CHAPTER VI. HOW SAMKIN AYLWARD WAGERED HIS FEATHER-BED.
He was a middle-sized man, of most massive and robust build, with anarching chest and extraordinary breadth of shoulder. His shaven face wasas brown as a hazel-nut, tanned and dried by the weather, with harsh,well-marked features, which were not improved by a long white scar whichstretched from the corner of his left nostril to the angle of the jaw.His eyes were bright and searching, with something of menace and ofauthority in their quick glitter, and his mouth was firm-set and hard,as befitted one who was wont to set his face against danger. A straightsword by his side and a painted long-bow jutting over his shoulderproclaimed his profession, while his scarred brigandine of chain-mailand his dinted steel cap showed that he was no holiday soldier, but onewho was even now fresh from the wars. A white surcoat with the lionof St. George in red upon the centre covered his broad breast, while asprig of new-plucked broom at the side of his head-gear gave a touch ofgayety and grace to his grim, war-worn equipment.
"Ha!" he cried, blinking like an owl in the sudden glare. "Good evento you, comrades! Hola! a woman, by my soul!" and in an instant he hadclipped Dame Eliza round the waist and was kissing her violently. Hiseye happening to wander upon the maid, however, he instantly abandonedthe mistress and danced off after the other, who scurried in confusionup one of the ladders, and dropped the heavy trap-door upon her pursuer.He then turned back and saluted the landlady once more with the utmostrelish and satisfaction.
"La petite is frightened," said he. "Ah, c'est l'amour, l'amour! Cursethis trick of French, which will stick to my throat. I must wash it outwith some good English ale. By my hilt! camarades, there is no drop ofFrench blood in my body, and I am a true English bowman, Samkin Aylwardby name; and I tell you, mes amis, that it warms my very heart-roots toset my feet on the dear old land once more. When I came off the galleyat Hythe, this very day, I down on my bones, and I kissed the good brownearth, as I kiss thee now, ma belle, for it was eight long years sinceI had seen it. The very smell of it seemed life to me. But where are mysix rascals? Hola, there! En avant!"
At the order, six men, dressed as common drudges, marched solemnlyinto the room, each bearing a huge bundle upon his head. They formed inmilitary line, while the soldier stood in front of them with stern eyes,checking off their several packages.
"Number one--a French feather-bed with the two counter-panes of whitesendall," said he.
"Here, worthy sir," answered the first of the bearers, laying a greatpackage down in the corner.
"Number two--seven ells of red Turkey cloth and nine ells of cloth ofgold. Put it down by the other. Good dame, I prythee give each of thesemen a bottrine of wine or a jack of ale. Three--a full piece of whiteGenoan velvet with twelve ells of purple silk. Thou rascal, there isdirt on the hem! Thou hast brushed it against some wall, coquin!"
"Not I, most worthy sir," cried the carrier, shrinking away from thefierce eyes of the bowman.
"I say yes, dog! By the three kings! I have seen a man gasp out his lastbreath for less. Had you gone through the pain and unease that I havedone to earn these things you would be at more care. I swear by my tenfinger-bones that there is not one of them that hath not cost its weightin French blood! Four--an incense-boat, a ewer of silver, a gold buckleand a cope worked in pearls. I found them, camarades, at the Church ofSt. Denis in the harrying of Narbonne, and I took them away with me lestthey fall into the hands of the wicked. Five--a cloak of fur turnedup with minever, a gold goblet with stand and cover, and a box ofrose-colored sugar. See that you lay them together. Six--a box ofmonies, three pounds of Limousine gold-work, a pair of boots, silvertagged, and, lastly, a store of naping linen. So, the tally is complete!Here is a groat apiece, and you may go."
"Go whither, worthy sir?" asked one of the carriers.
"Whither? To the devil if ye will. What is it to me? Now, ma belle, tosupper. A pair of cold capons, a mortress of brawn, or what you will,with a flask or two of the right Gascony. I have crowns in my pouch,my sweet, and I mean to spend them. Bring in wine while the food isdressing. Buvons my brave lads; you shall each empty a stoup with me."
Here was an offer which the company in an English inn at that or anyother date are slow to refuse. The flagons were re-gathered and cameback with the white foam dripping over their edges. Two of the woodmenand three of the laborers drank their portions off hurriedly and troopedoff together, for their homes were distant and the hour late. Theothers, however, drew closer, leaving the place of honor to the rightof the gleeman to the free-handed new-comer. He had thrown off his steelcap and his brigandine, and had placed them with his sword, his quiverand his painted long-bow, on the top of his varied heap of plunder inthe corner. Now, with his thick and somewhat bowed legs stretched infront of the blaze, his green jerkin thrown open, and a great quartpot held in his corded fist, he looked the picture of comfort and ofgood-fellowship. His hard-set face had softened, and the thick crop ofcrisp brown curls which had been hidden by his helmet grew low upon hismassive neck. He might have been forty years of age, though hard toiland harder pleasure had left their grim marks upon his features. Alleynehad ceased painting his pied merlin, and sat, brush in hand, staringwith open eyes at a type of man so strange and so unlike any whom he hadmet. Men had been good or had been bad in his catalogue, but here was aman who was fierce one instant and gentle the next, with a curse on hislips and a smile in his eye. What was to be made of such a man as that?
It chanced that the soldier looked up and saw the questioning glancewhich the young clerk threw upon him. He raised his flagon and drank tohim, with a merry flash of his white teeth.
"A toi, mon garcon," he cried. "Hast surely never seen a man-at-arms,that thou shouldst stare so?"
"I never have," said Alleyne frankly, "though I have oft heard talk oftheir deeds."
"By my hilt!" cried the other, "if you were to cross the narrow sea youwould find them as thick as bees at a tee-hole. Couldst not shoot abolt down any street of Bordeaux, I warrant, but you would pink archer,squire, or knight. There are more breastplates than gaberdines to beseen, I promise you."
"And where got you all these pretty things?" asked Hordle John, pointingat the heap in the corner.
"Where there is as much more waiting for any brave lad to pick it up.Where a good man can always earn a good wage, and where he need lookupon no man as his paymaster, but just reach his hand out and helphimself. Aye, it is a goodly and a proper life. And here I drink tomine old comrades, and the saints be with them! Arouse all together,mes enfants, under pain of my displeasure. To Sir Claude Latour and theWhite Company!"
"Sir Claude Latour and the White Company!" shouted the travellers,draining off their goblets.
"Well quaffed, mes braves! It is for me to fill your cups again, sinceyou have drained them to my dear lads of the white jerkin. Hola! monange, bring wine and ale. How runs the old stave?--
We'll drink all together To the gray goose feather And the land where the gray goose flew."
He roared out the catch in a harsh, unmusical voice, and ended with ashout of laughter. "I trust that I am a better bowman than a minstrel,"said he.
"Methinks I have some remembrance of the lilt," remarked the gleeman,running his fingers over the strings. "Hoping that it will give thee nooffence, most holy sir"--with a vicious snap at Alleyne--"and with thekind permit of the company, I will even venture upon it."
Many a time in the after days Alleyne Edricson seemed to see that scene,for all that so many which were stranger and more stirring were soonto crowd upon him. The fat, red-faced gleeman, the listening group, thearcher with upraised finger beating in time to the music, and the hugesprawling figure of Hordle John, all thrown into red light and blackshadow by the flickering fire in the centre--memory was to come oftenlovingly back to it. At the time he was lost in admiration at the deftway in which the jongleur disguised the loss of his two missing strings,and the lusty, hearty fashion in which he trolled out his little balladof the outland bowme
n, which ran in some such fashion as this:
What of the bow? The bow was made in England: Of true wood, of yew wood, The wood of English bows; So men who are free Love the old yew tree And the land where the yew tree grows.
What of the cord? The cord was made in England: A rough cord, a tough cord, A cord that bowmen love; So we'll drain our jacks To the English flax And the land where the hemp was wove.
What of the shaft? The shaft was cut in England: A long shaft, a strong shaft, Barbed and trim and true; So we'll drink all together To the gray goose feather And the land where the gray goose flew.
What of the men? The men were bred in England: The bowman--the yeoman-- The lads of dale and fell Here's to you--and to you; To the hearts that are true And the land where the true hearts dwell.
"Well sung, by my hilt!" shouted the archer in high delight. "Many anight have I heard that song, both in the old war-time and after in thedays of the White Company, when Black Simon of Norwich would lead thestave, and four hundred of the best bowmen that ever drew string wouldcome roaring in upon the chorus. I have seen old John Hawkwood, the samewho has led half the Company into Italy, stand laughing in his beard ashe heard it, until his plates rattled again. But to get the full smackof it ye must yourselves be English bowmen, and be far off upon anoutland soil."
Whilst the song had been singing Dame Eliza and the maid had placed aboard across two trestles, and had laid upon it the knife, the spoon,the salt, the tranchoir of bread, and finally the smoking dish whichheld the savory supper. The archer settled himself to it like one whohad known what it was to find good food scarce; but his tongue stillwent as merrily as his teeth.
"It passes me," he cried, "how all you lusty fellows can bide scratchingyour backs at home when there are such doings over the seas. Look atme--what have I to do? It is but the eye to the cord, the cord to theshaft, and the shaft to the mark. There is the whole song of it. It isbut what you do yourselves for pleasure upon a Sunday evening at theparish village butts."
"And the wage?" asked a laborer.
"You see what the wage brings," he answered. "I eat of the best, and Idrink deep. I treat my friend, and I ask no friend to treat me. I clapa silk gown on my girl's back. Never a knight's lady shall be betterbetrimmed and betrinketed. How of all that, mon garcon? And how of theheap of trifles that you can see for yourselves in yonder corner? Theyare from the South French, every one, upon whom I have been makingwar. By my hilt! camarades, I think that I may let my plunder speak foritself."
"It seems indeed to be a goodly service," said the tooth-drawer.
"Tete bleu! yes, indeed. Then there is the chance of a ransom. Why, lookyou, in the affair at Brignais some four years back, when the companiesslew James of Bourbon, and put his army to the sword, there was scarce aman of ours who had not count, baron, or knight. Peter Karsdale, whowas but a common country lout newly brought over, with the English fleasstill hopping under his doublet, laid his great hands upon the SieurAmaury de Chatonville, who owns half Picardy, and had five thousandcrowns out of him, with his horse and harness. 'Tis true that a Frenchwench took it all off Peter as quick as the Frenchman paid it; but whatthen? By the twang of string! it would be a bad thing if money was notmade to be spent; and how better than on woman--eh, ma belle?"
"It would indeed be a bad thing if we had not our brave archers to bringwealth and kindly customs into the country," quoth Dame Eliza, on whomthe soldier's free and open ways had made a deep impression.
"A toi, ma cherie!" said he, with his hand over his heart. "Hola! thereis la petite peeping from behind the door. A toi, aussi, ma petite! MonDieu! but the lass has a good color!"
"There is one thing, fair sir," said the Cambridge student in hispiping voice, "which I would fain that you would make more clear. AsI understand it, there was peace made at the town of Bretigny some sixyears back between our most gracious monarch and the King of the French.This being so, it seems most passing strange that you should talk soloudly of war and of companies when there is no quarrel between theFrench and us."
"Meaning that I lie," said the archer, laying down his knife.
"May heaven forfend!" cried the student hastily. "_Magna est veritas sedrara_, which means in the Latin tongue that archers are all honorablemen. I come to you seeking knowledge, for it is my trade to learn."
"I fear that you are yet a 'prentice to that trade," quoth the soldier;"for there is no child over the water but could answer what you ask.Know then that though there may be peace between our own provinces andthe French, yet within the marches of France there is always war, forthe country is much divided against itself, and is furthermore harriedby bands of flayers, skinners, Brabacons, tardvenus, and the rest ofthem. When every man's grip is on his neighbor's throat, and everyfive-sous-piece of a baron is marching with tuck of drum to fight whomhe will, it would be a strange thing if five hundred brave English boyscould not pick up a living. Now that Sir John Hawkwood hath gone withthe East Anglian lads and the Nottingham woodmen into the service of theMarquis of Montferrat to fight against the Lord of Milan, there are butten score of us left, yet I trust that I may be able to bring some backwith me to fill the ranks of the White Company. By the tooth of Peter!it would be a bad thing if I could not muster many a Hamptonshire manwho would be ready to strike in under the red flag of St. George, andthe more so if Sir Nigel Loring, of Christchurch, should don hauberkonce more and take the lead of us."
"Ah, you would indeed be in luck then," quoth a woodman; "for it is saidthat, setting aside the prince, and mayhap good old Sir John Chandos,there was not in the whole army a man of such tried courage."
"It is sooth, every word of it," the archer answered. "I have seen himwith these two eyes in a stricken field, and never did man carry himselfbetter. Mon Dieu! yes, ye would not credit it to look at him, or tohearken to his soft voice, but from the sailing from Orwell down tothe foray to Paris, and that is clear twenty years, there was not askirmish, onfall, sally, bushment, escalado or battle, but Sir Nigel wasin the heart of it. I go now to Christchurch with a letter to him fromSir Claude Latour to ask him if he will take the place of Sir JohnHawkwood; and there is the more chance that he will if I bring one ortwo likely men at my heels. What say you, woodman: wilt leave the bucksto loose a shaft at a nobler mark?"
The forester shook his head. "I have wife and child at Emery Down,"quoth he; "I would not leave them for such a venture."
"You, then, young sir?" asked the archer.
"Nay, I am a man of peace," said Alleyne Edricson. "Besides, I haveother work to do."
"Peste!" growled the soldier, striking his flagon on the board until thedishes danced again. "What, in the name of the devil, hath come overthe folk? Why sit ye all moping by the fireside, like crows round a deadhorse, when there is man's work to be done within a few short leagues ofye? Out upon you all, as a set of laggards and hang-backs! By my hilt Ibelieve that the men of England are all in France already, and that whatis left behind are in sooth the women dressed up in their paltocks andhosen."
"Archer," quoth Hordle John, "you have lied more than once and more thantwice; for which, and also because I see much in you to dislike, I amsorely tempted to lay you upon your back."
"By my hilt! then, I have found a man at last!" shouted the bowman."And, 'fore God, you are a better man than I take you for if you can layme on my back, mon garcon. I have won the ram more times than there aretoes to my feet, and for seven long years I have found no man in theCompany who could make my jerkin dusty."
"We have had enough bobance and boasting," said Hordle John, rising andthrowing off his doublet. "I will show you that there are better menleft in England than ever went thieving to France."
"Pasques Dieu!" cried the archer, loosening his jerkin, and eyeing hisfoem
an over with the keen glance of one who is a judge of manhood."I have only once before seen such a body of a man. By your leave, myred-headed friend, I should be right sorry to exchange buffets withyou; and I will allow that there is no man in the Company who wouldpull against you on a rope; so let that be a salve to your pride. Onthe other hand I should judge that you have led a life of ease for somemonths back, and that my muscle is harder than your own. I am ready towager upon myself against you if you are not afeard."
"Afeard, thou lurden!" growled big John. "I never saw the face yet ofthe man that I was afeard of. Come out, and we shall see who is thebetter man."
"But the wager?"
"I have nought to wager. Come out for the love and the lust of thething."
"Nought to wager!" cried the soldier. "Why, you have that which I covetabove all things. It is that big body of thine that I am after. See,now, mon garcon. I have a French feather-bed there, which I have been atpains to keep these years back. I had it at the sacking of Issodun, andthe King himself hath not such a bed. If you throw me, it is thine; but,if I throw you, then you are under a vow to take bow and bill and hiewith me to France, there to serve in the White Company as long as we beenrolled."
"A fair wager!" cried all the travellers, moving back their benches andtrestles, so as to give fair field for the wrestlers.
"Then you may bid farewell to your bed, soldier," said Hordle John.
"Nay; I shall keep the bed, and I shall have you to France in spiteof your teeth, and you shall live to thank me for it. How shall it be,then, mon enfant? Collar and elbow, or close-lock, or catch how youcan?"
"To the devil with your tricks," said John, opening and shutting hisgreat red hands. "Stand forth, and let me clip thee."
"Shalt clip me as best you can then," quoth the archer, moving out intothe open space, and keeping a most wary eye upon his opponent. He hadthrown off his green jerkin, and his chest was covered only by a pinksilk jupon, or undershirt, cut low in the neck and sleeveless. HordleJohn was stripped from his waist upwards, and his huge body, with hisgreat muscles swelling out like the gnarled roots of an oak, toweredhigh above the soldier. The other, however, though near a foot shorter,was a man of great strength; and there was a gloss upon his white skinwhich was wanting in the heavier limbs of the renegade monk. He wasquick on his feet, too, and skilled at the game; so that it was clear,from the poise of head and shine of eye, that he counted the chances tobe in his favor. It would have been hard that night, through the wholelength of England, to set up a finer pair in face of each other.
Big John stood waiting in the centre with a sullen, menacing eye, andhis red hair in a bristle, while the archer paced lightly and swiftly tothe right and the left with crooked knee and hands advanced. Then with asudden dash, so swift and fierce that the eye could scarce follow it, heflew in upon his man and locked his leg round him. It was a grip that,between men of equal strength, would mean a fall; but Hordle John torehim off from him as he might a rat, and hurled him across the room, sothat his head cracked up against the wooden wall.
"Ma foi!" cried the bowman, passing his fingers through his curls, "youwere not far from the feather-bed then, mon gar. A little more and thisgood hostel would have a new window."
Nothing daunted, he approached his man once more, but this time withmore caution than before. With a quick feint he threw the other off hisguard, and then, bounding upon him, threw his legs round his waist andhis arms round his bull-neck, in the hope of bearing him to the groundwith the sudden shock. With a bellow of rage, Hordle John squeezed himlimp in his huge arms; and then, picking him up, cast him down upon thefloor with a force which might well have splintered a bone or two,had not the archer with the most perfect coolness clung to the other'sforearms to break his fall. As it was, he dropped upon his feet andkept his balance, though it sent a jar through his frame which set everyjoint a-creaking. He bounded back from his perilous foeman; but theother, heated by the bout, rushed madly after him, and so gave thepractised wrestler the very vantage for which he had planned. As bigJohn flung himself upon him, the archer ducked under the great red handsthat clutched for him, and, catching his man round the thighs, hurledhim over his shoulder--helped as much by his own mad rush as by thetrained strength of the heave. To Alleyne's eye, it was as if John hadtaken unto himself wings and flown. As he hurtled through the air, withgiant limbs revolving, the lad's heart was in his mouth; for surely noman ever yet had such a fall and came scathless out of it. In truth,hardy as the man was, his neck had been assuredly broken had he notpitched head first on the very midriff of the drunken artist, who wasslumbering so peacefully in the corner, all unaware of these stirringdoings. The luckless limner, thus suddenly brought out from his dreams,sat up with a piercing yell, while Hordle John bounded back into thecircle almost as rapidly as he had left it.
"One more fall, by all the saints!" he cried, throwing out his arms.
"Not I," quoth the archer, pulling on his clothes, "I have come well outof the business. I would sooner wrestle with the great bear of Navarre."
"It was a trick," cried John.
"Aye was it. By my ten finger-bones! it is a trick that will add aproper man to the ranks of the Company."
"Oh, for that," said the other, "I count it not a fly; for I hadpromised myself a good hour ago that I should go with thee, since thelife seems to be a goodly and proper one. Yet I would fain have had thefeather-bed."
"I doubt it not, mon ami," quoth the archer, going back to his tankard."Here is to thee, lad, and may we be good comrades to each other! But,hola! what is it that ails our friend of the wrathful face?"
The unfortunate limner had been sitting up rubbing himself ruefullyand staring about with a vacant gaze, which showed that he knew neitherwhere he was nor what had occurred to him. Suddenly, however, a flashof intelligence had come over his sodden features, and he rose andstaggered for the door. "'Ware the ale!" he said in a hoarse whisper,shaking a warning finger at the company. "Oh, holy Virgin, 'ware theale!" and slapping his hands to his injury, he flitted off into thedarkness, amid a shout of laughter, in which the vanquished joined asmerrily as the victor. The remaining forester and the two laborerswere also ready for the road, and the rest of the company turned to theblankets which Dame Eliza and the maid had laid out for them upon thefloor. Alleyne, weary with the unwonted excitements of the day, was soonin a deep slumber broken only by fleeting visions of twittering legs,cursing beggars, black robbers, and the many strange folk whom he hadmet at the "Pied Merlin."
The White Company Page 6