Part 13 (1/2)
”Truly it is issued in very good form,” said the Prince. ”Neither Claricieux nor Red Dragon nor any herald that ever wore tabard could better it. Did he draw it of his own hand?”
”He hath a grim old grandmother who is one of the ancient breed,” said Chandos. ”I doubt not that the Dame Ermyntrude hath drawn a challenge or two before now. But hark ye, sire, I would have a word in your ear--and yours too, most n.o.ble Prince.”
Leading them aside, Chandos whispered some explanations, which ended by them all three bursting into a shout of laughter.
”By the rood! no honorable gentleman should be reduced to such straits,”
said the King. ”It behooves me to look to it. But how now, gentlemen?
This worthy cavalier still waits his answer.”
The soldiers had all been buzzing together; but now Walter Manny turned to the King with the result of their counsel.
”If it please your majesty,” said he, ”we are of opinion that this Squire hath exceeded all bounds in desiring to break a spear with a belted knight ere he has given his proofs. We do him sufficient honor if a Squire ride against him, and with your consent I have chosen my own body-squire, John Widdicombe, to clear the path for us across the bridge.”
”What you say, Walter, is right and fair,” said the King. ”Master Chandos, you will tell our champion yonder what hath been arranged. You will advise him also that it is our royal will that this contest be not fought upon the bridge, since it is very clear that it must end in one or both going over into the river, but that he advance to the end of the bridge and fight upon the plain. You will tell him also that a blunted lance is sufficient for such an encounter, but that a hand-stroke or two with sword or mace may well be exchanged, if both riders should keep their saddles. A blast upon Raoul's horn shall be the signal to close.”
Such ventures as these where an aspirant for fame would wait for days at a cross-road, a ford, or a bridge, until some worthy antagonist should ride that way, were very common in the old days of adventurous knight erranty, and were still familiar to the minds of all men because the stories of the romancers and the songs of the trouveres were full of such incidents. Their actual occurrence however had become rare. There was the more curiosity, not unmixed with amus.e.m.e.nt, in the thoughts of the courtiers as they watched Chandos ride down to the bridge and commented upon the somewhat singular figure of the challenger. His build was strange, and so also was his figure, for the limbs were short for so tall a man. His head also was sunk forward as if he were lost in thought or overcome with deep dejection.
”This is surely the Cavalier of the Heavy Heart,” said Manny. ”What trouble has he, that he should hang his head?”
”Perchance he hath a weak neck,” said the King.
”At least he hath no weak voice,” the Prince remarked, as Nigel's answer to Chandos came to their ears. ”By our lady, he booms like a bittern.”
As Chandos rode back again to the King, Nigel exchanged the old ash spear which had been his father's for one of the blunted tournament lances which he took from the hands of a stout archer in attendance. He then rode down to the end of the bridge where a hundred-yard stretch of greensward lay in front of him. At the same moment the Squire of Sir Walter Manny, who had been hastily armed by his comrades, spurred forward and took up his position.
The King raised his hand; there was a clang from the falconer's horn, and the two riders, with a thrust of their heels and a shake of their bridles, dashed furiously at each other. In the center the green strip of marshy meadowland, with the water squirting from the galloping hoofs, and the two crouching men, gleaming bright in the evening sun, on one side the half circle of motionless hors.e.m.e.n, some in steel, some in velvet, silent and attentive, dogs, hawks, and horses all turned to stone; on the other the old peaked bridge, the blue lazy river, the group of openmouthed rustics, and the dark old manor-house with one grim face which peered from the upper window.
A good man was John Widdicombe, but he had met a better that day. Before that yellow whirlwind of a horse and that rider who was welded and riveted to his saddle his knees could not hold their grip. Nigel and Pommers were one flying missile, with all their weight and strength and energy centered on the steady end of the lance. Had Widdicombe been struck by a thunderbolt he could not have flown faster or farther from his saddle. Two full somersaults did he make, his plates clanging like cymbals, ere he lay p.r.o.ne upon his back.
For a moment the King looked grave at that prodigious fall. Then smiling once more as Widdicombe staggered to his feet, he clapped his hands loudly in applause. ”A fair course and fairly run!” he cried. ”The five scarlet roses bear themselves in peace even as I have seen them in war.
How now, my good Walter? Have you another Squire or will you clear a path for us yourself?”
Manny's choleric face had turned darker as he observed the mischance of his representative. He beckoned now to a tall knight, whose gaunt and savage face looked out from his open ba.s.sinet as an eagle might from a cage of steel.
”Sir Hubert,” said he, ”I bear in mind the day when you overbore the Frenchman at Caen. Will you not be our champion now?”
”When I fought the Frenchman, Walter, it was with naked weapons,” said the knight sternly. ”I am a soldier and I love a soldier's work, but I care not for these tiltyard tricks which were invented for nothing but to tickle the fancies of foolish women.”
”Oh, most ungallant speech!” cried the King. ”Had my good-consort heard you she would have arraigned you to appear at a Court of Love with a jury of virgins to answer for your sins. But I pray you to take a tilting spear, good Sir Hubert!”
”I had as soon take a peac.o.c.k's feather, my fair lord; but I will do it, if you ask me. Here, page, hand me one of those sticks, and let me see what I can do.”
But Sir Hubert de Burgh was not destined to test either his skill or his luck. The great bay horse which he rode was as unused to this warlike play as was its master, and had none of its master's stoutness of heart; so that when it saw the leveled lance, the gleaming figure and the frenzied yellow horse rus.h.i.+ng down upon it, it swerved, turned and galloped furiously down the river-bank. Amid roars of laughter from the rustics on the one side and from the courtiers on the other, Sir Hubert was seen, tugging vainly at his bridle, and bounding onward, clearing gorse-bushes and heather-clumps, until he was but a s.h.i.+mmering, quivering gleam upon the dark hillside. Nigel, who had pulled Pommers on to his very haunches at the instant that his opponent turned, saluted with his lance and trotted back to the bridge-head, where he awaited his next a.s.sailant.
”The ladies would say that a judgment hath fallen upon our good Sir Hubert for his impious words,” said the King.
”Let us hope that his charger may be broken in ere they venture to ride out between two armies,” remarked the Prince. ”They might mistake the hardness of his horse's mouth for a softness of the rider's heart. See where he rides, still clearing every bush upon his path.”