Beatrix of Clare

by John Reed Scott

  XXII

  THE KNIGHT AND THE ABBOT

  When the King returned, Sir John Kendale with Sir Aymer de Lacyhastened to place in his hands the letter containing Buckingham'sstatement, at the same time detailing the circumstances under which itwas made.

  Richard read it very carefully, and handed it back to Kendale.

  "So!" he said. "Out of the revolt comes the solution of the mystery,even as I thought. Now, De Lacy, you see it was wise not to arrestDarby at Lincoln."

  "Aye, Sire, you were right--and I fancy it is no wiser to arrest himnow."

  "Not unless you would have the Countess hurried to a fresh prison--orperchance put away altogether--ere you could hope to reach her. For beassured, Darby has provided that instant information be forwarded if hebe seized."

  "Then all I ask is permission to return forthwith to Yorkshire," saidDe Lacy.

  "It is granted," the King replied instantly. "Take with you a fewmen-at-arms and Raynor Royk; he knows the country as a priest hisprayers. As many more as you may need draw from Pontefract or any ofour castles--the Ring will be your warrant. Depart quietly and it canbe given out that you are on our special service. Meanwhile Darbyshall be as much a prisoner as though he were already in the Tower. Wemarch for Exeter to-morrow; and after things grow quiet thereabouts,and a head or two more has fallen, we shall fare back to London. ThereI trust you will bring, ere long, the Lady of Clare."

  An hour later Sir Aymer De Lacy and Giles Dauvrey, with Raynor Royk andfour sturdy men-at-arms, rode out of Salisbury and headed Westward.But after a league or so they turned abruptly to the right and circlingaround gained the main road to the North at a safe distance from thetown and bore away toward Yorkshire.

  Had De Lacy responded to the eagerness in his heart he would have racedall the way, nor drawn rein save to take refreshment. But no horse norpair of horses ever foaled could go the length of England at a gallop,and there were none worth the having to be obtained along the way: thearmy had swept the country clean of them as it marched Southward. Andso the pace was grave and easy; and though Aymer fretted and fumed andgrew more impatient as the end drew nearer, yet he never thought tohasten their speed; knowing that by going slowly they were, in fact,going fast. But at length, and in due season, the huge towers ofPontefract frowned against the sky line; and presently at the name ofDe Lacy, the drawbridge fell and they crossed into the courtyard.

  In the small room, where first he saw the Duke of Gloucester, De Lacyfound Sir John de Bury. The old Knight was slow to rally from hiswound; and being scarcely convalescent when Richard drew in his forces,he had been left in command of Pontefract in place of Sir RobertWallingford, who went with the King. But lately his strength wascoming back to him with swift pulsations and he was growing irritablyimpatient of his forced inactivity and of the obligation of officewhich held him stagnant while his sovereign rode to the wars. For asyet, no news had reached this distant section of the actual happeningsin the South and the bloodless collapse of the rebellion.

  "Holy St. Luke! has Richard been defeated!" De Bury exclaimed,springing to his feet.

  "Buckingham is dead and Tudor back in Brittany," Aymer answered.

  "Parbleu! Stafford dead!"

  "Aye--on the block at Salisbury on All-Souls-Day."

  "On the block? . . . Poor fool! . . . Poor fool! . . . Come, tell meabout it. But first, what brings you hither now?"

  "The Countess of Clare."

  "Beatrix! You have found her?" De Bury cried.

  "No--not her; but her abductor."

  "And he is hereabouts?"

  De Lacy shook his head. "He is with the army."

  "Then in God's Name, why are you at Pontefract?"

  "Easy, Sir John, easy," Aymer answered, his hand on the other'sshoulder. "Do you think I would be in Yorkshire if Beatrix were notthere, also?"--and forthwith he plunged into a narrative of the eventsfrom his encounter with Darby at Sheffield to the death of Buckingham.

  "A pretty scheme of Darby's, truly," Sir John commented; "and the doghas played it well. He has nerve uncommon so to brave the royalRichard in his very Court. It is well for you there was no battle, oronfall even, else would you have got an arrow or a sword thrust frombehind. . . Now as to Beatrix; is she at Roxford?"

  "There or at Kirkstall Abbey."

  "True enough; and a most likely place to conceal her the instant Darbywas suspected."

  De Lacy took a quick turn up and down the room. "God in Heaven, SirJohn! has Beatrix come through this without injury or insult?"

  "What! What! Injury or insult! They would not dare------?" De Burycried passionately.

  "They have dared to seize and hold her prisoner--would they would dareno more."

  The old Knight sank back into his chair and covered his face with hishands. . . "The heiress of the Clares--the favorite of the Queen. . .They would not dare.--Yet if they have------"

  "Beatrix will be dead," said De Lacy, "and naught left for me butvengeance."

  "Aye! she was ever a brave lass and would kill herself without a whitof hesitation. Nathless, the rescue or the vengeance is for me,also--I ride with you to-morrow?"

  "But are you strong enough to risk it?"

  "By St. Luke! strong enough to ride to Land's End if need be to strikea blow for Beatrix,"--smiting the table with his fist.

  "Then together be it, and welcome. Here is to the Countess and herrescue ere the morrow's sun go down!" and he filled two goblets withwine.

  "And death and confusion to her captors," Sir John echoed, raising highhis glass.

  Clad in full mail and followed by threescore men-at-arms and as manyarchers the two Knights set out from Pontefract the following morning.After due discussion they had determined that the time for cautiousindirection was passed and that there would be no quibbling with theAbbot of Kirkstall. He would be called upon to produce the Countess orto disclose where she was hidden, as well as to confess all that heknew concerning the abduction. They were not in a mood to argue or tobe trifled with; and ill would it be for Aldam if he tried evasion orgrew stubborn.

  And that they came in spirit scarce pacific was declared by their firstact when the Abbey was reached. With the haft of his battle-axe DeLacy struck the outer gate a resounding blow; and getting no promptresponse, followed it with a second that rang among the buildings andcorridors within. Straightway there came the shuffle of sandaled feetand a fumbling at the wicket, which opening slowly, disclosed therotund face and heavy, sleepy eyes of Father Ambrose.

  "Well! what means this unseemly bluster?" he began. . . . "Yourlordships' pardon--I will open instantly," and hurried to remove thebars.

  "We seek speech with the Lord Abbot," said De Lacy, halting beside thelodge, while the soldiers filed into the courtyard and drew into lineat the farther side.

  The monk watched this proceeding with blank surprise.

  "Hear you not?" Aymer demanded sharply, letting his mailed hand fallheavily on the other's shoulder. "We seek the Abbot."

  Father Ambrose shrank back in amaze at the tones and action.

  "His reverence is engaged at present in a session of the Chapter," hefaltered.

  "Good--we will interrogate him there," Aymer answered; and Sir John andhe galloped across to the church and dismounted.

  In the Chapter-house, the brothers, both ecclesiastical and lay, wereassembled in convocation. On the dais, in the recess at one side ofthe hall, sat the Abbot in his great carved chair of state. He wasleaning slightly forward, chin on hand, regarding with calm andcritical scrutiny the faces of the white-robed throng below him. Andthe monks, crowded on their narrow oaken benches, felt the stern eyesupon them and grew restless; for none knew how soon he might be calledforward for rebuke before them all. And Aldam did not spare words whenhe administered his corrections; and not one of the Cistercians butwould have chosen the heaviest task of the fields for four and twentyhours in preference to a single minute's lashing by his biting tongue.

 
; On the Abbot's right was Father James, the Prior, whose jolly face andample girth were equalled only by the Sub-prior, Father Albert, thefavorite of all the Abbey, who permitted the monks to do their ownsweet wills so long as it did not interfere with the necessary laborsof the farms and religious ceremonies.

  "Let the names of the candidates for admission to full brotherhood inour holy Order be read," the Abbot ordered.

  The Chancellor stepped forward and with much rattle of parchment openedthe roll and cleared his throat preparatory to intoning. But he got nofurther. The religious calm was rudely broken by the clash of steel onthe bare pavement of the ante-chamber, and as Aldam raised his head inangry surprise the door was flung back and the two Knights, visors up,strode down the aisle.

  Instantly there was confusion; the monks, like timid children, drew faraway from these impious invaders of their peacefulness; some made asthough to flee; and all broke out into cries of alarm and terror.

  The Abbot sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing, his face pale withsuppressed ire.

  "Silence!" he thundered. "Return this instant to your seats, youfearful ones!"

  The brothers huddled back into their places, trembling. There was forthem small choice between the anger of their ruler and the armed men intheir midst.

  "Truly this is strange conduct for Sir John de Bury and Sir Aymer deLacy," the Abbot exclaimed as they halted before the dais. "Sincewhen, pray, has it been deemed knightly to offer such affront to HolyChurch?"

  "Since a mitred Abbot of Holy Church has shamed his sacred office," DeLacy answered curtly.

  "What, sirs!" Aldam cried. "Do you dare insult the Abbot of Kirkstall,here in his very chapter, and hope to go unpunished either in thisworld or the next?"

  Aymer folded his arms over the shaft of his battle axe and laughedgrimly.

  "In this world methinks small need have we to fear your reverence; andas for the next world we will chance it. But be advised: tax us notwith threats; our patience is likely to be short."

  "And ours is gone entirely--do you, Sir John de Bury, approve this rashyouth's sacrilege?"

  "Aye, that I do," De Bury answered, his face set as stone.

  "Are you both mad?" the Abbot exclaimed.

  "Yea, that we are," replied De Lacy. "Mad with anger and resentment.Can you guess why?"

  The monk made no answer save a sneer.

  "Listen, and you and your underlings shall hear: One evening a month orso aback--your memory, good father, will serve you whether it was one,or two, or three--a certain demoiselle styled Countess of Clare, Maidto Her Majesty, the Queen of England, while near the Hermit's Cell inthe escort of Sir John de Bury, her uncle and guardian, was waylaid andby force and violence seized upon and carried off. And though therewas hue and cry and searchings without rest, yet it was unavailing."

  "Certes, we know all these matters," Aldam broke in angrily.

  "Yes, you know them--and much more."

  The Cistercian's face changed its expression not a whit.

  "Are you aware, my lord Abbot, that the Duke of Buckingham has diedupon the block?" De Lacy questioned.

  Aldam shrugged his shoulders. "It was scarce Stafford's death thatbrought you to Kirkstall," he scoffed.

  Aymer laughed derisively. "Think you so? Then are you mistakenwoefully. But for it I would be at Salisbury and your foul crime stillunsuspected."

  "Now has patience run its limit!" the Abbot exclaimed. "Brothers ofBenedict! throw me these two godless ones without the gates." Andseizing the huge chair beside him, with strength astonishing in one soslender, he whirled it high and brought it down at De Lacy's head.

  But the Knight sprang lightly aside, and the heavy missile, tearingitself by sheer weight from the priest's fingers, crashed upon thepavement and broke asunder.

  If there had been any possibility of help from his frightened flock itwas ended by this ill-timed blow. The Prior and his fellows on thedais made not a single motion; and save for an excited swaying andwhispering, the monks sat stolid on their benches, either toofrightened to flee or too indifferent to the Abbot's safety to care toaid him. For once had the habit of trembling obedience, yoked uponthem by years of stern domination, been loosed by the spirit of fear orthe hope of release.

  And with a sneer of disgust on his face he surveyed them; and the scornin his voice must have shamed them to the floor had they been of theblood of such as feel disgrace.

  "You cowardly curs!" he exclaimed; "have you no spark of manhood leftamong you?"

  "Perchance they, in their turn, can dub you cur," said De Lacy tersely,springing on the dais and taking hold upon the Abbot's arm; "for here,on the dying word of the Duke of Buckingham, do I accuse you ofcomplicity in the abduction of the Countess of Clare."

  Aldam shook off the mailed fingers.

  "What! What!" he cried. "Would you lay hands in violence upon one ofGod's anointed? . . . Stand back, Sir Aymer de Lacy . . . and you,too, Sir John de Bury, lest I smite you both with the Church'sanathema."

  A gasp of horror came from the monks, and even the two Priors wereappalled at the threat--dire enough, indeed, to most men in that age,but little short of Hell itself to such as were cloister-bred.

  De Lacy folded his arms again over his battle-axe.

  "It was no purpose nor intent of mine," he said, "to offer youviolence------"

  "Nathless, it was done," the Abbot broke in arrogantly, "and naught butsharp penance can atone for it and for your deeds here this day."

  De Lacy smiled contemptuously. "Methinks, lord Abbot, you arestrangely dull of brain to fancy you can fright us so. Believe me, wecare as little for your curse as for your broken chair. Nor did Ispeak in apology for my action. I meant no violence then; yet if we donot get true answer to our questions, be assured there shall beviolence both meant and done."

  The monks groaned aloud; but the Abbot only shrugged his shoulders.

  "You have heard," De Lacy went on with steady menace; "and do not thinkit is an idle boast. Answer! have you the Countess of Clare within thebounds of Kirkstall Abbey?"

  Aldam raised his hand in seeming horror. "Think you that the monks ofBenedict------?" he began.

  "Answer!" cried Aymer, striking the arm of the Prior's chair with hismailed fist so fiercely that its stout occupant, in sudden terror, fledto the rear of the dais.

  Instantly the Abbot seated himself in the vacant place.

  "I frighten not so easily as the timid Brother James," he said. "Butas the lady is not with us, you are welcome to that knowledge."

  "Where is she, then?"

  The Cistercian leaned back and stared De Lacy in the face. "If I knewI would not tell you."

  "You do know--and either you tell or you hang from your own gate beam."

  Aldam half arose from his chair; then dropped back and laughed.

  "You would not dare," he said; "and were I the abductor himself."

  De Lacy faced toward the door.

  "What ho! Without!" he called.

  A score of men-at-arms burst into the room with drawn swords. Themonks set up a fresh cry of terror and fell to chanting prayers, andFather Alfred and the Chancellor sought refuge in the shadow with thePrior. But the Abbot never stirred in his seat, save to shift his gazeto the fresh disturbers of his authority.

  At a sign from De Lacy, the soldiers sheathed their weapons and fellinto double rank near the door, while Raynor Royk advanced to the daisand saluted. Then the Knight turned again to the Abbot.

  "We shall search this Abbey from loft to cellar,"' he said. "If theCountess be not here and you still remain obdurate, then shall youstretch halter, an you were the Pope of Rome himself. . . Raynor, wecommit these good fathers to your custody. Let none quit the room--ifneed be, cut down any who attempt it."

  All this time Sir John de Bury was leaning on his long sword, his coldgrey eyes fixed on the Abbot. Now he faced about and, silent still,tramped out of the Chapter-house beside De Lacy. And with them wenthalf of the men-at
-arms.