Part 11 (1/2)
You also, strange and death-like man named Grey d.i.c.k, shall not lack our favour if it proves that you can shoot but half as well as you have boasted, and, unless you lie, both of you, as it seems that you have done. And now to supper, though in truth this news does not kindle appet.i.te. Son, see that this gentleman is well served, and that none mock him more about the fas.h.i.+on of his armour, above all Sir Ambrose, for I'll not suffer it. Plate and damascene do not make a man, and this, it seems, was borrowed from as brave, ay, and as learned, a knight as ever bestrode a horse in war. Come, Lady,” and taking the Queen by the hand, he left the chamber.
That evening Hugh ate his food seated among the knights of the Household at a high table in the great hall, at the head of which, for the King supped in private, was placed the young Prince Edward. He noted that now none laughed at him about the fas.h.i.+on of his mail or his country ways.
Indeed, when after supper Sir Ambrose Lacey came to him and asked his pardon for the talk that he had used to him in the Windsor street--he was sure that some word had been sent round that his business had brought him favour with the King and that he must be treated with all courtesy. Several of those who sat round him tried to discover what that business was. But of this he would say nothing, parrying their questions with others about the wars in France, and listening with open ears to the tales of great deeds done there.
”Ah, would that I could see such things!” he said.
To which one of them answered:
”Well, why not? There'll be chance enough ere long, and many of us would be glad of a square built like you.”
Now, at lower tables, in that vast hall, Hugh's servants, and with them Grey d.i.c.k, sat among the men-at-arms of the King's Guard, who were all chosen for their courage, and skill in archery. These soldiers, noting the strange-faced, ashen-haired fellow who ate with his bow resting on the bench beside him, inquired about him from the other Dunwich men, and soon heard enough to cause them to open their eyes. When the ale had got hold of them they opened their mouths also, and, crowding round d.i.c.k, asked if it were true that he could shoot well.
”As well as another,” he answered, and would say no more.
Then they looked at his bow, and saw that it was old-fas.h.i.+oned, like his master's mail, and of some foreign make and wood, but a mighty weapon such as few could handle and hold straight. Lastly, they began to challenge him to a match upon the morrow, to which he answered, who also had been drinking ale and was growing angry, that he'd give the best of them five points in fifty.
Now they mocked, for among them were some famous archers, and asked at what range.
”At any ye will,” answered Grey d.i.c.k, ”from twelve score yards down to one score yards. Now trouble me no longer, who if I must shoot to-morrow would sleep first and drink no more of your strong ale that breeds bad humours in one reared upon d.y.k.e water.”
Then, seizing his bow, he glided away in his curious stoat-like fas.h.i.+on to the hole where he had been shown that he should sleep.
”A braggart!” said one.
”I am not so sure,” answered a grizzled captain of archers, who had fought in many wars. ”Braggarts make a noise, but this fellow only spoke when we squeezed him and perhaps what came out of those thin lips was truth. At least, from his look I'd sooner not find him against me bow to bow.”
Then they fell to betting which of them would beat Grey d.i.c.k by the heaviest points.
Next morning about nine o'clock the King sent a messenger to Hugh, bidding him and his servant Richard wait upon them. They went with this messenger, who led them to a little chamber, where his Grace sat, attended only by the clerk, Brother Peter, and a dark-browed minister, whose name he never learned.
”Hugh de Cressi and Richard Archer,” said Edward, motioning to the minister to hand Hugh a parchment to which hung a great seal, ”here is the pardon which I promised you. No need to stay to read it, since it is as wide as Windsor Keep, and woe betide him who lifts hand against either of you for aught you may have done or left undone in the past contrary to the laws of our realm. Yet remember well that this grace runs not to the future. Now that matter is ended, and we come to one that is greater. Because of the faith put in you by our loyal and beloved subject, Sir Andrew Arnold, your G.o.dsire, and because we like the fas.h.i.+on of you, Hugh de Cressi, and hold you brave and honest, it has pleased us to give you a commission under which we direct the Mayor of Dunwich and all true and lawful men of that town and hundred to aid you in the taking or, if need be, in the slaying of our subject, Sir Edmund Acour, Count of Noyon and Seigneur of Cattrina. We command you to bring this man before us alive or dead, that his cause may be judged of our courts and the truth of the matter alleged against him by the Reverend Father Sir Andrew Arnold therein determined. Nevertheless, we command you not to wound or kill the said knight unless he resists the authority of us by you conveyed and you cannot otherwise hold him safe from escaping from out this our realm. This commission you will presently go forth to execute, keeping its tenor and your aim secret until the moment comes to strike, and, as you perform your duty, of which you will return and make report to us, so shall we judge and reward you. Do you understand?”
”Sire,” answered Hugh, bowing, ”I understand, and I will obey to my last breath.”
”Good! When the parchments are engrossed my officer here will read them to you and explain aught that may need it. Meanwhile, we have an hour or two during which your horses can eat, for there are no fresh beasts here to give you, and it is best, to avoid doubts, that you should return as you came, only showing your powers if any should attempt to arrest you. So let us have done with these heavy matters, and disport us for a while. This servant of yours has made a common boast that he will outshoot any of our picked archers, and now we are ready to go forth and put him to the proof of the b.u.t.ts. Let him know, however, that, notwithstanding our words of yesterday, we shall not hold him to blame if he fails, since many a man of higher degree promises more at night than he can perform in the morning.”
”Sire, I'll do my best. I can no more,” said Grey d.i.c.k. ”Only I pray that none may be suffered to hang about or pester me at the b.u.t.ts, since I am a lonely man who love not company when I use my art.”
”That shall be so,” said the King. ”And now to the sport.”
”The sport!” grumbled Grey d.i.c.k, when he and Hugh were alone together.
”Why, it is other sport we should be seeking, with Acour and his knaves for targets. Go to the King, master, and show him that while we linger here the Frenchman may slip away, or work more and worse treasons.”
”I cannot, d.i.c.k; the parchments are not written out, and his Grace is bent upon this pleasure match. Moreover, man, all these archers here--yes, and their betters also--would say that you had fled because you were an empty boaster who dared not face the trial.”
”They'd say that, would they?” snarled Grey d.i.c.k. ”Yes, they'd say that, which would be bitter hearing for you and me. Well, they shall not say it. Yet I tell you, master,” he added in a burst of words, ”although I know not why, I'd rather bear their scorn and be away on the road to Dunwich.”
”It may not be, d.i.c.k,” replied Hugh, shaking his head doubtfully. ”See, here they come to fetch us.”