CHAPTER XIV
Some hours later, fifty men followed Norman of Torn on foot through theravine below the castle where John de Fulm, Earl of Buckingham, had hisheadquarters; while nearly a thousand more lurked in the woods beforethe grim pile.
Under cover of the tangled shrubbery, they crawled unseen to the littledoor through which Joan de Tany had led him the night before. Followingthe corridors and vaults beneath the castle, they came to the stonestairway, and mounted to the passage which led to the false panel thathad given the two fugitives egress.
Slipping the spring lock, Norman of Torn entered the apartmentfollowed closely by his henchmen. On they went, through apartment afterapartment, but no sign of the Earl or his servitors rewarded theirsearch, and it was soon apparent that the castle was deserted.
As they came forth into the courtyard, they descried an old man baskingin the sun, upon a bench. The sight of them nearly caused the old fellowto die of fright, for to see fifty armed men issue from the untenantedhalls was well reckoned to blanch even a braver cheek.
When Norman of Torn questioned him, he learned that De Fulm had riddenout early in the day bound for Dover, where Prince Edward then was. Theoutlaw knew it would be futile to pursue him, but yet, so fierce was hisanger against this man, that he ordered his band to mount, and spurringto their head, he marched through Middlesex, and crossing the Thamesabove London, entered Surrey late the same afternoon.
As they were going into camp that night in Kent, midway between Londonand Rochester, word came to Norman of Torn that the Earl of Buckingham,having sent his escort on to Dover, had stopped to visit the wife of aroyalist baron, whose husband was with Prince Edward's forces.
The fellow who gave this information was a servant in my lady'shousehold who held a grudge against his mistress for some wrong she haddone him. When, therefore, he found that these grim men were searchingfor De Fulm, he saw a way to be revenged upon his mistress.
"How many swords be there at the castle?" asked Norman of Torn.
"Scarce a dozen, barring the Earl of Buckingham," replied the knave;"and, furthermore, there be a way to enter, which I may show you, MyLord, so that you may, unseen, reach the apartment where My Lady and theEarl be supping."
"Bring ten men, beside yourself, Shandy," commanded Norman of Torn. "Weshall pay a little visit upon our amorous friend, My Lord, the Earl ofBuckingham."
Half an hour's ride brought them within sight of the castle.Dismounting, and leaving their horses with one of the men, Norman ofTorn advanced on foot with Shandy and the eight others, close in thewake of the traitorous servant.
The fellow led them to the rear of the castle, where, among the brush,he had hidden a rude ladder, which, when tilted, spanned the moat andrested its farther end upon a window ledge some ten feet above theground.
"Keep the fellow here till last, Shandy," said the outlaw, "till allbe in, an' if there be any signs of treachery, stick him through thegizzard--death thus be slower and more painful."
So saying, Norman of Torn crept boldly across the improvised bridge, anddisappeared within the window beyond. One by one the band of cut-throatspassed through the little window, until all stood within the castlebeside their chief; Shandy coming last with the servant.
"Lead me quietly, knave, to the room where My Lord sups," said Normanof Torn. "You, Shandy, place your men where they can prevent my beinginterrupted."
Following a moment or two after Shandy came another figure stealthilyacross the ladder and, as Norman of Torn and his followers left thelittle room, this figure pushed quietly through the window and followedthe great outlaw down the unlighted corridor.
A moment later, My Lady of Leybourn looked up from her plate upon thegrim figure of an armored knight standing in the doorway of the greatdining hall.
"My Lord Earl!" she cried. "Look! Behind you."
And as the Earl of Buckingham glanced behind him, he overturned thebench upon which he sat in his effort to gain his feet; for My Lord Earlof Buckingham had a guilty conscience.
The grim figure raised a restraining hand, as the Earl drew his sword.
"A moment, My Lord," said a low voice in perfect French.
"Who are you?" cried the lady.
"I be an old friend of My Lord, here; but let me tell you a littlestory.
"In a grim old castle in Essex, only last night, a great lord of Englandheld by force the beautiful daughter of a noble house and, when shespurned his advances, he struck her with his clenched fist upon her fairface, and with his brute hands choked her. And in that castle also wasa despised and hunted outlaw, with a price upon his head, for whose neckthe hempen noose has been yawning these many years. And it was this vileperson who came in time to save the young woman from the noble flower ofknighthood that would have ruined her young life.
"The outlaw wished to kill the knight, but many men-at-arms came to thenoble's rescue, and so the outlaw was forced to fly with the girl lesthe be overcome by numbers, and the girl thus fall again into the handsof her tormentor.
"But this crude outlaw was not satisfied with merely rescuing the girl,he must needs mete out justice to her noble abductor and collect in fullthe toll of blood which alone can atone for the insult and violence doneher.
"My Lady, the young girl was Joan de Tany; the noble was My Lord theEarl of Buckingham; and the outlaw stands before you to fulfill the dutyhe has sworn to do. En garde, My Lord!"
The encounter was short, for Norman of Torn had come to kill, and he hadbeen looking through a haze of blood for hours--in fact every time hehad thought of those brutal fingers upon the fair throat of Joan de Tanyand of the cruel blow that had fallen upon her face.
He showed no mercy, but backed the Earl relentlessly into a cornerof the room, and when he had him there where he could escape in nodirection, he drove his blade so deep through his putrid heart that thepoint buried itself an inch in the oak panel beyond.
Claudia Leybourn sat frozen with horror at the sight she was witnessing,and, as Norman of Torn wrenched his blade from the dead body before himand wiped it on the rushes of the floor, she gazed in awful fascinationwhile he drew his dagger and made a mark upon the forehead of the deadnobleman.
"Outlaw or Devil," said a stern voice behind them, "Roger Leybourn owesyou his friendship for saving the honor of his home."
Both turned to discover a mail-clad figure standing in the doorway whereNorman of Torn had first appeared.
"Roger!" shrieked Claudia Leybourn, and swooned.
"Who be you?" continued the master of Leybourn addressing the outlaw.
For answer Norman of Torn pointed to the forehead of the dead Earl ofBuckingham, and there Roger Leybourn saw, in letters of blood, NT.
The Baron advanced with outstretched hand.
"I owe you much. You have saved my poor, silly wife from this beast,and Joan de Tany is my cousin, so I am doubly beholden to you, Norman ofTorn."
The outlaw pretended that he did not see the hand.
"You owe me nothing, Sir Roger, that may not be paid by a good supper. Ihave eaten but once in forty-eight hours."
The outlaw now called to Shandy and his men, telling them to remain onwatch, but to interfere with no one within the castle.
He then sat at the table with Roger Leybourn and his lady, who hadrecovered from her swoon, and behind them on the rushes of the floor laythe body of De Fulm in a little pool of blood.
Leybourn told them that he had heard that De Fulm was at his home, andhad hastened back; having been in hiding about the castle for half anhour before the arrival of Norman of Torn, awaiting an opportunity toenter unobserved by the servants. It was he who had followed across theladder after Shandy.
The outlaw spent the night at the castle of Roger Leybourn; for thefirst time within his memory a welcomed guest under his true name at thehouse of a gentleman.
The following morning, he bade his host goodbye, and returning to hiscamp started on his homeward march toward Torn.
Near midday, as they wer
e approaching the Thames near the environs ofLondon, they saw a great concourse of people hooting and jeering at asmall party of gentlemen and gentlewomen.
Some of the crowd were armed, and from very force of numbers were waxingbrave to lay violent hands upon the party. Mud and rocks and rottenvegetables were being hurled at the little cavalcade, many of thembarely missing the women of the party.
Norman of Torn waited to ask no questions, but spurring into the thickof it laid right and left of him with the flat of his sword, and hismen, catching the contagion of it, swarmed after him until the wholepack of attacking ruffians were driven into the Thames.
And then, without a backward glance at the party he had rescued, hecontinued on his march toward the north.
The little party sat upon their horses looking in wonder after theretreating figures of their deliverers. Then one of the ladies turnedto a knight at her side with a word of command and an imperious gesturetoward the fast disappearing company. He, thus addressed, put spurs tohis horse, and rode at a rapid gallop after the outlaw's troop. In a fewmoments he had overtaken them and reined up beside Norman of Torn.
"Hold, Sir Knight," cried the gentleman, "the Queen would thank you inperson for your brave defence of her."
Ever keen to see the humor of a situation, Norman of Torn wheeled hishorse and rode back with the Queen's messenger.
As he faced Her Majesty, the Outlaw of Torn bent low over his pommel.
"You be a strange knight that thinks so lightly on saving a queen's lifethat you ride on without turning your head, as though you had but drivena pack of curs from annoying a stray cat," said the Queen.
"I drew in the service of a woman, Your Majesty, not in the service of aqueen."
"What now! Wouldst even belittle the act which we all witnessed? TheKing, my husband, shall reward thee, Sir Knight, if you but tell me yourname."
"If I told my name, methinks the King would be more apt to hang me,"laughed the outlaw. "I be Norman of Torn."
The entire party looked with startled astonishment upon him, for none ofthem had ever seen this bold raider whom all the nobility and gentry ofEngland feared and hated.
"For lesser acts than that which thou hast just performed, the Kinghas pardoned men before," replied Her Majesty. "But raise your visor,I would look upon the face of so notorious a criminal who can yet be agentleman and a loyal protector of his queen."
"They who have looked upon my face, other than my friends," repliedNorman of Torn quietly, "have never lived to tell what they saw beneaththis visor, and as for you, Madame, I have learned within the year tofear it might mean unhappiness to you to see the visor of the Devil ofTorn lifted from his face." Without another word he wheeled and gallopedback to his little army.
"The puppy, the insolent puppy," cried Eleanor of England, in a rage.
And so the Outlaw of Torn and his mother met and parted after a periodof twenty years.
Two days later, Norman of Torn directed Red Shandy to lead the forces ofTorn from their Essex camp back to Derby. The numerous raiding partieswhich had been constantly upon the road during the days they had spentin this rich district had loaded the extra sumpter beasts with richand valuable booty and the men, for the time satiated with fighting andloot, turned their faces toward Torn with evident satisfaction.
The outlaw was speaking to his captains in council; at his side the oldman of Torn.
"Ride by easy stages, Shandy, and I will overtake you by tomorrowmorning. I but ride for a moment to the castle of De Tany on an errand,and, as I shall stop there but a few moments, I shall surely join youtomorrow."
"Do not forget, My Lord," said Edwild the Serf, a great yellow-hairedSaxon giant, "that there be a party of the King's troops camped close bythe road which branches to Tany."
"I shall give them plenty of room," replied Norman of Torn. "My neckitcheth not to be stretched," and he laughed and mounted.
Five minutes after he had cantered down the road from camp, Spizo theSpaniard, sneaking his horse unseen into the surrounding forest, mountedand spurred rapidly after him. The camp, in the throes of packingrefractory, half broken sumpter animals, and saddling their own wildmounts, did not notice his departure. Only the little grim, gray, oldman knew that he had gone, or why, or whither.
That afternoon, as Roger de Conde was admitted to the castle of Richardde Tany and escorted to a little room where he awaited the coming ofthe Lady Joan, a swarthy messenger handed a letter to the captain of theKing's soldiers camped a few miles south of Tany.
The officer tore open the seal as the messenger turned and spurred backin the direction from which he had come.
And this was what he read:
Norman of Torn is now at the castle of Tany, without escort.
Instantly the call "to arms" and "mount" sounded through the camp and,in five minutes, a hundred mercenaries galloped rapidly toward thecastle of Richard de Tany, in the visions of their captain a greatreward and honor and preferment for the capture of the mighty outlaw whowas now almost within his clutches.
Three roads meet at Tany; one from the south along which the King'ssoldiers were now riding; one from the west which had guided Normanof Torn from his camp to the castle; and a third which ran northwestthrough Cambridge and Huntingdon toward Derby.
All unconscious of the rapidly approaching foes, Norman of Torn waitedcomposedly in the anteroom for Joan de Tany.
Presently she entered, clothed in the clinging house garment of theperiod; a beautiful vision, made more beautiful by the suppressedexcitement which caused the blood to surge beneath the velvet of hercheek, and her breasts to rise and fall above her fast beating heart.
She let him take her fingers in his and raise them to his lips, and thenthey stood looking into each other's eyes in silence for a long moment.
"I do not know how to tell you what I have come to tell," he said sadly."I have not meant to deceive you to your harm, but the temptation to bewith you and those whom you typify must be my excuse. I--" He paused.It was easy to tell her that he was the Outlaw of Torn, but if she lovedhim, as he feared, how was he to tell her that he loved only Bertrade deMontfort?
"You need tell me nothing," interrupted Joan de Tany. "I have guessedwhat you would tell me, Norman of Torn. 'The spell of moonlight andadventure is no longer upon us'--those are your own words, and still Iam glad to call you friend."
The little emphasis she put upon the last word bespoke the finality ofher decision that the Outlaw of Torn could be no more than friend toher.
"It is best," he replied, relieved that, as he thought, she felt nolove for him now that she knew him for what he really was. "Nothing goodcould come to such as you, Joan, if the Devil of Torn could claim moreof you than friendship; and so I think that for your peace of mind andfor my own, we will let it be as though you had never known me. I thankyou that you have not been angry with me. Remember me only to think thatin the hills of Derby, a sword is at your service, without reward andwithout price. Should you ever need it, Joan, tell me that you will sendfor me--wilt promise me that, Joan?"
"I promise, Norman of Torn."
"Farewell," he said, and as he again kissed her hand he bent his kneeto the ground in reverence. Then he rose to go, pressing a little packetinto her palm. Their eyes met, and the man saw, in that brief instant,deep in the azure depths of the girl's that which tumbled the structureof his new-found complacency about his ears.
As he rode out into the bright sunlight upon the road which lednorthwest toward Derby, Norman of Torn bowed his head in sorrow, for herealized two things. One was that the girl he had left still loved him,and that some day, mayhap tomorrow, she would suffer because she hadsent him away; and the other was that he did not love her, that hisheart was locked in the fair breast of Bertrade de Montfort.
He felt himself a beast that he had allowed his loneliness and theaching sorrow of his starved, empty heart to lead him into this girl'slife. That he had been new to women and newer still to love did notpermit him to excuse himse
lf, and a hundred times he cursed his follyand stupidity, and what he thought was fickleness.
But the unhappy affair had taught him one thing for certain: to knowwithout question what love was, and that the memory of Bertrade deMontfort's lips would always be more to him than all the allurementspossessed by the balance of the women of the world, no matter howcharming, or how beautiful.
Another thing, a painful thing he had learned from it, too, that theattitude of Joan de Tany, daughter of an old and noble house, was butthe attitude which the Outlaw of Torn must expect from any good womanof her class; what he must expect from Bertrade de Montfort when shelearned that Roger de Conde was Norman of Torn.
The outlaw had scarce passed out of sight upon the road to Derby ere thegirl, who still stood in an embrasure of the south tower, gazing withstrangely drawn, sad face up the road which had swallowed him, saw abody of soldiers galloping rapidly toward Tany from the south.
The King's banner waved above their heads, and intuitively, Joan de Tanyknew for whom they sought at her father's castle. Quickly she hastenedto the outer barbican that it might be she who answered their hailrather than one of the men-at-arms on watch there.
She had scarcely reached the ramparts of the outer gate ere the King'smen drew rein before the castle.
In reply to their hail, Joan de Tany asked their mission.
"We seek the outlaw, Norman of Torn, who hides now within this castle,"replied the officer.
"There be no outlaw here," replied the girl, "but, if you wish, you mayenter with half a dozen men and search the castle."
This the officer did and, when he had assured himself that Norman ofTorn was not within, an hour had passed, and Joan de Tany felt certainthat the Outlaw of Torn was too far ahead to be caught by the King'smen; so she said:
"There was one here just before you came who called himself though byanother name than Norman of Torn. Possibly it is he ye seek."
"Which way rode he?" cried the officer.
"Straight toward the west by the middle road," lied Joan de Tany. And,as the officer hurried from the castle and, with his men at his back,galloped furiously away toward the west, the girl sank down upon abench, pressing her little hands to her throbbing temples.
Then she opened the packet which Norman of Torn had handed her, andwithin found two others. In one of these was a beautiful jeweled locket,and on the outside were the initials JT, and on the inside the initialsNT; in the other was a golden hair ornament set with precious stones,and about it was wound a strand of her own silken tresses.
She looked long at the little trinkets and then, pressing them againsther lips, she threw herself face down upon an oaken bench, her litheyoung form racked with sobs.
She was indeed but a little girl chained by the inexorable bonds ofcaste to a false ideal. Birth and station spelled honor to her, andhonor, to the daughter of an English noble, was a mightier force eventhan love.
That Norman of Torn was an outlaw she might have forgiven, but that hewas, according to report, a low fellow of no birth placed an impassablebarrier between them.
For hours the girl lay sobbing upon the bench, whilst within her ragedthe mighty battle of the heart against the head.
Thus her mother found her, and kneeling beside her, and with her armsabout the girl's neck, tried to soothe her and to learn the cause ofher sorrow. Finally it came, poured from the flood gates of a sorrowingheart; that wave of bitter misery and hopelessness which not even amother's love could check.
"Joan, my dear daughter," cried Lady de Tany, "I sorrow with thee thatthy love has been cast upon so bleak and impossible a shore. But it bebetter that thou hast learnt the truth ere it were too late; for, takemy word upon it, Joan, the bitter humiliation such an alliance mustneeds have brought upon thee and thy father's house would soon havecooled thy love; nor could his have survived the sneers and affrontseven the menials would have put upon him."
"Oh, mother, but I love him so," moaned the girl. "I did not know howmuch until he had gone, and the King's officer had come to search forhim, and then the thought that all the power of a great throne and themightiest houses of an entire kingdom were turned in hatred against himraised the hot blood of anger within me and the knowledge of my lovesurged through all my being. Mother, thou canst not know the honor, andthe bravery, and the chivalry of the man as I do. Not since Arthur ofSilures kept his round table hath ridden forth upon English soil so truea knight as Norman of Torn.
"Couldst thou but have seen him fight, my mother, and witnessed thehonor of his treatment of thy daughter, and heard the tone of dignifiedrespect in which he spoke of women thou wouldst have loved him, too,and felt that outlaw though he be, he is still more a gentleman thannine-tenths the nobles of England."
"But his birth, my daughter!" argued the Lady de Tany. "Some even saythat the gall marks of his brass collar still showeth upon his neck, andothers that he knoweth not himself the name of his own father, nor hadhe any mother."
Ah, but this was the mighty argument! Naught could the girl say tojustify so heinous a crime as low birth. What a man did in those roughcruel days might be forgotten and forgiven but the sins of his motheror his grandfather in not being of noble blood, no matter howsoeverwickedly attained, he might never overcome or live down.
Torn by conflicting emotions, the poor girl dragged herself to her ownapartment and there upon a restless, sleepless couch, beset by wild,impossible hopes, and vain, torturing regrets, she fought out the long,bitter night; until toward morning she solved the problem of her miseryin the only way that seemed possible to her poor, tired, bleeding,little heart. When the rising sun shone through the narrow window, itfound Joan de Tany at peace with all about her; the carved golden hiltof the toy that had hung at her girdle protruded from her breast, and athin line of crimson ran across the snowy skin to a little pool upon thesheet beneath her.
And so the cruel hand of a mighty revenge had reached out to crushanother innocent victim.
The Outlaw of Torn Page 14