by G. A. Henty
That evening Oswald bought a supply of bread and meat, sufficient to last Roger and himself for three days. This was divided in halves and placed in bags, which would be slung over their shoulders. The horses had already been sent up to the castle and, after sleeping for a few hours, the two left the town and, turning to the right, ascended the hill.
Oswald carried his sword and dagger. Roger, in addition to these, had a heavy oaken quarterstaff.
“This,” he said, “may be of service in mountain work, and may suffice to crack the skulls of any half-dozen Welshmen we may fall in with.”
Both had put on plain leather jerkins and cloth caps, and wore, underneath, their own suits with the Percy cognizance embroidered on them, in order that they might present themselves in proper attire, should they arrive at the king’s camp. The weather was already becoming cold, and the double suit was therefore not uncomfortable. As the dress of the Welsh, in the towns and valleys, was very similar to that worn by English villagers; they would attract but little attention, should they have cause to take to the road, for any short distance.
Keeping within the edge of the belt of trees, they followed the valley down past the ruins of Montgomery, and passed Newtown without entering it. Many times during the morning they heard loud shouts, from the woods in which they were, answered by similar cries from the other side of the valley; and were obliged to move with great caution, for it was evident that a considerable number of Welsh were in ambush in the woods, in readiness to attack any party who might be proceeding up or down the valley.
Towards noon, they were obliged to leave the edge of the forest, and to ascend to the brow of the hills; as it was certain that any parties of the enemy, who might be in the forest, would be assembled near its edge, in readiness to pour suddenly down.
More than once they heard voices, but a short distance away; and paused, for a time, to allow parties of men to cross ahead of them. Their greatest danger lay in crossing the side valleys, but as the Welsh would be expecting no one to come down these, they succeeded in crossing without being observed.
They were well content when, just as night was falling, they came down upon Llanidloes. Crossing the wooden bridge over the stream, they entered the town boldly; for, looking down upon it, they had seen many men in armour in the streets, and knew that the place was occupied by the English.
At the gate at the end of the bridge they were asked their business, but they replied that they could only answer that to the officer commanding, and were taken before him.
“Whence come you, friends?” the latter said. “Surely you must be English, by your height; but what you are doing here, in times like the present, I know not. Come you from the king’s army, or from the north?”
“We left Welshpool before daybreak,” Oswald said, “and have travelled through the forest.”
“Then you must be as bold as you are tall, sirs, for the woods are full of these wild Welsh.”
“Of that we are aware, sir, and we had some difficulty in making our way through them, unobserved. I would not answer the guard, when we entered; for we are going farther, and had it been mentioned, in the hearing of a Welshman, news might have been sent on ahead.”
“I think not that you can reach the king. When we last heard, his foremost divisions were marching forward, and devastating the country on both sides of their line of march. We have heard reports that some of the parties have been attacked, and well-nigh destroyed; and certain it is that Glendower’s men are scattered all over the country.
“We were three days without news, but this morning a strong party came, in escorting sick and wounded. They had to fight hard, but beat off their opponents, and got in with the loss of a third of their number. They had started at night, and fortunately arrived within five miles of here, before they were attacked.”
“And where is the king now, sir?”
“The king himself is at Capel Bangor, and the army lies between that place and Yspetty Cynfyn.”
“Then ’tis but a day’s march from here!”
“It would be but a short day’s march, could you follow the road; but it would be impossible to do so, for ’tis beset everywhere, and ’tis so rough and hilly that, in places, the men-at-arms had to dismount. You will have to wait here till a large force sets out, with provisions; for those who came in declare that they will not attempt to return, so great is the number of Welshmen along there, and so fierce and reckless are they.
“But you have not yet told me who you are, and why you would push on to the army thus rashly.”
Oswald opened his jerkin, and showed the handsome attire beneath it, embroidered with the Percy cognizance.
“I am an esquire of Sir Henry Percy,” he said, “and have been staying for a while with Sir Edmund Mortimer, whose sister is my lord’s wife. A royal messenger arrived at Ludlow, with a letter for the king; and as there was no other way of bringing it forward, I volunteered to carry it, with my man-at-arms, here.”
“It was a brave offer, young sir, but I fear that you will scarce be able to carry it into effect. The men who came here report that it is unsafe to stir a yard from the camp; for those who wander away, for however short a distance, are sure to be slain by the lurking Welshmen. No resistance is offered when strong parties go out, but less than two hundred men-at-arms cannot hope to move, unattacked.”
“’Tis for that reason that I have come on foot,” Oswald said. “I saw that it would be hopeless for two horsemen to get through, but on foot we may travel through the woods without being discovered; while if we are seen, methinks it would need speedy feet to catch us.”
“Well, since you bear a royal letter I cannot stop you; but it seems to me that your chance of getting through is small, indeed.”
CHAPTER 17
Knighted
Rain was coming down in torrents, when Oswald and Roger started the next morning. On leaving the town they turned to the left, with the intention of making a considerable detour; keeping well away from the road, as it was near this that the Welsh would be most likely watching. They chose this side because, to the right of the road, the country was more broken, rising swell after swell towards Plinlimmon; and it was likely that the largest portion of the Welsh would be on that side, so that they could, at any time, retire to their fastnesses.
They were soon in the woods. The streams they met with were turbid, and full to the brim.
“We shall have trouble with this water, Roger,” Oswald said, as they waded across one, waist deep. “This is but a little stream, but if there are larger ones, as is like enough, we shall have to swim before we are done. There is one advantage; in such weather as this, even the Welsh will scarce be active.”
“They have not got much clothing to wet,” Roger said. “Their dress is better suited than ours for such weather.”
The way was a rough one. Hills, although of no great height, had to be crossed, and many streams to be waded. Fortunately, they met with few larger than that they had first crossed; for the water from that side of the hills made its way, for the most part, direct into the Severn; while that which came down from the slopes of Plinlimmon, towards the road, fell into a stream; dry in fine weather, but now a raging torrent, which ran past Llandulas and into the Severn, at Llanidloes.
“Do you think that we are going right, Roger?” Oswald said, after they had been walking for six or seven hours; “for, what with these ups and downs, and turnings and windings, there is no saying which is east and which is west. If the sun were shining we should be sure of our direction, but with these dull leaden clouds there is no saying.”
“I have no idea, master. If we were out on a moor we should be able to judge, and to make a fairly straight course, keeping the wind and rain on one side of us; but in this thick forest, though most of the leaves have fallen, those that remain on the branches break up the rain, and it seems to come straight down upon us.”
Presently they came to another watercourse.
“Why, Rog
er, the water is going in the other direction!”
“So it is, master. How can that be?”
“It is just possible that we have crossed some dividing point, and the water is making its way towards the south, and will fall into some other river; but I am very much afraid that the real explanation is, that we have entirely lost our way, and are going in the opposite direction to that in which we started. The question is, shall we cross it or shall we follow it down?”
“Just as you like,” Roger said. “For myself, I think that the best way would be to find some place where we could shelter. Tomorrow the sun may be out again, and that will tell us which way to go. If we start at daybreak, and keep it to our back, we can’t go far wrong.”
“Except that we may pass the army altogether, Roger. They told us that the rearmost division was not more than ten miles ahead.”
“We must have walked double that already, I should say, master.”
“Not so much as that. We have been a long time over it, but it is slow travelling over this broken ground, and thick wood. I am sure I hope that we have not gone twenty miles, or anything like it; for in that case, if we have been keeping fairly in the right direction, we must have passed the army. If we have been going in the wrong direction, there is no saying where we may be.
“Still, I think that your suggestion is a good one. It is of no use our going on, when we may be getting farther away at every step. It is lucky that we bought these thick cloaks, at Welshpool; for without them we should have been soaked to the skin, hours ago.”
“Well, as we have been wetted to the waist a score of times, in the streams, I don’t see that it would have mattered much, if the rest of us had been wet through.”
“Well, now let us look for a shelter.”
After searching for half an hour, they found a spot where a wall of shaly rock barred their way. At one spot some of this had fallen in, forming a sort of shallow cave, some three feet deep.
“This is not a bad beginning, Roger, but we must try and make it a great deal more snug.”
They first cut down some young fir poles, and placed them so as to form a sort of penthouse against the wall. On these they piled a number of branches, of the same trees, until it was over a foot in thickness.
“So far, so good,” Oswald said. “Now, Roger, look about for a fallen tree. We have passed scores on our way. You must get a thoroughly rotten one, and cut away a portion of the under side; it will be dry enough, there.”
“You might get a little of that to start with,” Roger said; “but the ground is covered everywhere with fir cones, and there is no better stuff for fires.”
Taking off his cloak he laid it down, and they both piled the fir cones on this, until a great heap was collected. This they carried into their shelter, through an opening they had left in the penthouse.
“We must have something dry to start it with. These cones are a great deal too wet to burn, without a good heat to start them. There is nothing better than the fir needles, master, if we can find some dry ones.”
After some searching, a considerable number of these needles were collected; some lying under fallen trees, and others swept by the wind into rocky corners, where the rain had not reached them.
“Now I think that we shall do, Roger.”
As soon as they were inside, Roger produced a large lump of dry fungus he had found, on the other side of the Severn; and, by the aid of his flint and steel, soon succeeded in striking sparks upon it. As soon as these began to spread, he put a little pile of fir needles on it; and, blowing gently, bright flames soon darted up. A few more handfuls of fuel were added, and fir cones placed at the top; and in a quarter of an hour, a clear, bright fire was burning.
The dripping cloaks were hung up to the fir poles, to dry; and the jerkins, which were also damp, although the water had not penetrated through them, were spread near the fire.
“It was well that I bought this little skin of wine, last night,” Roger said. “You thought it was better to be without such a burden, but the weight of a gallon of wine doesn’t count for much, and it makes all the difference in our comfort, here.”
The rain had soaked through their provision bags, but the bread and meat in the centre were dry; and of these they made a hearty meal and, laying the wetted food round the fire to dry, they wound up the repast with a long draught of wine.
“Now, as soon as our breeches are dry, Master Oswald, we shall be thoroughly comfortable.”
“Yes, one can wish for nothing better. But we must not forget that some Welshmen may come along, and if so, will be sure to want to know what is inside.”
“Then, unless there happen to be more than a dozen of them, their curiosity may cost them dear,” Roger said grimly. “I don’t think there is much fear of it. We have neither seen nor heard of any, since we started; and it would be evil fortune, indeed, if a party happened to come along just at this spot.”
“The fact that we have heard no one is a bad sign, Roger; for it would seem to show that we must have gone a long way out of our course.”
The rain continued to fall heavily, all that afternoon and throughout the night, and no change of the weather was discernible the next morning.
“We had best stop here for another day, Roger, unless the sky clears; we are not likely to find so good a place for shelter, and it is of no use to wander about, when every step may be taking us farther away. However, we can climb up to the top of this hill, at whose foot we are, and endeavour to get a view over the country.”
Roger shook his head.
“In this heavy mist we should not see a quarter of a mile away. We have got all our clothes dry, now, and it would be a pity to get them wet again, without need or profit. Anyhow, we will find some more of those fir cones. Our supply is nearly gone.”
In half an hour they had got sufficient to last them all day. There was nothing for them then to do but sleep, one or other keeping watch, so as to prevent the chance of their being surprised.
Before lying down for the night, Roger looked out.
“Methinks that the rain has stopped, though it would be difficult to say, for the drops keep pattering down from the trees. Well, I mightily hope that it will be a fine morning.”
Oswald was first upon his feet and, on going out, uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. The morning was breaking and, though light clouds were moving across the sky, glimpses of the blue were visible, here and there. Already the light showed where the sun would presently rise.
Food was hastily eaten, and they then started on their way again. There could be no mistake, now, as to the general direction; and, keeping the sun on their right hand, they made their way north. From the top of a hill, somewhat higher than the others, they caught a view of Plinlimmon.
“If we make straight for it,” Oswald said, “we ought to come down on the road near the camp. We can go on fearlessly for some time, for the Welsh were hardly likely to be moving about, yesterday or the day before; and I have no doubt they sheltered themselves, as best they could, in arbours like ours.”
After walking for another two hours, they heard the distant sound of a trumpet.
“That cannot be more than two or three miles away, Roger. Now, we shall have to be careful.”
They had walked a mile when, as they descended into a glen, they came suddenly on a party of twenty Welshmen, sitting round a fire. These had been concealed from them by the thick undergrowth, and were not twenty yards away, when they first saw them. The Welsh had evidently heard them coming, by the rustle of leaves and the breaking of twigs; and two or three were standing up, looking in their direction, when they caught sight of them. These gave a loud yell, which brought the rest to their feet.
“Run, Roger, run. It is a question of legs, now;” and, turning, they darted up the hill they had just descended.
Looking back for a moment as, after running for about a mile, they reached the crest of a swell; Oswald saw that five of their pursuers had distanced their
comrades, but were no nearer than when they started.
“I think we can hold them, Roger. Take it a little more easily now. We are all right as far as speed goes. It is simply a question of bottom.”
Their pursuers, however, still stuck to them and, after running for another half-mile, the five men were still but some thirty yards behind; while their comrades’ shouts could be heard through the forests and, from time to time, the men close behind them joined in a loud quavering cry.
“We must stand and rid ourselves of these fellows, Roger; or we shall have half the Welsh nation down on us.”
“So I have been thinking, for some time.”
“Don’t stop suddenly. We will slacken our pace, and they will think that our strength is failing, and will redouble their efforts. Then, when they are close to us, we will turn suddenly.”
They heard a yell of exultation, as their pursuers found that they were gaining upon them.
“Choose a clear space, Roger, with room to swing our weapons.”
The Welsh were running in a close body, but ten yards behind them, when they arrived at a spot clear of trees.
“Now, Roger!”
As he spoke, Oswald drew his sword and swung round, facing his pursuers, while Roger did the same. The Welsh, taken by surprise, endeavoured to check themselves; but before they could do so, Roger’s staff fell upon the head of one of them, while Oswald cleft another to the chin. With the quickness of an adroit player with the quarterstaff, Roger followed up his blow by almost instantaneously driving the other end of the staff, with all his force, against the chest of another, who was at the point of leaping upon him; and the man fell, as if struck with a thunderbolt. So swift had been the movements that the remaining two men were paralysed, by the sudden fall of their companions; but before they could turn to fly, the weapons descended again, with as fatal result as before.
“To the right!” Oswald exclaimed, and he dashed off into the forest again, at a right angle to the line that they had before taken. A minute later they heard an outburst of yells of fury, from the spot they had quitted.