The Rival Heirs; being the Third and Last Chronicle of Aescendune

by A. D. Crake

  CHAPTER XIV. THE GUIDE.

  Rarely had a spring occurred so dry as that of 1069. With thebeginning of March dry winds set in from the east, no rain fell,and the watercourses shrank to summer proportions.

  All that winter Hugo de Malville had mourned in hopeless grief theloss of his boy--his only child; but at length grief deepened intoone bitter thirst--a thirst for revenge.

  That the Dismal Swamp protected the objects of his hatred from hissword he felt well assured; and had the frost been keen enough torender the marshes penetrable, he would have risked all in adesperate attempt to root out the vermin, as he called the poornatives, from the woods.

  But frost alternated with thaw, and snow with rain, and no attemptwas likely to be attended with success; so he waited and addedcompound interest to his thirst for vengeance.

  At length set in the dry and fierce winds of which we have spoken,and he felt secure of his prey at last; so preparations were atonce made for a grand battle in the marshes.

  The keen winds continued, and the scouts reported that the swampwas drier than they had ever seen it before. At length Aprilarrived, and with its earliest days--days of bright sunshine--itwas decided to delay no longer, but to explore the marshes with thewhole force of the barony, strengthened by recruits from thecastles of the neighbouring Norman nobles who willingly lent theiraid, and hastened to share the sport dearest of all to the Normanmind.

  But one thing was necessary to secure success--a guide, and how toprocure one was the riddle which puzzled Hugo, both by day andnight.

  No Norman could help them; but might not some Englishmen serve, notas willing tools, but under the compulsion of force and the dreadof torture?

  There were no English in the domains of the baron; all had fledinto the forest who were yet alive. There were, it is true, nativewoodmen in other parts of the wilderness; but they were not vassalsof Hugo, and one and all had repeatedly disclaimed knowledge ofthat part of the forest which was to be explored.

  In his perplexity Hugo offered great rewards to anyone who woulddiscover any of the former people of Aescendune and bring thembefore him.

  Leaving Hugo and his friends to concert their murderous plans, wemust invite the reader to accompany us once more to freedom's home,the Dismal Swamp.

  A council was being held at this selfsame time, which materiallyassisted the schemes of the baron, although not greatly to hisultimate gratification.

  It was held around the fire in the same farmhouse in which poorEadwin had met his death, and which had now become the headquartersof the outlaws whom Norman tyranny had made.

  Wilfred, young although he was, presided--for was he not therepresentative of the ancient lords of Aescendune, and thosegathered around him the descendants of the men whom his fathers hadoften led to victory?

  On his right sat Haga, the oldest retainer of his house, a man whoat the beginning of the century had actually fought with Alfgaragainst the Danes; on his left, Boom, the ancient forester of theAescendune woods--as moderns would say, "the head keeper."

  And there were Sexwulf and Ulf, Tosti and Elfwold, Ernulph andOrdgar, Oslac and Osgood, Wulfsy and Ringulph, Frithgist andWulfgar--men whose names sounded rough and uncouth in Norman ears,but were familiar enough to the natives.

  The whole party having assembled, Wilfred, as a consequence of hisrank, spoke first and opened the debate.

  "We have all come together tonight, Englishmen and friends, toconsider what we shall do in a very grave crisis--the gravest whichhas yet occurred since we fled to this refuge from the Normantyrant Hugo--whom may the saints confound. The thrall, Oslac,imperilling his life for our sake, has been to Aescendune, andbrings us back certain information that there is a great gatheringof men and horse to explore the swamp, for they guess shrewdly thatwe are hidden here, and they know now who burnt their farms andslew their men in the woods--thus making them afraid, the cowards,to venture therein save in large parties.

  "But since the old bear has lost his cub, his thirst for vengeanceincites him to stake all upon one grand attempt to penetrate ourfastnesses, and the dryness of the season seems to him to make itpossible."

  "Our pools and sloughs are never quite dry--they are bottomless,"said Beorn, "and you might stow away the castle of Aescendune insome of them, and 'twould sink out of sight."

  "But it is our object to foil his good intentions towards us:sooner or later we must fight him, and why not now? Haga, myfather, thou art the oldest and wisest here present; speak, and wewill be guided by thy counsel."

  "Let the Norman come," said the sage solemnly; "he shall perish inhis pride."

  "In what manner shall he die?"

  "By the death meet for the sacrilegious destroyer of the priory--byfire--it is God's will, revealed to me in visions of the night."

  "Fire? how?" cried several; then one common idea seemed to strikethem all.

  "The reeds. Once entangled in the marshes, we might fire them allround."

  "But how shall we get him to enter the marshes where the dry rushesare thickest?"

  "There is a bed of rushes and weeds half a mile across, around theheron's pool, and it is now so dry just there, that it would bearthe accursed foe, horses, and armour, could they be enticed tofollow the path which traverses it."

  "Who shall entice them and prevail?" said Beorn.

  "Will any of our men risk their own lives and volunteer as guidesto the Normans? They are seeking guides everywhere."

  There was a dead silence. At length a man arose--Ordgar, son ofHaga.

  "I will take my life in my hand to deliver my people from thetyranny of this Norman wolf."

  "God bless thee, my son," said his aged sire; "thou art the lightof mine eyes, but I can risk thee in thy country's cause and thecause of the House of Aescendune."

  "It is a holy cause," said Father Kenelm, who was present: "God'sarm is bared for vengeance--the blood of my martyred brethren criesaloud from beneath the altar."

  "And thou wilt say a mass for us?"

  "It is my duty, since I may not fight with carnal weapons."

  "But, Ordgar, how dost thou propose to act?"

  "They are scouring the woods daily, in search of some of us poorEnglish, whom they may force by torture to be their guides. I willthrow myself in their way."

  "They will not harm thee, my son; they are too eager for a guidewho knows the paths through the swamp."

  "But thou must not appear too willing," said Beorn.

  "Trust me for that; I will not promise to serve them till I have atleast seen their torture chamber."

  "Ordgar, thou dost indeed show a spirit worthy of an Englishman;and while such live, I shall never despair of my country," said theyouthful chieftain. "Should God restore me to the halls of myfathers, none shall be more honoured of his lord than thou; andshouldest thou fall, fear not but that English bards will be foundto sing thy praises."

  A few days later Hugo was scouring the forest like a wolf in searchof his prey. His men-at-arms were scattered through the woods,seeking for tracks of men. Huge dogs attended them, who wereencouraged to explore every thicket.

  They were near the Dismal Swamp.

  All at once a dog gave the peculiar whine which indicated that hehad found scent, and immediately afterwards started forward, hisnose to the ground, followed by two or three others.

  The men-at-arms followed, and Hugo amongst his retainers.

  Suddenly they broke into open view of the chase--a man was seenrunning before them for his life.

  The dogs gave tongue and followed him so swiftly that it was withdifficulty he could escape their fangs by climbing a tree.

  It was a poor refuge--dogs and Normans were speedily at the foot.

  "Come down, fellow," said Hugo, sternly, "unless thou desirest tobe brought down by an arrow."

  "Mercy, mercy," cried the fugitive.

  "What dost thou fear? If thou art a true man no harm shall befallthee. We are not robbers."

  The Englishman, for such he was, descende
d, and was at once securedand bound to prevent his escape.

  "Now, fellow," said Hugo, "who art thou? Whose vassal art thou?"

  "My name is Ordgar, son of Haga."

  "Haga, formerly a thrall of my estate?"

  "The same."

  "Where is thy accursed sire?"

  "I cannot betray my father."

  "This is the very man we want!" said Hugo; "bring him along. Thetorture will soon help him to find a tongue. Surely the saints haveheard our prayers and given him to us."

  A quaint idea of sanctity, that of Hugo.

  They dragged the intended victim forward through the woods. Once ortwice he appeared to make desperate efforts to escape, but we neednot say made them in vain.

  We must shift the scene to the torture chamber.

  Imagine a long dark room, below the level of the ground, underneaththe keep; stone flags below, a vaulted ceiling above; dimly lightedby torches fixed in sconces in the wall; a curtain covering arecess; in front, a chair for Hugo and a table for a scribe, withink horn and parchment.

  Around the table were gathered Hugo himself, his guests Raoul deBroc, Tustain de Wylmcote, Ralph de Bearleigh, his seneschal,chamberlain, and other confidential officers of his household, andfour strong brawny men-at-arms--sufficient to manage the prisonerwith ease.

  Ordgar, son of Haga, stood alone at the foot of the table, beforeall this hostile array.

  "Villain," said Hugo (the name only imported serf), "thy name?"

  "I have told thee, Ordgar, son of Haga."

  "Thou art a vassal of Aescendune?"

  "I was."

  "And art: my rights over thee cease not."

  "I do not acknowledge thee as my lord."

  "Thou mayst think better of it anon. Now thou wilt please answer myquestions.

  "Scribe, take down his replies."

  "He will not fill much parchment."

  "We shall see.

  "Where hast thou been hiding from thy lawful master?"

  "I have not been hiding from my lawful lord."

  "Fool, dost thou bandy words with me? Answer."

  "In the woods, then."

  "What woods?"

  "The forests around thee."

  "Dost thou know the Dismal Swamp?"

  "Well."

  "Hast thou been hiding there?"

  "Yes."

  "How many of thy comrades are in hiding at that place?"

  "I may not tell thee."

  "Behold. Tormentor, remove the curtain."

  The curtain was drawn back, and revealed a strange assortment ofthose implements by which man, worse than the beast of the field,has sinned against his fellow. There were the rack, the brazierwith its red-hot pincers, the thumbscrew, and, in short,instruments--happily unknown now--in the greatest variety; allintended to wring the truth from crime, or worse, the self-condemningfalsehood from the lips of helpless innocence {xiv}.

  "Wilt thou answer?"

  "I will not betray the innocent."

  "Seize him, tormentors."

  'Twas said and done, and after a short and furious struggle, thevictim was laid on the rack.

  "Turn."

  The tormentors, clad in leathern jerkins, hideous with masks tohide their brutal faces, turned the handles which worked pulleysand drew the victim's limbs out of joint.

  "Hold--enough--I will confess."

  "Release him."

  "What dost thou ask me?"

  "How many are there in the Dismal Swamp?"

  "Maybe a hundred."

  "Thou art trifling with me; I see we must put thee on the rackagain."

  "Nay, thou wouldst force me to deceive thee; there cannot be manymore."

  "Who is their leader?"

  "Haga, son of Ernulph."

  "Thy father?"

  The victim seemed resolved to say no more.

  "Place him on the rack again."

  But the fortitude of the captive did not seem equal to the lastsupreme trial.

  "Hold!" he cried, "I will confess all."

  He owned that his father Haga was the leader of the outlaws, andbeing interrogated eagerly by the baron about Etienne, stated thatthe latter was detained as a prisoner in the Swamp, in case theyshould need a hostage.

  "God be thanked!" said Hugo.

  He could yet take that holy name on his murderous lips, and soothto say he did feel gratitude.

  The next step was to persuade Ordgar to guide the Normans throughthe Dismal Swamp to the English settlement. A fresh application ofthe torture seemed needed to secure this desirable end, but thevictim yielded when the pain was about to be renewed--yielded tothe weakness of his own flesh, combined with a promise from thebaron that his father should not only be spared, but restored tothe little farm he had, formerly occupied at Aescendune, under thelast English thane.

  In short, the bargain was concluded, and Ordgar, son of Haga,became the promised guide of the foes of his country.