Part 19 (1/2)
So the French knights, having stared their full, turned and rode away slowly. But one of their squires did otherwise. Dismounting from his horse, which he left with another squire to hold, he ran forward a few paces to the crest of a little knoll. Thence he made gestures of contempt and scorn toward the English army, as he did so shouting foul words, of which a few floated to them in the stillness.
”Now,” said Edward, ”if I had an archer who could reach that varlet, I'll swear that his name should not be forgotten in England. But alas!
it may not be, for none cam make an arrow fly true so far.”
Instantly Grey d.i.c.k stepped forward.
”Sire, may I try?” he asked, stringing his great black bow as he spoke.
”Who are you?” said the King, ”who seem to have been rolled in ashes and wear my own gold arrow in your cap? Ah! I remember, the Suffolk man who showed us all how to shoot at Windsor, he who is called Grey d.i.c.k. Yes, try, Grey d.i.c.k, try, if you think that you can reach so far. Yet for the honour of St. George, man, do not miss, for all the host will see Fate riding on your shaft.”
For one moment d.i.c.k hesitated. Such awful words seemed to shake even his iron nerve.
”I've seen you do as much, d.i.c.k,” said the quiet voice of Hugh de Cressi behind him. ”Still, judge you.”
Then d.i.c.k ground his heels into the turf and laid his weight against the bow. While all men watched breathless, he drew it to an arc, he drew it till the string was level with his ear. He loosed, then, slewing round, straightened himself and stared down at the earth. As he said afterward, he feared to watch that arrow.
Away it sped while all men gazed. High, high it flew, the sunlight glinting on its polished barb. Down it came at length, and the King muttered ”Short!” But while the word pa.s.sed his lips that shaft seemed to recover itself, as though by magic, and again rushed on. He of the foul words and gestures saw it coming, and turned to fly. As he leapt forward the war arrow struck him full in the small of the back, just where the spine ends, severing it, so that he fell all of a heap like an ox beneath the axe, and lay a still and huddled shape.
From all the English right who saw this wondrous deed there went up such a shout that their comrades to the left and rear thought for a moment that battle had been joined. The King and the Prince stared amazed. Hugh flung his arms about d.i.c.k's neck, and kissed him. Jack Green cried:
”No archer, but a wizard! Mere man could not have sent a true shaft so far.”
”Then would to heaven I had more such wizards,” said the King. ”G.o.d be with you, Grey d.i.c.k, for you have put new heart into my and all our company. Mark, each of you, that he smote him in the back, smote him running! What reward would you have, man?”
”None,” answered d.i.c.k in a surly voice. ”My reward is that, whatever happens, yon filthy French knave will never mock honest English folk again. Or so I think, though the arrow barely reached him. Yet, Sire,”
he added after a pause, ”you might knight my master, Hugh de Cressi, if you will, since but for him I should have feared to risk that shot.”
Then turning aside, d.i.c.k unstrung his bow, and, pulling the remains of the apple out of his pouch, began to munch it unconcernedly.
”Hugh de Cressi!” said the King. ”Ah! yes, I mind me of him and of the rogue, Acour, and the maid, Red Eve. Well, Hugh, I am told you fought gallantly at Blanche-Tague two days gone and were among the last to cross the Somme. Also, we have other debts to pay you. Come hither, sir, and give me your sword.”
”Your pardon, my liege,” said Hugh, colouring, ”but I'll not be knighted for my henchman's feats, or at all until I have done some of my own.”
”Ah, well, Master Hugh,” said the King, ”that's a right spirit. After the battle, perhaps, if it should please G.o.d that we live to meet again in honour. De Cressi,” he added musingly, ”why this place is called Crecy, and here, I think, is another good omen. At Crecy shall de Cressi gain great honour for himself and for St. George of England. You are luck bringers, you two. Let them not be separated in the battle, lest the luck should leave them. See to it, if it please you, my lord of Warwick. Young de Cressi can draw a bow; let him fight amongst the archers and have liberty to join the men-at-arms when the time comes. Or stay; set them near my son the Prince, for there surely the fight will be hottest.
”And now, you men of England, whatever your degree, my brothers of England, gentle and simple, Philip rolls down upon us with all the might of France, our heritage which he has stolen, our heritage and yours.
Well, well, show him to-day, or to-morrow, or whenever it may be, that Englishmen put not their faith in numbers, but in justice and their own great hearts. Oh, my brothers and my friends, let not Edward, whom you are pleased to serve as your lawful King, be whipped off the field of Crecy and out of France! Stand to your banners, stand to your King, stand to St. George and G.o.d! Die where you are if need be, as I will.
Never threaten and then show your backs like that knave the archer shot but now. Look, I give my son into your keeping,” and he pointed to the young Prince, who all this while sat upon his horse upright and silent.
”The Hope of England shall be your leader, but if he flies, why then, cut him down, and fight without him. But he'll not fly and you'll not fly; no, you and he together will this day earn a name that shall be told of when the world is grey with age. Great is the chance that life has given you; pluck it, pluck it from the land of opportunity and, dead or living, become a song forever in the mouths of men unborn. Think not of prisoners; think not of ransoms and of wealth. Think not of me or of yourselves, but think of England's honour, and for that strike home, for England watches you to-day.”
”We will, we will! Fear not, King, we will,” shouted the host in answer.
With a glad smile, Edward took his young son's hand and shook it; then rode away followed by his marshals.
”De Cressi,” he said, as he pa.s.sed Hugh, ”the knave Acour, your foe and mine, is with Philip of France. He has done me much damage, de Cressi, more than I can stop to tell. Avenge it if you can. Your luck is great, you may find the chance. G.o.d be with you and all. My lords, farewell.
You have your orders. Son Edward, fare you well, also. Meet me again with honour, or never more.”
It was not yet noon when King Edward spoke these words, and long hours were to go by before the battle joined. Indeed, most thought that no blow would be struck that day, since it was known that Philip had slept at Abbeville, whence for a great army the march was somewhat long.