Part 17 (1/2)
”De Lacy,” he called, ”come hither. . . I want you,” he said when the young Knight entered, wrapped in his long cloak, ”with all possible secrecy, to secure all the doors of the inn and bring the keys to me.
At any that cannot be locked, post two of my personal retainers with orders to permit no one to depart the place. That done, take fifty men and station them along the road to where it joins the Roman highway this side the Ouse. Bid them allow no one to travel southward ere sunrise without express authority from me. Act instantly.”
IX
THE ARREST
De Lacy found the landlord dozing beside the chimney in the kitchen.
The fire was still smouldering on the hearth, and the big black kettle gave forth an odor of garlic and vegetables that made the air most foul. On the floor, in promiscuous confusion, lay various members of the establishment, of both s.e.xes, who never even stirred at the Knight's entrance, either because they were too deep in sleep to hear him or too tired to care if they were trodden upon. Arousing the host, Aymer demanded all the keys of the inn, in the name of the Duke of Gloucester, and before the half-dazed fellow could respond he seized the big bunch that hung at his girdle and snapped it free. Bidding him mind his own business and go to sleep, he proceeded to execute his orders; and then hastened to the house where, by accident, that evening he had noticed Raynor Royk was quartered.
Twenty minutes later he rode out of Northampton and crossed the Nene with the fifty retainers behind him. To Dauvrey and Raynor Royk, he repeated the Duke's order just as it had been given, deeming it well, if he were incapacitated, that those next in command should know what to do. Leaving five men on the south bank of the Nene, he dropped bands of four at regular intervals along the road, with instructions to patrol constantly the intervening distances on both sides of them. The remaining five men he posted at the Roman highway, with orders not to separate under any circ.u.mstances.
Leaving Raynor in charge of this detail, De Lacy and his squire jogged slowly back toward Northampton. Hanging in an almost cloudless sky, the full moon was lighting up with its brilliant uncertainty the country around. The intense calm of the early morning was upon the earth, and there was no sound but the tramp of their horses, varied, at intervals, by the approach of one of the patrols or the pa.s.sing of a sentry post.
About midway to the Nene the squire's horse picked a stone. It stuck persistently, and he swore at it under his breath as he tried to free it. Presently it yielded, and he had raised his arm to hurl it far away when a sharp word from De Lacy arrested him. They had chanced to halt in the shadow of a bit of woodland which, at that point, fringed the east side of the road. To the left, for some distance, the ground was comparatively clear of timber, and crossing this open s.p.a.ce, about a hundred yards away, were two hors.e.m.e.n. They were riding at a rapid trot, but over the soft turf they made no sound.
”There,” said De Lacy, waving his hand.
The squire swung noiselessly into saddle.
”Shall we stop them?” he asked.
”Of course--be ready if they show fight.”
Suddenly Dauvrey's horse threw up his head and whinnied. At the first quaver, De Lacy touched Selim and rode out into the moonlight toward the strangers, who had stopped sharply.
”Good evening, fair sirs,” said he; ”you ride late.”
”Not so; we are simply up betimes,” replied one, ”and therefore, with your permission, since we are in some haste, we will wish you a very good morning and proceed.”
”Nay, be not so precipitate. Whither away, I pray, at such strange hours and over such strange courses?”
”What business is it of yours,” exclaimed he who had first spoken, ”whether we come from the clouds? Out of the way, or take the consequences,” and he flashed forth his sword.
”You are hardly courteous,” replied Aymer, ”and therefore scarce angels in disguise, even though you prate of the clouds. So if you wish to measure blades I shall not balk you. Nathless,” as he slowly freed his own weapon, ”it is a quarrel not of my making.”
”Will you let us pa.s.s then?” said the stranger.
”I never said I would not; I but asked your destination.”
”And I refused to answer--stand aside.”
”Nay, nay! do not get excited,” said De Lacy calmly. ”Consider a moment; you ask all and grant nothing. I wish to know whither you ride--you wish to ride. It is only a fair exchange.”
”It is very evident that you are seeking a quarrel,” the other exclaimed; ”and by the Holy Saints! you have found it. I shall ride on, and if it be over your carca.s.s, on your head be it.”
”I have seen a few dead bodies in my time, fair sir,” replied Sir Aymer with a laugh, ”but never one that stood upon its head. It is a pity then I may not see my own.”
The stranger made no reply, but settling himself well in saddle charged in. De Lacy, without changing position further than to drop the reins over the saddle bow, so as to leave both hands free to wield his sword, awaited the rush. Saving a thin corselet of steel beneath his doublet, he wore no armor; and as his antagonist was, outwardly at least, entirely unprotected, a single stroke of the heavy weapons would likely decide the matter.
For a s.p.a.ce, De Lacy contented himself with parrying the blows aimed at him and with blocking the other's advance. Repeatedly he could have ended the fight, but always he forebore. The man was no possible match for him, and with soldierly generosity he hesitated either to kill or to wound grievously one who showed so much pluck and grit even when the struggle was plainly lost. He was waiting the opportunity to disarm him.