Beltane the Smith Part 45

"Now hither to me Walkyn, Giles and Roger. Ye do remember how upon a time we met a white friar in the green that was a son of G.o.d--they call him Brother Martin? Ye do remember brave Friar Martin?"

"Aye, lord, we mind him!" quoth the three.

"Ye will remember how that we did, within the green, aid him to bury a dead maid, young and fair and tender--yet done to shameful death?"

"Verily master--a n.o.ble lady!" growled Walkyn.

"And very young!" said Roger.

"And very comely, alas!" added Giles.

"So now do I tell thee that, as she died--s.n.a.t.c.hed out of life by brutal hands--so, at this hour, even as we stand idle here, other maids do suffer and die within Belsaye town. To-day, as we stand here, good Friar Martin lieth within the noisome water-dungeons where rats do frolic--"

"Ha! the pale fox!" growled Walkyn. "b.l.o.o.d.y Gui of Allerdale that I do live but to slay one day with Pertolepe the Red--"

"Thou dost remember, Roger, how, within the Keep at Belsaye I sware an oath unto Sir Gui? So now--this very hour--must we march on Belsaye that this my oath may be kept." But here a murmur arose that hummed from rank to rank; heads were shaken and gruff voices spake on this wise:

"Belsaye? 'Tis a long day's march to Belsaye--"

"'Tis a very strong city--very strongly guarded--"

"And we muster scarce two hundred--"

"The walls be high and we have no ladders, or engines for battery and storm--"

"Forsooth, and we have here much booty already--"

"Ha--booty!" cried Beltane, "there spake tall Orson, methinks!"

"Aye," cried another voice, loud and defiant, "and we be no soldiers, master, to march 'gainst walled cities; look'ee. Foresters are we, to live secure and free within the merry greenwood. Is't not so, good fellows?"

"And there spake Jenkyn o' the Ford!" quoth Beltane. "Stand forth Orson, and Jenkyn with thee--so. Now hearken again. Within Belsaye men --aye, and women too! have endured the torment, Orson. To-day, at sundown, a n.o.ble man doth burn, Jenkyn."

"Why, look'ee, master," spake Jenkyn, bold-voiced yet blenching from Beltane's unswerving gaze, "look'ee, good master, here is no matter for honest woodsmen, look'ee--"

"Aye," nodded tall Orson, "'tis no matter of ours, so wherefore should us meddle?"

"And ye have swords, I see," quoth Beltane, "and thereto hands wherewith to fight, yet do ye speak, forsooth, of booty, and fain would lie hid secure within the green? So be it! Bring forth the record, Giles, and strike me out the names of Orson and Jenkyn, the which, being shaped like men, are yet no men. Give therefore unto each his share of booty and let him go hence." So saying, Beltane turned and looked upon the close-drawn ranks that murmured and muttered no more.

Quoth he:

"Now, and there be any here among us so faint-hearted--so unworthy as this Orson and Jenkyn, that do hold treasure and safety above flesh and blood--if there be any here, who, regarding his own base body, will strike no blow for these distressed--why, let him now go forth of this our company. O men! O men of Pentavalon, do ye not hear them, these woeful ones--do ye not hear them crying to us from searing flame, from dungeon and gibbet--do ye not hear? Is there one, that, remembering the torments endured of groaning bodies, the dire wrongs of innocence shamed and trampled in the mire--lives there a man that will not adventure life and limb and all he doth possess that such things may be smitten hence and made an end of for all time? But if such there be, let him now stand forth with Orson here, and Jenkyn o' the Ford!"

Thus spake Beltane quick and pa.s.sionate and thereafter paused, waiting their answer; but no man spake or moved, only from their grim ranks a growl went up ominous and deep, and eyes grown bright and fierce glared upon tall Orson and Jenkyn o' the Ford, who shuffled with their feet and fumbled with their hands and knew not where to look.

"'Tis well, 'tis well, good comrades all!" spake Beltane in a while, "this night, mayhap, shall we, each one, achieve great things. Go now, dig ye a pit and therein hide such treasure as ye will and thereafter arm ye at points, for in the hour we march. Eric, see each doth bear with him food, and Giles, look that their quivers be full."

So saying, Beltane turned and coming to his sleeping-place, forthwith began to don his armour. And presently he was aware of Orson and Jenkyn standing without the cave and each with look downcast; and eke they fumbled with their hands and shuffled with their feet and fain were to speak yet found no word. But at last spake Jenkyn humbly and on this wise:

"Master, here come I, look'ee, with Orson that is my comrade, look'ee--"

"Nay, go get thee to thy 'booty'!" says Beltane, busied with his armour.

"Nay, but look'ee master, we be--"

"No men!" quoth Beltane, "thus would I be free of ye both--so get you hence."

"But good master," spake Orson, "we do ha' changed our minds--it do be a direful thing to burn, and if they do ha' tormented maids--"

"'Tis no matter of thine," quoth Beltane. "So go thy ways and meddle not."

"But master, look'ee now, we be stout men, and look'ee, we be full of l.u.s.t to fight--O master, let us go! Kneel, Orson, bend--bend thy long shanks, look'ee--" and forthwith on their knees fell Jenkyn and tall Orson with pleading eyes and eager hands outstretched.

"O master, look'ee, let us go!"

"Aye, we do ha' changed our minds, master!"

"Then be it so!" said Beltane, "and I pray ye be ever faithful to your minds!" Then took they Beltane's hand to kiss and thereafter up they sprang and went rejoicing to their company.

And, within the hour, mail and bascinet agleam, the two hundred and twenty and four marched forth of the hollow with step blithe and free, and swung away through the green till the sound of voice and laughter, the ring and clash of their going was died away and none remained, save where, cross-legged upon the sward, his open wallet on his knee, the round and buxom Pardoner sat to cherish a bruised arm and to stare from earth to heaven and from heaven to earth with eyes wider and rounder even than was their wont and custom.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

HOW THEY CAME TO BELSAYE

Through broad glades deep-hid within the wild; by shady alleyway and leafy track they held their march south and by east, a close, well-ordered company striding long and free and waking the solitudes to a blithe babblement of laughing echoes. And who among them all so merry as Giles o' the Bow at the head of his st.u.r.dy archers? Oft trolling some merry stave or turning with some quip or j.a.pe upon his tongue, but with eyes quick to mark the rhythmic swing of broad, mail-clad shoulders, eyes critical, yet eyes of pride. Who so grimly eager as mighty Walkyn, his heavy axe lightly a-swing, his long legs schooling themselves to his comrade's slower time and pace? Who so utterly content as Black Roger, oft glancing from Beltane's figure in the van to the files of his pike-men, their slung shields agleam, their spears well sloped? And who so gloomy and thoughtful as Beltane, unmindful of the youthful knight who went beside him, and scarce heeding his soft-spoke words until his gaze by chance lighted upon the young knight's armour that gleamed in the sun 'neath rich surcoat; armour of the newest fashion of link, reinforced by plates of steel, gorget and breast, elbow and knee, and with cunningly jointed sollerets. Moreover, his shield was small and light according with the new fashion, and bare the blazon of two hands, tight clasped, and the legend: "Semper Fidelis."

Now viewing all this with a smith's knowledgful eye, quick to note the costly excellence of this equipment, Beltane forthwith brake silence:

"How do men name thee, sir knight?"

Hereupon, after some delay, the young knight made answer:

"Messire, the motto I bear upon my shield is a good motto methinks. So shalt call me Fidelis an ye will, my lord."

"So be it, Sir Faithful," saying which Beltane fell to deep thought again.

"I pray you, my lord," quoth Fidelis, "wherefore so sad, so full of gloom and thought?"

"I seek how we may win through the gates of Belsaye, Sir Fidelis, for they go strongly guarded night and day; yet this day, ere sunset, ope to us they must. But how--how?"

"My lord," spake Sir Fidelis, "I have heard say that few may go where many oft-times may not. Let first some two or three adventure it, hid 'neath some close disguise--"

"A disguise!" cried Beltane, "Ha--a disguise. 'Tis well bethought, good Fidelis. Forsooth, a disguise! And 'twill be market day!" Thereafter Beltane strode on, head bent in frowning thought, nor spake again for a s.p.a.ce. And ever the files swung along behind in time to a marching song carolled blithe in the rich, sweet voice of Giles. At length Beltane raised his head and beholding the sun well-risen, halted his company beside a stream that flowed athwart their way, and sitting thereby, summoned to him the four--namely, Walkyn and Roger, Giles and Eric of the wry neck; and while they ate together, they held counsel on this wise:

BELTANE. "How think ye of this our adventure, comrades all?"