CHAPTER III.
THE GUERDON OF GOOD SERVICE.
"'Twere better to die free, than live a slave."
EURIPIDES.
It was fortunate, for all concerned, that no long time elapsed beforemore efficient aid came on the ground, than the gentleman who firstreached the spot, and who, although a member of that dauntlesschivalry, trained from their cradles to endure hardship, to despisedanger, and to look death steadfastly and unmoved in the face, was soutterly paralyzed by what he deemed, not unnaturally, the death of hisdarling, that he made no effort to relieve her from the weight of theslaughtered animal, though it rested partially on her lower limbs, andon one arm, which lay extended, nevertheless, as it had fallen, in thedust. But up came, in an instant, Philip de Morville, on his superb,snow-white Andalusian, a Norman baron to the life--tall, powerful,thin-flanked, deep-chested, with the high aquiline features and darkchestnut hair of his race, nor less with its dauntless valor, gravecourtesy, and heart as impassive to fear or tenderness or pity, as hisown steel hauberk. Up came esquires and pages, foresters and grooms,and springing tumultuously to the ground, under the short, promptorders of their lord, raised the dead palfrey bodily up, while SirPhilip drew the fair girl gently from under it, and raising her in hisarms more tenderly than he had ever been known to entreat any thing,unless it were his favorite falcon, laid her on the short, softgreensward, under the shadow of one of the huge, broad-headed oaks bythe wayside.
"Cheer thee, my noble lord and brother," he exclaimed, "the LadyGuendolen is not dead, nor like to die this time. 'Tis only fear, andperchance her fall, for it was a heavy one, that hath made her faint.Bustle, knaves, bustle. Bring water from the spring yonder. Has no onea leathern bottiau? You, Damian, gallop, as if you would win yourspurs of gold by riding, to the sumpter mule with the panniers. Itshould be at the palmer's spring by this time; for, hark, the bellsfrom the gray brothers' chapel, in the valley by the river, arechiming for the noontide service. Bring wine and essences, electuariesand ambergris, if the refectioner have any with him. You, Raoul," hecontinued, addressing a sturdy, grim-featured old verdurer, who washanging over the still senseless girl with an expression of solicitudehardly natural to his rugged and scar-seamed countenance, "take a ledhorse, and hie thee to the abbey; tell the good prior what hathbefallen, and pray the brother mediciner he will ride this way, asspeedily as he may; and you," turning to the old, white-hairedseneschal, "send up some of the varlets to the castle, for thehorse-litter; she may not ride home this day."
In the mean time, while he was accumulating order on order, whilepages and horse-boys, grooms and esquires, were galloping off, indifferent directions, as if with spurs of fire, and while the baronsthemselves were awkwardly endeavoring to perform those ministrationsfor the fair young creature, which they were much more used themselvesto receive at the hands of the softer sex, who were in those rude daysoften the chirurgeons and leeches, as well as the comforters andsoothers of the bed of pain and sickness, than to do such offices forothers, the bold defender of Guendolen--Kenric the dark-haired--lay inhis blood, stark and cold, deemed dead, and quite forgotten, even bythe lowest of the Norman varletry, who held themselves too noble towaste services upon a Saxon, much more upon a thral and bondsman.
They--such of them, that is to say, as were not needed in directattendance on the persons of the nobles, or as had not been dispatchedin search of aid--applied themselves, with characteristic zeal andeagerness, to tend and succor the nobler animals, as they held them,of the chase; while they abandoned their brother man andfellow-countryman, military Levites as they were, to his chances oflife or death, without so much as even caring to ask or examinewhether he were numbered with the living or the dead.
The palfrey was first seen to, and pronounced dead; when his richhousings were stripped off carefully, and cleaned as well as time andplace permitted; when the carcass was dragged off the road, andconcealed, for the moment, with fern leaves and boughs lopped from theneighboring bushes, while something was said among the stable boys ofsending out some of the "dog Saxon serfs" to bury him on the morrow.
The deer was then dragged roughly whence it lay, across the breast ofKenric, in whose left shoulder one of its terrible brow antlers hadmade a deep gash, while his right arm was badly shattered by a blow ofits sharp hoofs. So careless were the men of inflicting pain on theliving, or dishonor on the dead, that one of them, in removing thequarry, set his booted foot square on the Saxon's chest, and forced,by the joint effect of the pressure and the pain, a stifled, chokingsound, half involuntary, half a groan, from the pale lips of themotionless sufferer. With a curse, and a slight, contemptuous kick,the Norman groom turned away, with his antlered burthen, muttering aribald jest on "the death-grunt of the Saxon boar;" and drawing hiskeen wood-knife, was soon deep in the mysteries of the _curee_,and deeper yet in blood and grease, prating of "nombles, briskets,flankards, and raven-bones," then the usual terms of the art ofhunting, or butchery, whichever the reader chooses to call it, whichare now probably antiquated. The head was cabbaged, as it was called,and, with the entrails, given as a reward to the fierce hounds, whichglared with ravenous eyes on the gory carcass. Even its peculiarmorsel was chucked to the attendant raven, the black bird of St.Hubert, which--free from any apprehension of the gentle hunters, whoaffected to treat him with respectful and reverential awe--sat on thestag-horned peak of an aged oak-tree, awaiting his accustomed portion,with an observant eye and an occasional croak. By-and-by, when thesumpter mule came up, with kegs of ale and bottiaus of mead andhypocras, and wine of Gascony and Anjou, before even the riders'throats were slaked by the generous liquor, the bridle-bits andcavessons, nose-bags and martingales of the coursers were removed, andliberal drenches were bestowed on them, partly in guerdon of pastservices, partly in order to renew their strength and stimulate theirvaliant ardor.
Long ere this, however, fanned by two or three pages with fans of fernwreaths, and sprinkled with cold spring-water by the hands of hersolicitous kinsman, the young girl had given symptoms of returninglife, and a brighter expression returned to the dark, melancholyvisage of her father.
Two or three long, faint, fluttering sighs came from her parted lips;and then, regular, though low and feeble, her breathing made itselfheard, and her girlish bosom rose and fell responsive.
Her father, who had been chafing her hands assiduously, pressed one ofthem caressingly, at this show of returning animation, and raised itto his lips; when, awakening at the accustomed tenderness, her languideyes opened, a faint light of intelligence shone forth from them, apale glow of hectic color played over her face, and a smile glitteredfor a second on her quivering lips.
"Dear father," she whispered, faintly; but, the next moment, anexpression of fear was visible in all her features, and a palpableshiver shook all her frame. "The stag!" she murmured; "the stag! saveme, save"--and before the word, uttered simultaneously by the twolords--"He is dead, dear one," "He will harm no one any more"--hadreached her ears, she again relapsed into insensibility, while withequal care, but renewed hope, they tended and caressed her.
But Kenric no one tended, no one caressed, save, "faithful still,where all were faithless found," the brindled staghound, "Kilbuck,"who licked his face assiduously, with his grim, gory tongue and lips,and besmearing his face with blood and foam, rendered his aspect yetmore terrible and death-like.
But now the returning messengers began to ride in, fast and frequent;first, old Raoul, the huntsman, surest, although not fleetest, andwith him, shaking in his saddle, between the sense of peril and theperplexity occasioned him by the high, hard trot of the Normanwar-horse pressed into such unwonted service, "like a boar's head inaspick jelly," the brother mediciner from the neighboring convent,with his wallet of simples and instruments of chirurgery.
By his advice, the plentiful application of cold water, with essencesand stimulants in abundance, a generous draught of rich wine ofBurgundy, and, when animation seemed thoroughly revived, the gentlebreathing of a v
ein, soon restored the young lady to her perfectsenses and complete self-possession, though she was sorely bruised,and so severely shaken that it was enjoined on her to remain perfectlyquiet, where she lay, with a Lincoln-green furred hunting-cloak aroundher, until the arrival of the litter should furnish means of return tothe castle of her father's host and kinsman.
And, in good season, down the hill, slowly and toilsomely came thehorse-litter, poor substitute for a wheeled vehicle; but even thus thebest, if not only, conveyance yet adopted for the transport of thewounded, the feeble, or the luxurious, and, as such, used only by thewealthy and the noble.
With the litter came three or four women; one or two, Norman maidens,the immediate attendants of the Lady Guendolen, and the others, Saxonslave girls of the household of Sir Philip de Morville, who hurrieddown, eager to gain favor by show of zealous duty, or actuated bywoman's feelings for woman's suffering, even in different grades andstation.
The foremost of them all, bounding along with all the wild agility andfree natural gracefulness of wood-nymph or bacchante, was a girl ofseventeen or eighteen, not above the middle height of her sex, butplump as a partridge, with limbs exquisitely formed and rounded, aprofusion of flaxen tresses floating unrestrained on the air, largedark-blue eyes, and a complexion all of milk and roses--the very typeof rural Saxon youth and beauty.
As she outstripped all the rest in speed, she was the first to tendergentle service to the Lady Guendolen, who received her with a smile,calling her "Edith the Fair," and thanking her for her ready aid.
But, ere long, as the courtlier maidens arrived on the ground, poorEdith was set aside, as is too often the case with humble merit, whilethe others lifted the lady into the horse-litter, covered her withlight and perfumed garlands, and soon had all ready for her departure.
But, in the mean time, Edith had turned a hasty glance around her; anddescrying the inanimate body of the Saxon serf, lying alone anduntended, moved by the gentle sympathy of woman for the humblestunknown sufferer, she hastened to assist, if assistance were stillpossible. But, as she recognized the limbs, stately, though cold andstill, and the features, still noble through gore and defilement, aswift horror smote her, that she shook like a leaf, and fell, with awild, thrilling shriek, "O, Kenric, Kenric!" on the body of thewounded man.
"Ha! what is this?" cried Sir Philip, who now first saw or rememberedwhat had passed. "How is this? Knaves, is there a man hurt here?"
"A Saxon churl, Beausire," replied one of the pages, flippantly, "whohas gotten his brisket unseamed by his brother Saxon yonder!" and hepointed to the dead carcass of the stag.
"Our lady save us," murmured the gentle Guendolen, who seemed about torelapse into insensibility; "he saved my life, and have ye let himperish?"
"Now, by the splendor of our lady's eyes!" cried Yvo de Taillebois,the father of the fair young lady, "this is the gallant lad we sawafar, in such bold hand-to-hand encounter with yon mad brute. We havebeen ingrately, shamefully remiss. This must be amended, Philip deMorville."
"It shall, it shall, my noble friend," cried Philip; "and ye, dogs,that have let the man perish untended thus, for doing of his devoirbetter than all the best of ye, bestir yourselves. If the man die, asit seems like enow, ye shall learn ere ye are one day older, whatpleasant bed-rooms are the vaults of Waltheofstow, and how tastes thewater of the moat."
Meantime the monk trotted up, and, after brief examination, announcedthat, though badly hurt, his life was in no immediate peril, and sethimself at once to comfort and revive him.
"He is not slain; he will not die, my child," said Sir Yvo, softly,bending over the litter to his pale lily, who smiled faintly as shewhispered in reply--
"Dear father, nor be a slave any longer?"
"Not if I may redeem him," he answered; "but I will speak with SirPhilip at once. Meanwhile be tranquil, and let them convey youhomeward. Forward, there, with the litter--gently, forward!"
And, therewith, he turned and spoke eagerly to De Morville, wholistened with a grave brow, and answered;
"If it may be, my noble friend and brother. If it may be. But thereare difficulties. Natheless, on my life, I desire to pleasure you."
"Nay! it comports not with our name or station, that the nobleGuendolen de Taillebois should owe life to a collared thral--a merebrute animal. My lord, your word on it! He must be _free_, sinceYvo de Taillebois is his debtor."
"My word _is_ pledged on it," replied De Morville. "If it can beat all, it _shall_ be. Nay, look not so black on it. It shall be.We will speak farther of it at the castle! And now, lo! how he opeshis eyes and stares. He will be right, anon; and ye, knaves, bear himto the castle, when the good brother bids ye, and gently, if ye wouldescape a reckoning with me. And now, good friends, to horse! to horse!The litter is half-way to the castle gates already. To horse! tohorse! and God send us no more such sorry huntings."
Wager of Battle: A Tale of Saxon Slavery in Sherwood Forest Page 5