The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 12

Hereupon the Dwarf cut a caper but sighed thereafter: quoth he:

"Aha, good master, and Oho, As man-at-arms fain would I go; Aye, verily, I would be so, But that my grannam sayeth 'No!'

"And, sir, my grand-dam I obey Since she's a potent witch, they say; Can cast ye spells by night or day And charmeth warts and such away.

"Love philtres too she can supply For fools that fond and foolish sigh, That wert thou foul as hog in sty Fair women must unto thee fly.

"Then deadly potions she can make, Will turn a man to wriggling snake, Or slimy worm, or duck, or drake, Or loathly frog that croaks in lake.

"And she can curse beyond compare, Can curse ye here, or curse ye there; She'll curse ye clad or curse ye bare, In fine, can curse ye anywhere.

"And she can summon, so 't is said, From fire and water, spirits dread, Strong charms she hath can wake the dead And set the living in their stead.

"So thus it is, whate'er she say, My grand-dam, master, I obey."

"Now by my head," quoth Sir Pertinax, "an thy grand-dam hath a potency in spells and such black arts--the which is an ill thing--thou hast a powerful gift of versification the which, methinks, is worse. How cometh this distemper o' the tongue, Lobkyn?"

"O master," spake the sighful Dwarf forlorn, "Like many such diseases, 't is inborn.

For even as a baby, I Did pule in rhyme and versify; And the stronger that I grew, My rhyming habit strengthened too, Until my sad sire in despair Put me beneath the Church's care.

The holy fathers, 't is confessed, With belt and sandal did their best, But, though they often whipped me sore, I, weeping, did but rhyme the more, Till, finding all their efforts vain, They sadly sent me home again."

"A parlous case, methinks!" said Sir Pertinax, staring at the Dwarf's rueful visage. "Learned ye aught of the holy fathers?"

"Aye, sir, they taught me truth to tell, To cipher and to read right well; They taught me Latin, sir, and Greek, Though even then in rhyme I'd speak."

"And thou canst read and write!" exclaimed Sir Pertinax. "So can not I!"

Cried LOB:

"What matter that? Heaven save the mark, Far better be a soldier than a clerk, Far rather had I be a fighter Than learned reader or a writer, Since they who'd read must mope in schools, And they that write be mostly fools.

So 'stead of pen give me a sword, And set me where the battle's toward, Where blood--"

But the ancient dame who had risen and approached silently, now very suddenly took Lobkyn by the ear again.

"Talk not of blood and battles, naughty one!" she cried. "Think not to leave thy old grannam lone and lorn and helpless--nor this our fair maid.

Shame on thee, Lob, O shame!" saying the which she cuffed him again and soundly.

"Master," he sighed, "thou seest I may not go, Since that my grand-dam will not have it so."

"Good mother, wise mother," said the maid, viewing Sir Pertinax smilingly askance, "why doth poor soldier go bedight in fine linen 'neath rusty hauberk? Why doth poor soldier wear knightly chain about his neck and swear by knightly oath? Good mother, wise mother, rede me this."

The old woman viewed Pertinax with her bright, quick eyes, but, ere she could answer, he sheathed sword, drew ragged mantle about him, and made to go, but, turning to the maid, bent steel-clad head.

"Most fair damosel," said he gently, "evening cometh on, and now, since thou art no longer forlorn, I will away."

"Nay, first, I pray thee, what is thy name?"

"Pertinax, madam."

"So then doth Melissa thank Pertinax. And now--out alas! Will Pertinax leave Melissa, having but found her?"

Sir Pertinax looked up, looked down, fidgeted with his cloak, and knew not how to answer; wherefore she sighed again, though with eyes full merry 'neath drooping lashes and reached out to him her slender hand. "Aye me, and shall we meet no more, poor soldier?" she questioned softly.

"This I know not," he answered.

"For thy brave rescue I do give thee my humble thanks, poor soldier."

"Thy rescue, child?" cried the old woman. "Alack and wert thou seen? Thy rescue, say'st thou?"

"Indeed, good mother, from Sir Agramore's rough foresters. But for thee, thou needy soldier, my grat.i.tude is thine henceforth. Had I aught else to give thee, that were thine also. Is there aught I may? Speak."

Now Sir Pertinax could not but heed all the rich, warm beauty of her--these eyes so sombrely sweet, her delicate nose, the temptation of her vivid lips--and so spake hot with impulse:

"Aye, truly, sweet maid, truly I would have of thee a--" Her eyes grew bright with laughter, a dimple played wanton in her cheek, and Sir Pertinax was all suddenly abashed, faint-hearted and unsure; thus, looking down, he chanced to espy a strange jewel that hung tremulous upon her moving bosom: a crowned heart within a heart of crystal.

"Well, thou staid and sorry soldier, what would'st have of me?" she questioned.

"Verily," he muttered, "I would have of thee yon trinket from thy bosom."

Now at his words she started, caught her breath and stared at him wide-eyed; but, seeing his abashment, laughed and loosed off the jewel with quick, small fingers.

"Be it so!" said she. But hereupon the old woman reached out sudden hand.

"Child!" she croaked, "Art mad? Mind ye not the prophecy? Beware the prophecy--beware!

'He that taketh Crystal Heart, Taketh all and every part!'

Beware, I say, Oh, beware!"

"Nay, good mother, have I not promised? And for this crystal it hath brought me nought but unease hitherto. Take it, soldier, and for the sake of this poor maid that giveth, break it not, dishonour it not, and give it to none but can define for thee the secret thereof--and so, poor, brave, fearful soldier--fare thee well!"

Saying which this fair maiden turned, and clasping the Witch's bony arm about her slender loveliness, pa.s.sed away into the denser wood with Lobkyn Lollo marching grimly behind, his mighty club across his shoulder.

Long stood Sir Pertinax, staring down at the strange jewel in his hand yet seeing it not, for, lost in his dreams, he beheld again two eyes, dusky-lashed and softly bright, a slender hand, a shapelyfoot, while in his ears was again the soft murmur of a maid's voice, a trill of girlish laughter. So lost in meditation was he that becoming aware of a shadow athwart the level sunset-glory, he started, glanced up and into the face of a horseman who had ridden up unheard upon the velvet ling; and this man was tall and armed at points like a knight; the vizor of his plumed casque was lifted, and Sir Pertinax saw a ruddy face, keen-eyed, hawk-nosed, thin-lipped.

"Fellow," questioned the haughty knight, "what hold ye there?"

"Fellow," quoth Sir Pertinax, haughty and gruff also, "'t is no matter to thee!" And speaking, he b.u.t.toned the jewel into the wallet at his belt.

"Fool!" exclaimed the Knight, staring in amaze, "wilt dare name me 'fellow'? Tell me, didst see three foresters hereabout?"

"Poltroon, I did."

"Knave, wilt defy me?"

"Rogue, I do!"

"Slave, what did these foresters?"

"Villain, they ran away!"