CHAPTER X
FATHER AND SON SET OUT FOR HENNEBON
NEARLY four years have elapsed since the events recorded in the lastchapter--years full of national interest. The naval battle of Sluy'shad been fought and won, and for the time the English fleet ruled theChannel, so that scarce a French or Spanish vessel dared to showitself betwixt Ushant and Cape Grisnez.
After the siege of Tournay, a treaty had been concluded between KingEdward III. and Philip of France, but the former was ever on thealert to seize a favourable opportunity of renewing hostilities, andlate in 1341 an incident occurred that gave the King the excuse toprosecute the war once more--a step that led to the glorious victoryat Crecy and the overrunning of nearly the whole of France by thevictorious arms of England.
The Duchy of Brittany was disputed between John of Montfort andCharles of Blois, and, while the latter was pressing his claims atthe French Court, Montfort, by force or intrigue, had acquired thefortresses of Rennes, Nantes, Brest, and Hennebon; and in order toobtain a powerful supporter he had journeyed to England and concludedan offensive and defensive alliance with King Edward, at the sametime offering to do him homage for the Duchy of Brittany.
Keeping this treaty a deep secret, Montfort did not hesitate toreturn to Paris to defend his case, but realising that the FrenchKing did not favour him, and fearing violence at his hands, the Earlretired to Brittany and declared war against the Count of Blois.
Philip sent his son, the Duke of Normandy, with a powerful force toaid Charles of Blois, and Montfort, after sending urgent requests forassistance to the King of England, shut himself up in Nantes, whichwas immediately besieged by the French.
By the treachery of the inhabitants Nantes fell, and Montfort, takenprisoner, was hurried to Paris, where he was loaded with chains andthrown into a loathsome dungeon in the Louvre.
But, though low, the fortunes of the Montforts were destined torecover. The cause was taken up by the Countess Joan of Montfort, theheroic wife of the imprisoned Earl, and being loyally supported bythe Bretons, she withdrew her forces to the town of Hennebon, whereshe awaited the onslaught of the French, trusting in the expected aidfrom England.
* * * * *
But to return to Raymond Buckland and his adventures. As squire toSir John Hacket, the Constable of the King's Castle of Portchester,he was now a member of the knight's household, spending the greaterpart of his time within the grey walls of the fortress.
Four years had made a great change in Raymond's appearance. He wasnow a youth of twenty, tall and well built. Thanks to hissurroundings, he was skilled in the arts of warfare, and few couldwithstand him at the jousts and spear-runnings that were frequentlyheld in the extensive grass-grown square that formed the outer baileyof the castle. Moreover, his monkish training admirably fitted himfor the more clerkly duties that fell to him, and by his diligence,intelligence, and courage he was held in high esteem by the fiery oldknight.
Redward, too, for his tried devotion and experience was made headmaster-bowman of the Constable's company, and, when occasion served,Sir John was not above asking his advice in the ordering of thecastle and its defences.
But over Raymond hung a dark cloud of perplexity. The image of thefair Lady Audrey was ever present in his mind, and, encouraged by theConstable's prediction that in due course he might be entitled towear the gilded spurs of knighthood, his hopes ran high of one daybeing in a position to win the maiden's heart and hand. But to hisunbounded surprise, Raymond found that his father was tacitly opposedto this, his dearest wish. With difficulty Redward had been persuadedto allow the young squire to wait upon Sir Reginald Scarsdale, whenthat knight wished to thank him for his services. Any mention of thename of Scarsdale served to plunge the master-bow-man into moodinessand silence, and any question that the lad put to his sire on thesubject was turned in a way that puzzled Raymond in no small degree.
One day an event happened that was to transfer the lad from thepleasant life of ease at the castle to a far more active anddangerous sphere.
How well Raymond remembered it in after years. That morning he andanother squire had mounted the four-storeyed Norman keep, and fromthe battlements looked down upon the scene below. It was a strikingpicture; the keep stood at the north-west-angle of the huge fortifiedenclosure. Immediately beneath the east and south faces of the donjonlay the inner bailey. In the far corner of the outer bailey stood thechurch, and close by was the water-gate, at which lay the Constable'sstate barge. Away to the south stretched the wide expanse ofPortsmouth Harbour, its waters dotted with the sails of highsidedcogs and other merchant vessels, as they threaded their way up thesinuous deep-water channels that led to the castle.
Immediately opposite the water-gate was the landport, or gatewaygiving access to the castle from the land. The lads could follow theline of the dusty road as it passed through the little village, sweptround the head of the harbour, and eventually was lost in thedistance as it ran towards the City of London.
"Look, Raymond," exclaimed his companion, a Hampshire lad namedOswald Mant. "A horseman approaches, and, my faith, he does not sparehis steed!"
"'Tis not one of the company?"
"Nay, look at the livery--murrey slashed with green--he is of thehousehold of Sir John Chandos."
"Then something of importance hath taken place. I would 'twere goodtidings from France!"
Leaving a dense white cloud of chalky dust behind him, the messengerclattered down the road, pulled up for a moment at the outer gatewayto reply to the challenge of the guard, then spurred madly across thecourtyard to the foot of the steps leading to the keep. Here a pageran forward to hold his horse, and, throwing himself wearily from thesaddle, the rider staggered up the steps and disappeared under a lowarchway that gave access to the Constable's quarters.
An hour passed ere the messenger reappeared, and, after draining acup of wine, he remounted and spurred his horse on his homewardjourney.
While the two squires were debating over the matter, a page soughtthem, summoning Raymond to instantly repair to Sir John's apartment.
With beating heart, as if anticipating some good fortune, Raymondfollowed the page, and was ushered into the Constable's presence,where he found that Redward was already before him. It was a long,narrow room, lighted with lancet windows and hung with rich arras. Atone end was a heavy table littered with papers and plans, and, forthe nonce, unmindful of the dignity of his position, Sir John wassitting on its edge, swinging one leg, with the air of a man who isoccupied by a perplexing problem.
Directly the page had retired, the Constable signed to Redward todraw a thick hanging over the door.
"Raymond," quoth he, "the King hath done us a signal honour. Amessenger hath arrived with orders for me to send a trusty squire tothe Countess of Montfort, who, as ye know, is beleaguere in Hennebon.'Twill be a grave and hazardous task, yet withal one of great honour.To my mind, I cannot name a more promising messenger than thee. Artwilling to take the risk?"
"To have a chance to distinguish myself in the King's service is myardent desire, sir!"
"'Tis well. Now listen. Hennebon is on the sea coast of Brittany,betwixt the great River Loire and the town of Brest. As the foemenlie thick around it, and have also, I doubt not, a strongwater-guard, 'tis a matter of stratagem rather than open work. But,in any case, this packet must be delivered into the hands of theCountess at all costs--at all costs, I repeat. I give thee a freehand in the matter. Take what men thou dost deem fit--though,methinks, the smaller the party the more chance of success."
"Methinks my father will be sufficient company for me, sir."
"Ah! as I thought. Thou hast chosen wisely. Now take this map andmark it well--'tis by the hand of the King's own guide--and get yougone to prepare for thy journey, for to-morrow morn a stout littlecraft will lie off the water-gate ready to bear thee over the sea."
Overjoyed at the prospects of such an adventure Raymond withdrew, andconsulted with his father on the best means of getting through thecordon that
was drawn round the beleaguered town.
As night drew on, father and son repaired to the little church withinthe walls, and for seven long hours kept an earnest vigil before thealtar, praying fervently for the success of their enterprise, andinvoking the protection of their patron saints against the perils ofland and sea. Then, as daylight dawned, they arose, weary and stiff,to partake of food and drink ere embarking.
Tidings of their mission had already spread throughout the garrisonof the castle, and when, accompanied by the Constable himself, thetwo travellers made their way to the water-gate, a large concourse ofsoldiers and members of the household flocked behind them to cheerthem on their way and to wish them God-speed.
Riding easily at her hempen cable, on the first of the ebb tide, laythe staunch vessel that was to carry them across the Channel. On herstern were engraved the words _Les Trois Freres de Guernesey_,showing her to be one of the Channel Islands boats, whose crew, braveand hardy fishermen, were the best pilots obtainable.
They were, in fact, the only vessels that in those days were capableof making any pretence of sailing into the wind, and even then only,in nautical language, "full and bye." The usual type of ships, withtheir huge square sail, could only run before the breeze.
The skiff of _Les Trois Freres_ was waiting at the little Hard, andthe farewells were quickly said. The precious despatch was sewn inthe hem of Raymond's jerkin, and once again the stern old knightimpressed upon his squire the necessity of the utmost caution. Thenhe extended his hand to the lad.
"God be with thee, and bring thee safely home again. I would be lothto lose so promising a lad!" exclaimed Sir John.
"Thanks for thy good wishes, fair sir," replied Raymond. "And shouldI not return," he added, with a faint catch in his voice which, inspite of his stout heart, he was unable to conceal, "I pray you sendthis packet to the lady whose superscription appears hereon." And,thrusting into the knight's hand a bulky missive, Raymond turnedquickly on his heel, to hide his rising colour, and stepped into theskiff.
The Constable watched the Guernsey bark hoist her sails, and waitedtill she was well on her way down towards the harbour's mouth; thenhe returned slowly towards his quarters.
Glancing at the packet, he deciphered with difficulty thesuperscription, written in a scrawling hand: "To ye richtworshippefulle Ladye Audrey Scarsdale."
"Heaven bless the lad," he mused. "Certes I am of a mind to forwardthis missive whether he returns or not!"
The Winning of the Golden Spurs Page 11