Cedric, the Forester Part 6

With this speech, he made a low bow to the King and another to the a.s.sembled knights, and, loosening his sword-belt, handed it with his scabbard and his outer cloak to a squire.

Then I found voice for a thought that had been boiling within me.

"'Twere well, my lord," I said to the King, "to have this champion searched for hidden armor. I have grievous knowledge that the Carletons scruple not to gain that vantage."

Some of the friends of Mountjoy raised a shout:

"Ay! Well spoken! Let him be searched."

The King quelled the tumult with a royal gesture.

"Sir Hugh of Leicester," he said to an aged knight of his train, "make search of both these champions, and tell us whether they wear other arms or armor than the terms permit."

In the meantime my father had thrown aside his cloak and belt; and his sword being far heavier than De Latiere's, had received the loan of a lighter weapon from one of the King's attendants. Sir Hugh approached and lightly struck the shoulders and breast and waist of both the combatants, and announced to the King that neither carried other weapons of offense or defense than the swords in their hands.

Thereupon a s.p.a.ce some twelve paces across was cleared in the center of the hall, and Sir Philip and Lord Mountjoy stood facing one another, awaiting the word.

On a signal from the King, the herald shouted, and instantly the blades struck fire, and the champions whirled about one another in mortal combat. The Frenchman danced and dodged with a quickness that minded me, even then, of the beast he so resembled. My father had much ado to continue facing him; and soon 'twas plain to see that the Carleton champion was such a master of fence as would find few to equal him in all England. His blade so flashed in thrust and parry that the eye could not follow its motions; and my father, of whom always I had thought as the finest of swordsmen, soon had all he could do, and more, in defending his breast from the a.s.sault, and had no instant's leisure to threaten his enemy.

Half a minute had not pa.s.sed ere the Frenchman's slashing blade drew blood from the Mountjoy's arm, then from his shoulder; and for one black instant methought the blow was mortal. But for minute after minute, my father fought on, with lips tight closed and eyes that ever followed the hand of his enemy. Then I wondered if De Latiere, with all his leaps and runs, would not tire himself at the last, and slowing in his thrusts, give my father's slower spent strength its chance for victory. But again I saw how fast the Mountjoy bled from the two wounds he already had; and this hope flitted.

Then truly, in bitterness of spirit, did I perceive how false and cruel is our vaunted trial by wager of battle. Here was my father, a good man and true, fighting to defend the life of an innocent youth; and this dancing Frenchman, to whom the sword was as the wand of a juggler, would soon kill him before our eyes. That Cedric, the forester, was guiltless of the treacherous deed with which he stood charged altered not a whit the devilish skill of the champion who fought to see him hang. And if De Latiere overcame my father at the last, and left him dead at the feet of the King, the tale that I had told would be no whit less true for such an outcome. Verily at that moment my eyes were opened, and thoughts came to me that shall remain while yet I live.

Now the end fast approached. Blood streamed from my father's wounds, and he breathed fast and thickly. He scarce moved from his tracks save ever to turn and face his ape-like enemy, whose blade flashed as swiftly as ever, and in whose eyes gleamed a look of deadly purpose.

My eyes could never follow the stroke which brought to a close this desperate, unequal combat. What I saw was that the Frenchman's blade had pierced my father's breast. Then-all the Saints be thanked!-one last fierce blow from the Champion of Mountjoy.

This instant was the first since the duel began when De Latiere's matchless guarding had not fenced his body from my father's thrust. As quick as the light's rebound when it strikes the surface of still water was the Mountjoy's return of the stroke he had received. The next moment both the champions lay on the floor; and King and knights and lords rushed forward to their succor.

De Latiere was thrust clean through the body; and he never moved nor spoke. But my father's wound, though grievous, it now appeared was far from mortal, his enemy's blade not having deeply pierced him. Now he raised himself on his arm and claimed the victory for Mountjoy and the right.

Ten days thereafter, we bore home the Champion of Mountjoy in a sumptuous litter, which had been the gift of the King himself. Near the gentle palfrey which bore its van, I rode on my faithful little mare, for now we had no fear of lurking enemies. By the open side of the litter, and oft in gay and heartening speech with him who lay on the silken pillows within, rode Cedric of Pelham Wood, on the captured war-horse of Carleton and wearing, full well and bravely, a new-made suit of the Mountjoy purple and gold.

CHAPTER V-THE FESTIVAL OF THE ARCHERS

Young Cedric, the forester, who was now my constant companion, was walking with me on the path that led by the Millfield. There, since the raising of the siege of Castle Mountjoy, Old Marvin, the archer, and his gray-haired dame had had their cottage and half dozen acres of mowing and tillage. 'Twas on a fair December morning, when yet no snow had come. The h.o.a.r frost still covered all the western slopes, and the wood-smoke that came down from a clearing in the forest above did sweeten the air more to my liking than all the scents and powders that the traders bring from Araby.

We had had an hour at the foils, wherein I was master, and another with the cross-bow. And at this good sport Cedric did show such skill that once more I spoke my wonder at the magic of it. He had no more than my own sixteen years; and when 'mongst men and soldiers, he but seldom lifted his voice; but his handling of this weapon would honor any man of middle life who had spent more years with the bow in his hands than Cedric could count, all told.

"Cedric," I cried, "methinks Old Marvin himself could not best thee; and for thirty years he of all the Mountjoy archers hath borne the palm."

Cedric smiled, but shook his head.

"Mayhap Old Marvin knoweth a many things anent the placing of his bolt that have not yet come to me. My father, Elbert of Pelham Wood, who taught me what I know, hath often told me that with the long-bow one man and one only in all of England could best him,-and that one no other than Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest; but with the cross-bow, Marvin of Mountjoy could ever lesson him. And did not thou tell me that 'twas Old Marvin who laid low the Gray Wolf of Carleton, at the siege? 'Tis one thing to strike a fair bull's-eye on target, in broad daylight and quiet air, and another far to strike the throat of one's enemy in battle and by torchlight."

"Aye, and 'twas thou, Cedric, who struck down young Lionel of Carleton and two of his robber hounds of men-at-arms, in our fray in the woods but six weeks gone. Thy bolts did not then fly by guess or by luck, I trow."

Cedric smiled again, but had no words for this; and I went quickly on:

"I tell thee that when thou'rt my squire indeed, and I a knight in truth, and not by courtesy only, I'll have thee ever ride beside me with thy bow upon thy back, though thou shalt wear garments of velvet instead of Lincoln green and a good broadsword shall swing by thy side. Then can we strike down any caitiff from afar, if need be. And many a night when we make bivouac in the forest or on the moorlands we shall sup right royally on the hares or moorfowl which thy skill will provide, and snap our fingers at the inns and all the houses of the towns."

"'Tis a fair thought," sighed Cedric. "An oak-leaf bed in a glade, by a goodly stream, is ever more to my liking than any made in a dwelling, save in the wet or bitter weather. But, for Old Marvin now-Methinks 'twould please me well to shoot against him at archer match. Were I bested by such as he, 'twould be no honor lost."

"By my faith!" I shouted, "such a match we will have. 'Twill be a fair sight indeed to see two archers such as thou and Marvin at the marks.

We'll have a festival for all the friends of Mountjoy, n.o.ble and simple, and roast an ox for their regalement. Since the Shrewsbury court and the battle trial that freed thee and me from all charges of foul play in the matter of Lionel of Carleton, and now that my father is nearly well of his wounds, the Mountjoys have reason enough to rejoice. We'll have a day to be remembered."

Just then Old Marvin, who did chop for firewood a fallen yew in the field near by, caught sight of us, and, dropping his ax, came forward to greet us.

"A fine morning for the woods, Sir d.i.c.kon," he said, doffing his headgear to me and nodding to Cedric. "Could not one get the leeward of a buck on such a day?"

"Aye," I answered, full the while of my new thought, "and if either thou or Cedric here did come within a hundred paces, we should eat on the morrow of a fair pasty of venison. But what say'st thou, Marvin to an archer match with Cedric? Thou knowest he is newly in our service, but that he hath an eye for the homing of his bolt. Of all the Mountjoy men he alone is worthy to shoot against thee."

"Aye," cried Marvin, eagerly. "I have heard much of his skill. 'Tis said that for such a youth he shoots most wondrous well. For twenty years no Mountjoy hath striven with me at tourney; and a fair day at the marks would like me well. Will there be a prize, think'st thou?"

"Aye, that there will be," I returned full gaily, for now methought the day promised such sport as we had not had for years; and I was fair lifted up with the picture of it that filled my mind. "I'll make my father give to him who wins the day the best milch cow in all the Mountjoy barns. How likest thou that, Marvin? Could'st thou use such a beast on thy little farm?"

"Marry! Well could I," answered Marvin, his eyes shining as brightly as a youth's. "My dame did tell me yesterday 'tis what we most do lack."

"And I," put in Cedric, "should any wondrous luck or chance bring the prize to me, could give her to my father. He hath a little meadow by his cottage in Pelham Wood where a cow could find sweet pasture, and, in the cot, three little ones who'd thrive on the milk. Marvin, be sure I'll take the prize from thee if ever I can."

"An thou winnest it, thou'lt shoot well, Cedric lad," answered Old Marvin with a grin. "'Tis now full many years since I found any man to best me."

But now I caught sight of my father, Lord Mountjoy, astride the palfrey he rode in those days of recovering from the hurts he had at Shrewsbury, and riding toward the clearing on the hill where the woodmen piled the logs for our fireplace burning. I waved and beckoned to him till he paused and turned his horse's head toward us. In a moment we three stood about him and told of our plans for the archery match. Most of the words were mine, but Cedric and Old Marvin himself were not a whit less eager.

Soon I had drawn from Lord Mountjoy the promise that we should have our will, and that the archer festival should be held in the Mountjoy lands in three days' time.

But, hot and eager as I was, I noted even then a backwardness in my father's answers that puzzled me. 'Twas not like him to care for the gift of a cow or a colt to any of his faithful retainers; and I knew he loved a fair match at the targets as well as any. After we had said "good day" to Marvin, and as Cedric and I walked down the road toward the wood on either side of his horse, Father gave utterance to his worrying thought.

"d.i.c.kon, 'tis but natural at thy years to be eager and headlong in thy thinking; but has the thought not come to thee at all that this match that thou dost plan so joyously may end in sorrow to thy old instructor in arms?"

"How so?" I questioned,-but even in the saying, I saw a glimmer of his meaning.

"For thirty years and more Old Marvin hath been leading archer of Mountjoy. He nears three score and ten; and may the saints bespeak him many years of peace after all the toils and perils he hath undergone for our house. Mayhap his eye is as clear and his hand as true as ever; but I have seen somewhat of the shooting of Cedric here; and it may be that he'll best Old Marvin at the thing which is his dearest pride. Should that happen, canst thou warrant Marvin will not carry home a bitter heart from thy festival?"

"Oh, Father! Surely thou dost jest. Marvin is no child to grieve at being beaten in fair play, should that chance befall him. I warrant we'll see never a sign of it."

"'Tis true enough," said my father slowly, "we'll never see a sign of it; but the bitterness may be there ne'ertheless. But I bethink me now,-get John o' the Wallfield or some other Mountjoy archer to make a third. Then Marvin can be but second at worst, and 'twill make a fairer show for all these friends we are to bid come to our fete. John is ever a hopeful youth, and will shoot as though his life depended on it."

Saying thus, he set spurs to his horse, and, with a nod and smile at Cedric, rode away up the forest path.

That afternoon messengers went out from the castle, to bid to the festival the tenantry and all the friends of Mountjoy for ten miles 'round; and an ox was slain for the roasting.

Three days later, on another perfect morn without cloud or breath of wind, there a.s.sembled in Yew Hedge Meadow, a furlong from the Mountjoy gate, a concourse which might have graced a tournament. The Pelhams were there and the Leicesters and even a half dozen of the Montmorencys, my mother's kin from Coventry. The yeomanry of the Mountjoy lands had come, e'en to the last man and maid and child, and nigh two hundred of the neighbor folk from Pelham Manor, Leicester and Mannerley. The gentry were gathered on some rows of benches, covered with gay-colored robes, which had been placed on a little hillock at the left; and the commoners stood or walked about on the good brown sward, having many a gay crack and jest between them, and enjoying, methought, a better view of the archery than their betters on the higher ground.