by G. A. Henty
They had not much difficulty in obtaining food in the forest, for game abounded, and they could kill as many deer as seemed fit to them. As Cnut said, it was difficult to believe that they were not back again in the forest near Evesham, so similar was their life to that which they had led three years before. To Cnut and the archers, indeed, it was a pleasanter time than any which they had passed since they had left the shores of England, and they blithely marched along, fearing little any pursuit which might be set on foot, and, indeed, hearing nothing of their enemies. After six days’ travel they came upon a rude village, and here Cuthbert learned from the people—with much difficulty, however, and pantomime, for neither could understand a word spoken by the other—that they were now in one of the Swiss cantons, and therefore secure from all pursuit by the Germans. Without much difficulty Cuthbert engaged one of the young men of the village to act as their guide to Basle, and here, after four days’ traveling, they arrived safely. Asking for the residence of the burgomaster, Cuthbert at once proceeded thither, and stated that he was an English knight on the return from the Crusades; that he had been foully entreated by the Lord of Fussen, who had been killed in a fray by his followers; and that he besought hospitality and refuge from the authorities of Basle.
“We care little,” the burgomaster said, “what quarrel you may have had with your neighbors. All who come hither are free to come and go as they list, and you, as a knight on the return from the Holy Land, have a claim beyond that of an ordinary traveler.”
The burgomaster was himself able to speak French, and summoning several of the councilors of the town, he requested Cuthbert to give a narrative of his adventures; which he did. The councilors agreed with the burgomaster that Cuthbert must be received hospitably; but the latter saw that there was among many of them considerable doubt as to the expediency of quarreling with a powerful neighbor. He therefore said to the burgomaster:
“I have no intention, honorable sir, of taking up any prolonged residence here. I only ask to be furnished with a charger and arms, and in payment of these I will leave this gold chain, the gift of King Richard himself, as a gage, and will on my return to my country forward to you the value of the arms and horse, trusting that you will return the chain to me.”
The burgomaster, however, said that the city of Basle was not so poor that it need take the gage of an honorable knight, but that the arms and charger he required should be given him in a few hours, and that he might pay the value in London to a Jew merchant there who had relations with one at Basle. Full instructions were given to him, and he resolved to travel down upon the left bank of the Rhine, until he reached Lorraine, and thence to cross into Saxony. The same afternoon the promised horse and arms were provided, and Cuthbert, delighted again to be in harness, and thanking courteously the burgomaster and council for their kindness, started with his followers on his journey north. These latter had been provided with doublets and other garments suitable to the retinue of a knight, and made a better show than they had done since they first left England.
Leaving Basle, they traveled along the left side of the Rhine by easy stages. The country was much disturbed, owing to the return and disbandment of so many of the troops employed in the Crusades. These, their occupation being gone, scattered over the country, and France and Germany alike were harassed by bands of military robbers. The wild country between the borders of Switzerland and Lorraine was specially vexed, as the mountains of the Vosges afforded shelter, into which the freebooters could not be followed by the troops of the duke.
Upon the evening of the third day they reached a small inn standing in a lonely position near the foot of the mountains.
“I like not the look of this place,” Cuthbert said; “but as we hear that there is no other within a distance of another ten miles, we must e’en make the best of it.”
The host received them with extreme and even fawning civility, which by no means raised him in the estimation of Cuthbert or Cnut. A rough meal was taken, and they then ascended to the rude accommodation which had been provided. It was one large room barely furnished. Upon one side straw was thickly littered down—for in those days beds among the common people were unknown. In a sort of alcove at the end was a couch with a rough mattress and coverlet. This Cuthbert took possession of, while his followers stretched themselves upon the straw.
“Methinks,” Cnut said, “that it were well that one should keep watch at the door. I like not the look of our host, and we are near the spot where the bands of the robbers are said to be busy.”
Toward morning the archer on guard reported that he could hear the sound of many approaching footsteps. All at once sprang to their feet, and betook themselves to their arms. Looking from the window they saw a large party of rough men, whose appearance at once betokened that they were disbanded soldiers—a title almost synonymous in those days with that of robber. With the united strength of the party the truckle bed was carried from the alcove and placed against the door. Cuthbert then threw open the window, and asked in French what they wanted. One of the party, who appeared to be the leader, said that the party had better surrender immediately. He promised them good treatment, and said that the knight would be put to ransom, should it be found that the valuables upon his person were not sufficient to pay the worshipful company present for the trouble which they had taken in waiting upon him. This sally was received with shouts of laughter. Cuthbert replied quietly that he had no valuables upon his person; that if they took him there were none would pay as much as a silver mark for the ransom of them all; and that the only things that they had to give were sharp arrows and heavy blows.
“You talk bravely, young sir,” the man said. “But you have to do with men versed in fight, and caring but little either for knocks or for arrows. We have gone through the Crusades, and are therefore held to be absolved from all sin, even that so great as would be incurred in the cutting of your knightly throat.”
“But we have gone through the Crusades also,” Cuthbert said, “and our persons are sacred. The sin of slitting our weazands, which you speak of, would therefore be so great that even the absolution on which you rely would barely extend to it.”
“We know most of those who have served in the Holy Land,” the man said more respectfully than he had yet spoken, “and would fain know with whom we speak.”
“I am an Englishman, and a follower of King Richard,” Cuthbert said, “and am known as Sir Cuthbert of Evesham. As I was the youngest among the knights who fought for the holy sepulcher, it may be that my appearance is known to you?”
“Ah,” the other said, “you are he whom they called the Boy Knight, and who was often in the thick of the fray, near to Richard himself. How comes it, Sir Cuthbert, that you are here?”
“The fleet was scattered on its return,” Cuthbert replied, “and I landed with my followers, well-nigh penniless, at Zara, and have since made my way across the Tyrol. I have, then, as you may well suppose, neither silver nor gold about my person; and assuredly neither Philip of France nor John of Austria would give a noble for my ransom; and it would be long, methinks, to wait ere John of England would care to ransom one of King Richard’s followers.”
The brigands spoke for awhile among themselves, and then the leader said:
“You speak frankly and fairly, Sir Knight, and as you have proved yourself indeed a doughty giver of hard blows, and as I doubt not that the archers with you can shoot as straight and as fast as the rest of the Saxon breed, we will e’en let you go on your way, for your position is but little better than ours, and dog should not rob dog.”
“Thanks, good fellow,” Cuthbert said. “We trust that in any case we might have made a strong defense against you; but it would be hard if those who have fought together in the Holy Land should slay each other in this lonely corner of Lorraine.”
“Are you seeking adventures or employment, Sir Knight? For if so, myself and comrades here would gladly take service with you; and it may be that with a clump of spears
you might obtain engagement, either under the Duke of Lorraine or he of Cleves.”
“Thanks for your offer,” Cuthbert replied; “but at present my face is turned toward England. King Richard needs all his friends; and there is so little chance of sack or spoil, even should we have—which God forfend—civil war, that I fear I could ill reward the services which you offer me.”
The leader and his men shouted an adieu to Cuthbert and departed for the mountains, leaving the latter well pleased with his escape from a fight of which the result was doubtful.
Journeying on without further adventure, they came to Nancy, and were there kindly received by the duke, who was not at that time upon good terms with Philip of France, and was therefore well disposed toward the English. Cuthbert inquired from him whether any news had been heard of King Richard? but received as a reply that the duke had heard nothing of him since he sailed from Palestine.
“This is strange,” Cuthbert said, “for I myself have journeyed but slowly, and have met with many delays. King Richard should long ere this have reached Saxony; and I fear much that some foul treatment has befallen him. On our way we found how bitter was the feeling among those related to Conrad of Montferat against him; and the Archduke John is still smarting from the blow which King Richard struck him at Ascalon. But surely they would not be so unknightly as to hinder so great a champion of Christendom as King Richard on his homeward way?”
“The Archduke John is crafty and treacherous,” the duke said; “and the emperor himself would, I think, be not sorry to lay hand upon the King of England, were it only to do pleasure to Philip of France. Assuredly, however the anger and indignation of all Christendom will be aroused should the king’s passage be interrupted, for it were indeed a gross breach of hospitality to seize upon a man who has the double claim of being a champion of Christendom and a shipwrecked man. However, it is early yet to be uneasy, and it may be that in a few days we may have news of the arrival of the king in Saxony. He may have encountered difficulties similar to those which you yourself have met with. The country is everywhere disturbed, and it is not only in my forests that bands of outlawed men are to be met with. At present there is peace in Europe. It may last indeed but a short time. But so long as it continues, so long must the mountains and woods be full of desperate men. Were war declared between any two princes these would flock to the banners of him who would pay them highest, and a war which could end in the entire destruction of the armies of both combatants would be a blessing to Europe.”
After entertaining Cuthbert courteously for three days, the Duke of Lorraine bade him adieu, and gave him an escort of men-at-arms to the borders of the Rhine, where he would find the way open to the domains of the Duke of Saxony. Without adventure Cuthbert and his followers arrived at Dresden, and he immediately presented himself at the castle of the duke. The instant that he sent in his name as Sir Cuthbert of Evesham, a knight of King Richard, he was conducted to the presence of the duke and of his wife, the sister of King Richard.
“Are you bearer of news of my brother Richard?” the duke said, advancing a step to meet the young knight as he entered the hall.
“Alas! my lord duke, I am not,” Cuthbert said; “but had hoped to gain tidings from you.”
“From me?” the duke said in surprise. “What should lead you to believe that I have any news of King Richard later than that which others have received? The last I heard of him was upon the day of his departure from the Holy Land, before the storm arose which scattered his fleet, and I am ignorant whether he has foundered at sea, or whether, as some suppose, his vessel may have been taken captive by the Moors.”
“I bear you later tidings,” Cuthbert said, “than those you have received. I was on board the ship with King Richard. We were wrecked upon the Island of Corfu and there hiring a small ship, we proceeded to Zara. King Richard determined to make his way across the Tyrol to this place; but he thought that it would attract attention to him were he accompanied by so large a party. Therefore he, with Sir Baldwin of Béthune, and a few followers, started north, while I with my men kept west through the north of Italy, and then crossed by the pass over Trent.”
“How long is it since you left my brother?” the duchess asked anxiously.
“It is now over a month since I bade him adieu,” Cuthbert answered.
“Then he should have been heard of long since,” the duchess said. “What fate can have befallen him?”
“Judging from my own experience,” Cuthbert said, “I fear that he may have come to harm at the hands of the friends of Conrad of Montferat, who falsely allege that the death of their kinsman was caused by King Richard. The Archduke John, too, owes him no good-will; and even the emperor is evilly disposed toward him. The king traveled under an assumed name; but it might well be that he would be recognized upon the way. His face was known to all who fought in the East; and his lordly manner and majestic stature could ill be concealed beneath a merchant’s garb. Still, lady, as I have been so long in making my way across, it may be that King Richard has been similarly delayed without danger befalling him, and it could hardly be that so important a man as the King of England would be detained, or come to any misfortune, without the news being bruited abroad.”
In spite of Cuthbert’s reassuring words, the duke and duchess were greatly alarmed at the news of King Richard’s disappearance, although indeed consoled to find that their previous fears, that he had been drowned in the storm or captured by the Moorish corsairs, were unfounded.
They now requested from Cuthbert the story of what had befallen him since he left the king; and this he related at some length. The duke was greatly interested, and begged Cuthbert at least to remain at his court until some news might arrive of King Richard.
For a month Cuthbert tarried at the castle of the Duke of Saxony, where he was nobly entertained, and treated as a guest of much honor. Cnut and the archers were delighted at the treatment they received, for never in their lives had they been so royally entertained. Their Saxon tongue was nigh enough akin to the language spoken here to be understood; and their tales of adventure in the Holy Land rendered them as popular among the retainers of the duke as their master became with the duke and duchess.
CHAPTER XX
UNDER THE GREENWOOD
At the end of a month, news came from England that Sir Baldwin of Béthune had returned there, bearing the news that the king had been arrested at Gortz, only two days’ journey north of the Adriatic—that he had been recognized, and at once captured. He had offered no resistance, finding indeed that it would be hopeless so to do. Sir Baldwin had been permitted to depart without molestation. He believed that the folk into whose hands he had fallen were retainers of the Archduke John. This news, although sad in itself, was yet in some degree reassuring to the duke and his wife; for they felt that while the followers of Conrad of Montferat would not hesitate to put King Richard to death should he fall into their hands, the Archduke John would not dare to bring upon himself the indignation of Europe by such treatment of his royal captive. Cuthbert at once determined to return to England to see Sir Baldwin, and to ascertain what steps were being taken for the discovery of the prison in which King Richard was confined, and for his release therefrom; and also to establish himself in his new dignity as Earl of Evesham. Therefore, bidding adieu to the duke and duchess, he started north. The duke furnished him with letters of introduction to the princes through whose countries he would travel; and again crossing the Rhine, he journeyed through the territories of the Dukes of Cleves and Brabant, and reached the mouth of Scheldt without interruption. There taking ship, he sailed for London.
It was a long and stormy passage between the mouth of the Scheldt and London. The vessel in which Cuthbert had shipped was old and somewhat unseaworthy, and several times in the force of the gale all on board gave up hope for their lives. At last, however, they reached the mouth of the Thames, and dropping up with the tide, reached London eight days after their embarkation. The noble charger wh
ich the King of Saxony had presented to Cuthbert had suffered greatly, and he feared at one time that the poor animal would succumb to the effects of the tempest. However, after entering into smooth water it recovered itself, and on landing near the Tower he found that it was able to support his weight. Cnut and the archers were, like Cuthbert, delighted to have their feet again upon English soil; and although London did not now strike them with the same wonder which it would have done had they first visited it before starting on their journey—for in many respects it was greatly behind some of the continental cities—yet the feeling of home, and the pleasure of being able to understand the conversation of those around them, made the poor fellows almost beside themselves with joy. Beyond the main political incidents Cuthbert had heard little of what had passed in England since his departure; and putting up at a hostelry, he inquired of the host whether Sir Baldwin of Béthune was in London, or whether he was away on his estates. The landlord did not know. There were, he said, but few nobles at court, and London was never so dull as at present. As Cuthbert did not wish his coming home to be known to John until he had learned something of the position of affairs, he dispatched Cnut to the Tower to inquire privately of some of the officials about the place whether Sir Baldwin was there. Cnut soon returned with the news that he had not been at the court since his return from the Holy Land, and that he was living at his castle down in Dorsetshire. After some hesitation Cuthbert resolved to set out to see his friend, and after six days’ travel he arrived at the castle of the knight.