Part 4 (1/2)
We could hear shouts and curses behind us; but these momently grew fainter, and then could be heard no more.
Soon we came to the bank of a shallow brook. Into this, without stop or parley, plunged Cedric, but instead of riding straight across as I had thought, he turned his horse's head up-stream and urged him at a trot along its bed. For a quarter of a mile we rode thus, then coming to a ford and a half-blind pathway, turned aside in the direction away from Teramore, and again laying our heads on the necks of our mounts, sped through the woods at a ringing gallop. When we had covered a mile in this way, the path merged into a wider one; and I recognized a little vale to which my father and I had once come a-hunting, and which was scarce five miles from Mountjoy.
Here for a moment we paused, and Cedric threw himself down and placed his ear to the ground. Then he rose with a glad smile and shook his head.
”Dost hear nothing of hoof-beats?” I questioned.
”Not a stroke,” he answered. ”I had bethought me of a cave hard by here where we might be hidden if the hounds were close upon us. There, with the cross-bow, we could have stood off a hundred if need be, but we must have turned the horses loose, with the chance of their being taken.”
”Nay,” said I, ”we've shaken them off full well. In half an hour or less we can be crossing the drawbridge at Mountjoy. That n.o.ble steed thou ridest is too fine a prize to be left to the Carleton wolves.”
Just then something whirred viciously through the air between us, and a steel cross-bow bolt half buried itself in a tree-trunk close at hand.
Wheeling about toward the place whence came the arrow, I saw the steel cap and the ugly face of a Carleton man-at-arms over the top of a rock a hundred yards away which concealed and sheltered the rest of him.
Cedric, with a twist of the bridle rein and some vicious blows with his heels, urged his horse behind the tree which had received the bolt; and I mayhap would have shown more wisdom had I done likewise. But I saw but the single enemy before me; and for the instant his arrow groove was empty. Cedric had already taken toll of two of our enemies, while I, the heir of our house whose quarrel he had espoused, had done naught but fly before their pursuit. With a yell, ”A Mountjoy, A Mountjoy,” which is the battle cry of our people, I set spurs to my horse, and, sword in hand, charged straight toward the rock.
The Carleton man was striving sore to draw his bow and place another bolt; and had he been but half so deft with that goodly weapon as Cedric had twice shown himself that day, he might have stopped me in full career with an arrow in the breast or face. But he fumbled sadly with the string, and ere he could reach another bolt from his pouch I was almost upon him. In this strait he dropped the bow and, standing erect, whisked a broadsword from his belt. The scoundrel was tall and long of arm; and now I saw that he wore a quilted and steel-braced jacket which none but the heaviest blow might pierce. I had already repented me of my folly in rus.h.i.+ng, for the second time that day, into combat so unequal, and was bethinking me what trick of fence might serve my turn with this brawny and ill-visaged swordsman, when once again the skilled and ready hand of my friend of the Lincoln green saved me from dire peril. Even as our blades clashed, and I felt in his sword-play the firm, sure wrist of my enemy, a bolt whizzed past me and pierced his neck, just where the quilted jacket lay open at the throat. Without a cry, he fell forward on his face.
I looked wildly about, in effort to espy more of the men-at-arms, if so be they were awaiting us in ambush. But I could see no one; and no more arrows came from hidden foes. The woods were as quiet and serene, and the westering sun sent its beams as sweetly into the bonny glade as though men had never killed one another for gain or vengeance. Cedric, on the Carleton war-horse, came forward at a canter, with his bow made ready for another shot if need were.
”Are there more of the hounds?” he called, ”if so be, we must take shelter.”
”I see none,” I answered, ”though yonder, midst the little birches, is the horse which this one rode. Mayhap his comrades have ridden by other roads to cut us off.”
”'Tis truth,” said Cedric, ”yon Jackboots, that lieth now so still, did come about by Wareham Road at breakneck pace while we made but slow riding through the tangle. 'Twas well he had not the skill of a yeoman with the cross-bow, else one or both of us would ne'er again have seen Mountjoy. But come! Can thy little mare hold full stride through the glen and over yonder hill? An if she can, we may soon be where no Carletons will dare pursue.”
For answer I set spurs to the mare's sides and led the way down the path to the brook at the bottom of the valley. In a cloud of spray we forded the stream, then drove on without mercy up the long slope of Rowan Hill.
Soon we were in sight of the towers of Mountjoy, and while the sun had yet an hour's height, went safely o'er the drawbridge.
CHAPTER IV-THE CHAMPION OF MOUNTJOY
As Cedric of Pelham Wood rode with me into the courtyard, we met my father, the Lord of Mountjoy, coming from the stables. His favorite steed, a fine black stallion, Caesar by name, did suffer from a sprain he had come by at the tournament at Winchester; and my father was much in fear would never again be fit to bear him in the lists or to the wars.
We came forward but slowly; and Lord Mountjoy had ample time to note the mud-stained and foam-flecked sides of our mounts, the rents in my garments and the b.l.o.o.d.y scratches which the forest boughs had made on our faces. Truly, I fear I made but a sorry picture; and 'tis little wonder that a frown was on my father's brow and a roughness in his voice as he called to me:
”How now, Sir d.i.c.kon! Hast thou ridden thy little mare through the Devil's Brake and foundered her once for all? And who is this fellow in rags and shreds of Lincoln green that rides at thy side like a comrade?
Methinks 'twere better if he kept his place, an ell or two behind.”
Cedric's face grew red with wrath at these words; but I hastened to answer before he could make utterance.
”Hold, Father. This is Cedric, a forester of Pelham Wood, and our good and true friend. Twice or thrice this day hath he with his good cross-bow (of which he hath a skill like that of Old Marvin himself) saved me from death at the hands of the Carletons.”
”By my faith! Say'st thou so, my boy?” exclaimed Father, with a wondrous change of countenance. Then, turning to Cedric,
”Any who fights the Carleton wolves is a friend to all true Mountjoys.
Come my lad, thy hand! And thy pardon if I did speak a thought rough, not knowing thy deserts. Wert thou sore beset? And did thy bolts make good men and quiet of some of those restless knaves?”
”Some of them, my lord, will ne'er again rob an honest farmer of his stores or burn a woodman's cottage,” said Cedric with a smile.