Part 32 (1/2)
”Hast thou aught to add in favour of thy squire, beyond what thou didst tell us but a short time back?”
”Nothing more, sire.”
”'Tis well. And now, squire, we have carefully considered thy case, and we are favourably disposed towards thee.” Then, turning to his barons, he added, with a sly reference to the growing power of Parliament, ”We take it, fair lords, that we shall not offend our faithful commoners a.s.sembled at Westminster by a.s.suming a right to revoke a decree of outlawry?”
A low murmur of a.s.sent was the reply.
”Then, Raymond Revyngton, we hereby pardon thee for an offence that thou hast not committed--to wit, thou art no longer the son of an outlaw. Sir William de Saye, our scrivener, will draw up the deed of revocation, and a copy for the Lord Bishop of Winchester. Art content?”
”Sire, I thank thee,” replied Raymond, bending low before his sovereign.
”There is yet another matter. Of thy valour there has been no question. We have in mind the affair with the Count of Tancarville, and, going farther back, thy journey to Hennebon. But more especially thy conduct in yesterday's fight, when our dear son, the Prince of Wales, was succoured by thine aid. We have a mind to inspect thy cloven s.h.i.+eld, which, we do perceive, thou hast brought in case our memory were in need of a reminder.”
The squire, still kneeling, handed his buckler to an attendant, who in turn presented it to the King.
”A l.u.s.ty stroke,” commented Edward, carefully examining the clean cut in the metal plate. ”Our cousin of France hath men of sinew who in open fight would be worthy and gallant opponents. Had their peasants been as good bowmen as our gallant archers but few of us would be here. Squire,” he added, ”arise and hand over thy sword.”
With martial alertness, Raymond drew the fragment of steel, and a look of surprise o'erspread the King's face.
”Thine equipment seems at fault,” he remarked, smiling a little grimly. ”Nay, we know 'twas done in a gallant fight. Advance, squire, and kneel before us.”
This time Raymond did not refuse, for was he not a man free from the fatal taint that had threatened to mar everything in his career? With rapid stride and uplifted head he advanced to the steps of the das, his armour clanking as he moved. Presenting the hilt of his weapon to the King, the squire sank on his knees.
As in a dream he felt the flat of the broken blade touch his right shoulder, and the King's voice, in bold and decisive tones, saying, ”Arise, Sir Raymond Revyngton!”
When at length Raymond found himself without the royal pavilion, he was overwhelmed by the congratulations of his friends, including Sir Reginald Scarsdale.
”'Twould ill become a belted knight if I did not make amends for the past,” quoth the latter. ”And to that end all I can do for thee I'll do willingly.”
”Then on thy knightly honour I hold thee to thy promise,” replied Raymond, catching at the opportunity with new-born courage, ”for I have a matter of much weight of which I would speak.”
”Then say on.”
Sir John and Sir Maurice, having an inkling of what was coming, exchanged a knowing smile, and Raymond continued, though his voice faltered a little.
”Sir Reginald, I love thy daughter Audrey, and would ask thy consent to win her hand in marriage.”
For a while the old knight was too much astonished to reply, then, holding out his hand, he replied, ”Then thou art the youth who rendered her service at that little affair with the French at Hampton? Out on me for a thickhead for not linking thee with that bold feat before. Certes! I will not be less good than my word. Take the maid, if she be willing to wed thee!” Thus it was that the newly-made knight found that success begets success, though in his heart he had not expected to win Sir Reginald's consent so readily.
Yet in the midst of his good fortune the one dark shadow was the haunting thought of the loss of his father, and he grieved in his heart that death had deprived his sire of life just as his son was on the threshold of fame and honour.
Slowly the four knights, Sir Reginald being stiff with his hurts, proceeded towards the lines of the Hamps.h.i.+re companies, where Sir John had invited the others to partake of refreshment. Already the news of Raymond's advancement had preceded them, and the soldiers, with loud shouts, welcomed the new knight; for the master-bowman's son was ever popular in the ranks of the men of Portsmouth and Southampton.
”What are thy plans for the future,” asked the Constable later in the day, ”for as heir to Sir Maurice it is fitting that thou shouldst join him with the men of Devon.”
”Nay, by the rood,” answered Raymond warmly. ”Thou hast ever been a good master to me, Sir John, and with thee I'll abide till the end of the war.”
”I thank thee for thine appreciation, Raymond, for ever since thou wert my squire I have loved thee as a son. But now concerning the maid, the Lady Audrey?”