Rewards and Fairies Part 42

'That is true. The King's peace dies with the King. The custom then is that all laws are outlaw, and men do what they will till the new king is chosen.

'"I will amend that," said the King hotly. "I will have it so that though King, son, and grandson were all slain in one day, _still_ the King's peace should hold over all England! What is a man that his mere death must upheave a people? We must have the Law."

'"Truth," said William of Exeter; but that he would have said to any word of the King.

'The two great barons behind said nothing. This teaching was clean against their stomachs, for when the King's peace ends, the great barons go to war and increase their lands. At that instant we heard Rahere's voice returning, in a scurril Saxon rhyme against William of Exeter:

"Well wist Wal-wist where lay his fortune When that he fawned on the King for his crozier,"

and amid our laughter he burst in, with one arm round Hugh, and one round the old pilgrim of Netherfield.

'"Here is your knight, Brother," said he, "and for the better disport of the company, here is my fool. Hold up, Saxon Samson, the gates of Gaza are clean carried away!"

'Hugh broke loose, white and sick, and staggered to my side; the old man blinked upon the company.

'We looked at the King, but he smiled.

'"Rahere promised he would show me some sport after supper to cover his morning's offence," said he to De Aquila. "So this is thy man, Rahere?"

'"Even so," said Rahere. "My man he has been, and my protection he has taken, ever since I found him under the gallows at Stamford Bridge telling the kites atop of it that he was--Harold of England!"

'There was a great silence upon these last strange words, and Hugh hid his face on my shoulder, woman-fashion.

'"It is most cruel true," he whispered to me. "The old man proved it to me at the beat after you left, and again in our hut even now. It is Harold, my King!"

'De Aquila crept forward. He walked about the man and swallowed.

'"Bones of the Saints!" said he, staring.

'"Many a stray shot goes too well home," said Rahere.

'The old man flinched as at an arrow. "Why do you hurt me still?" he said in Saxon. "It was on some bones of some Saints that I promised I would give my England to the Great Duke." He turns on us all crying, shrilly: "Thanes, he had caught me at Rouen--a lifetime ago. If I had not promised, I should have lain there all my life. What else could I have done? I have lain in a strait prison all my life none the less.

There is no need to throw stones at me." He guarded his face with his arms, and shivered.

'"Now his madness will strike him down," said Rahere. "Cast out the evil spirit, one of you new bishops."

'Said William of Exeter: "Harold was slain at Santlache fight. All the world knows it."

'"I think this man must have forgotten," said Rahere. "Be comforted, Father. Thou wast well slain at Hastings forty years gone, less three months and nine days. Tell the King."

'The man uncovered his face. "I thought they would stone me," he said.

"I did not know I spoke before a King." He came to his full towering height--no mean man, but frail beyond belief.

'The King turned to the tables, and held him out his own cup of wine.

The old man drank, and beckoned behind him, and, before all the Normans, my Hugh bore away the empty cup, Saxon fashion, upon the knee.

'"It is Harold!" said De Aquila. "His own stiff-necked blood kneels to serve him."

'"Be it so," said Henry. "Sit, then, thou that hast been Harold of England."

'The madman sat, and hard, dark Henry looked at him between half-shut eyes. We others stared like oxen, all but De Aquila, who watched Rahere as I have seen him watch a far sail on the sea.

'The wine and the warmth cast the old man into a dream. His white head bowed; his hands hung. His eye indeed was opened, but the mind was shut. When he stretched his feet, they were scurfed and road-cut like a slave's.

'"Ah, Rahere," cried Hugh, "why hast thou shown him thus? Better have let him die than shame him--and me!"

'"Shame thee?" said the King. "Would any baron of mine kneel to me if I were witless, discrowned, and alone, and Harold had my throne?"

'"No," said Rahere. "I am the sole fool that might do it, Brother, unless"--he pointed at De Aquila, whom he had only met that day--"yonder tough Norman crab kept me company. But, Sir Hugh, I did not mean to shame him. He hath been somewhat punished through, maybe, little fault of his own."

'"Yet he lied to my Father, the Conqueror," said the King, and the old man flinched in his sleep.

'"Maybe," said Rahere, "but thy Brother Robert, whose throat we purpose soon to slit with our own hands----"

'"Hutt!" said the King, laughing. "I'll keep Robert at my table for a life's guest when I catch him. Robert means no harm. It is all his cursed barons."

'"None the less," said Rahere, "Robert may say that thou hast not always spoken the stark truth to him about England. I should not hang too many men on _that_ bough, Brother."

'"And it is certain," said Hugh, "that"--he pointed to the old man--"Harold was forced to make his promise to the Great Duke."

'"Very strongly forced," said De Aquila. He had never any pride in the Duke William's dealings with Harold before Hastings. Yet, as he said, one cannot build a house all of straight sticks.

'"No matter how he was forced," said Henry, "England was promised to my Father William by Edward the Confessor. Is it not so?" William of Exeter nodded. "Harold confirmed that promise to my Father on the bones of the Saints. Afterwards he broke his oath and would have taken England by the strong hand."

'"Oh! La! La!" Rahere rolled up his eyes like a girl. "That ever England should be taken by the strong hand!"

'Seeing that Red William and Henry after him had each in just that fashion s.n.a.t.c.hed England from Robert of Normandy, we others knew not where to look; but De Aquila saved us quickly.

'"Promise kept or promise broken," he said, "Harold came near enough to breaking us Normans at Senlac."

'"Was it so close a fight, then?" said Henry.

'"A hair would have turned it either way," De Aquila answered. "His house-carles stood like rocks against rain. Where wast thou, Hugh, in it?"

'"Among G.o.dwin's folk beneath the Golden Dragon till your front gave back, and we broke our ranks to follow," said Hugh.

'"But I bade you stand! I bade you stand! I knew it was all a deceit!"

Harold had waked, and leaned forward as one crying from the grave.

'"Ah, now we see how the traitor himself was betrayed!" said William of Exeter, and looked for a smile from the King.

'"I made thee Bishop to preach at _my_ bidding," said Henry; and turning to Harold, "Tell us here how thy people fought us?" said he. "Their sons serve me now against my Brother Robert!"

'The old man shook his head cunningly. "Na--Na--Na," he cried. "I know better. Every time I tell my tale men stone me. But, Thanes, I will tell you a greater thing. Listen!" He told us how many paces it was from some Saxon Saint's shrine to another shrine, and how many more back to the Abbey of the Battle.

'"Ay," said he. "I have trodden it too often to be out even ten paces. I move very swiftly. Harold of Norway knows that, and so does Tostig my brother. They lie at ease at Stamford Bridge, and from Stamford Bridge to the Battle Abbey it is----" he muttered over many numbers and forgot us.

'"Ay," said De Aquila, all in a muse. "That man broke Harold of Norway at Stamford Bridge, and came near to breaking us at Santlache--all within one month."