great king that drives him on tothe stealing of a woman, although she be of his ow
n high blood.The voice of God has spoken to Salah-ed-din by the mouth of hisangel Sleep. Thrice has Allah spoken in dreams, telling him whois merciful, that through your daughter and her nobleness alonecan countless lives be saved; therefore, sooner than she shouldescape him, he would lose even the half of all his empire. Outwitus, defeat us now, capture us, cause us to be tortured anddestroyed, and other messengers would come to do his bidding--indeed, they are already on the way. Moreover, it is useless toshed more blood, seeing it is written in the Books that thislady, Rose of the World, must return to the East where she wasbegot, there to fulfil her destiny and save the lives of men."
"Then, emir El-Hassan, I shall return as a spirit," said Rosamundproudly.
"Not so, Princess," he answered, bowing, "for Allah alone haspower over your life, and it is otherwise decreed. Sir Andrew,the time grows short, and I must fulfil my mission. Will you takethe peace of Salah-ed-din, or force his servants to take yourlife?"
The old knight listened, resting on his reddened sword; then helifted his head, and spoke:
"I am aged and near my death, wine-seller Georgios, or princeEl-Hassan, whichever you may be. In my youth I swore to make nopact with Paynims, and in my eld I will not break that vow. WhileI can lift sword I will defend my daughter, even against themight of Saladin. Get to your coward's work again, and let thingsgo as God has willed them."
"Then, Princess," answered El-Hassan, "bear me witness throughoutthe East that I am innocent of your father's blood. On his ownhead be it, and on yours," and for the second time he blew uponthe whistle that hung around his neck.
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