CHAPTER XXXII. HOW THE COMPANY TOOK COUNSEL ROUND THE FALLEN TREE.
"Where is Sir Claude Latour?" asked Sir Nigel, as his feet touchedground.
"He is in camp, near Montpezat, two hours' march from here, my fairlord," said Johnston, the grizzled bowman who commanded the archers.
"Then we shall march thither, for I would fain have you all back at Daxin time to be in the prince's vanguard."
"My lord," cried Alleyne, joyfully, "here are our chargers in the field,and I see your harness amid the plunder which these rogues have leftbehind them."
"By Saint Ives! you speak sooth, young squire," said Du Guesclin. "Thereis my horse and my lady's jennet. The knaves led them from the stables,but fled without them. Now, Nigel, it is great joy to me to have seenone of whom I have often heard. Yet we must leave you now, for I must bewith the King of Spain ere your army crosses the mountains."
"I had thought that you were in Spain with the valiant Henry ofTrastamare."
"I have been there, but I came to France to raise succor for him. Ishall ride back, Nigel, with four thousand of the best lances of Franceat my back, so that your prince may find he hath a task which is worthyof him. God be with you, friend, and may we meet again in better times!"
"I do not think," said Sir Nigel, as he stood by Alleyne's side lookingafter the French knight and his lady, "that in all Christendom you willmeet with a more stout-hearted man or a fairer and sweeter dame. Butyour face is pale and sad, Alleyne! Have you perchance met with somehurt during the ruffle?"
"Nay, my fair lord, I was but thinking of my friend Ford, and how he satupon my couch no later than yesternight."
Sir Nigel shook his head sadly. "Two brave squires have I lost," saidhe. "I know not why the young shoots should be plucked, and an old weedleft standing, yet certes there must be some good reason, since God hathso planned it. Did you not note, Alleyne, that the Lady Tiphaine didgive us warning last night that danger was coming upon us?"
"She did, my lord."
"By Saint Paul! my mind misgives me as to what she saw at TwynhamCastle. And yet I cannot think that any Scottish or French rovers couldland in such force as to beleaguer the fortalice. Call the Companytogether, Aylward; and let us on, for it will be shame to us if we arenot at Dax upon the trysting day."
The archers had spread themselves over the ruins, but a blast upon abugle brought them all back to muster, with such booty as they couldbear with them stuffed into their pouches or slung over their shoulders.As they formed into ranks, each man dropping silently into his place,Sir Nigel ran a questioning eye over them, and a smile of pleasureplayed over his face. Tall and sinewy, and brown, clear-eyed,hard-featured, with the stern and prompt bearing of experiencedsoldiers, it would be hard indeed for a leader to seek for a choicerfollowing. Here and there in the ranks were old soldiers of the Frenchwars, grizzled and lean, with fierce, puckered features and shaggy,bristling brows. The most, however, were young and dandy archers, withfresh English faces, their beards combed out, their hair curling fromunder their close steel hufkens, with gold or jewelled earrings gleamingin their ears, while their gold-spangled baldrics, their silken belts,and the chains which many of them wore round their thick brown necks,all spoke of the brave times which they had had as free companions. Eachhad a yew or hazel stave slung over his shoulder, plain and serviceablewith the older men, but gaudily painted and carved at either end withthe others. Steel caps, mail brigandines, white surcoats with the redlion of St. George, and sword or battle-axe swinging from their belts,completed this equipment, while in some cases the murderous maule orfive-foot mallet was hung across the bowstave, being fastened to theirleathern shoulder-belt by a hook in the centre of the handle. SirNigel's heart beat high as he looked upon their free bearing andfearless faces.
For two hours they marched through forest and marshland, along the leftbank of the river Aveyron; Sir Nigel riding behind his Company, withAlleyne at his right hand, and Johnston, the old master bowman, walkingby his left stirrup. Ere they had reached their journey's end the knighthad learned all that he would know of his men, their doings and theirintentions. Once, as they marched, they saw upon the further bank of theriver a body of French men-at-arms, riding very swiftly in the directionof Villefranche.
"It is the Seneschal of Toulouse, with his following," said Johnston,shading his eyes with his hand. "Had he been on this side of the waterhe might have attempted something upon us."
"I think that it would be well that we should cross," said Sir Nigel."It were pity to balk this worthy seneschal, should he desire to trysome small feat of arms."
"Nay, there is no ford nearer than Tourville," answered the old archer."He is on his way to Villefranche, and short will be the shrift of anyJacks who come into his hands, for he is a man of short speech. Itwas he and the Seneschal of Beaucaire who hung Peter Wilkins, of theCompany, last Lammastide; for which, by the black rood of Waltham! theyshall hang themselves, if ever they come into our power. But here areour comrades, Sir Nigel, and here is our camp."
As he spoke, the forest pathway along which they marched opened out intoa green glade, which sloped down towards the river. High, leafless treesgirt it in on three sides, with a thick undergrowth of holly betweentheir trunks. At the farther end of this forest clearing there stoodforty or fifty huts, built very neatly from wood and clay, with theblue smoke curling out from the roofs. A dozen tethered horses and mulesgrazed around the encampment, while a number of archers lounged about:some shooting at marks, while others built up great wooden fires in theopen, and hung their cooking kettles above them. At the sight of theirreturning comrades there was a shout of welcome, and a horseman, whohad been exercising his charger behind the camp, came cantering downto them. He was a dapper, brisk man, very richly clad, with a round,clean-shaven face, and very bright black eyes, which danced and sparkledwith excitement.
"Sir Nigel!" he cried. "Sir Nigel Loring, at last! By my soul we haveawaited you this month past. Right welcome, Sir Nigel! You have had myletter?"
"It was that which brought me here," said Sir Nigel. "But indeed, SirClaude Latour, it is a great wonder to me that you did not yourself leadthese bowmen, for surely they could have found no better leader?"
"None, none, by the Virgin of L'Esparre!" he cried, speaking in thestrange, thick Gascon speech which turns every _v_ into a _b_. "But youknow what these islanders of yours are, Sir Nigel. They will not be ledby any save their own blood and race. There is no persuading them.Not even I, Claude Latour Seigneur of Montchateau, master of the highjustice, the middle and the low, could gain their favor. They must needshold a council and put their two hundred thick heads together, and thenthere comes this fellow Aylward and another, as their spokesmen, to saythat they will disband unless an Englishman of good name be set overthem. There are many of them, as I understand, who come from some greatforest which lies in Hampi, or Hampti--I cannot lay my tongue to thename. Your dwelling is in those parts, and so their thoughts turned toyou as their leader. But we had hoped that you would bring a hundred menwith you."
"They are already at Dax, where we shall join them," said Sir Nigel."But let the men break their fast, and we shall then take counsel whatto do."
"Come into my hut," said Sir Claude. "It is but poor fare that I can laybefore you--milk, cheese, wine, and bacon--yet your squire and yourselfwill doubtless excuse it. This is my house where the pennon flies beforethe door--a small residence to contain the Lord of Montchateau."
Sir Nigel sat silent and distrait at his meal, while Alleyne hearkenedto the clattering tongue of the Gascon, and to his talk of the gloriesof his own estate, his successes in love, and his triumphs in war.
"And now that you are here, Sir Nigel," he said at last, "I have manyfine ventures all ready for us. I have heard that Montpezat is of nogreat strength, and that there are two hundred thousand crowns in thecastle. At Castelnau also there is a cobbler who is in my pay, and whowill throw us a rope any dark night from his house by the town wall. Ipromise you that you sh
all thrust your arms elbow-deep among good silverpieces ere the nights are moonless again; for on every hand of us arefair women, rich wine, and good plunder, as much as heart could wish."
"I have other plans," answered Sir Nigel curtly; "for I have come hitherto lead these bowmen to the help of the prince, our master, who may havesore need of them ere he set Pedro upon the throne of Spain. It is mypurpose to start this very day for Dax upon the Adour, where he hath nowpitched his camp."
The face of the Gascon darkened, and his eyes flashed with resentment."For me," he said, "I care little for this war, and I find the lifewhich I lead a very joyous and pleasant one. I will not go to Dax."
"Nay, think again, Sir Claude," said Sir Nigel gently; "for you haveever had the name of a true and loyal knight. Surely you will not holdback now when your master hath need of you."
"I will not go to Dax," the other shouted.
"But your devoir--your oath of fealty?"
"I say that I will not go."
"Then, Sir Claude, I must lead the Company without you."
"If they will follow," cried the Gascon with a sneer. "These are nothired slaves, but free companions, who will do nothing save by their owngood wills. In very sooth, my Lord Loring, they are ill men to triflewith, and it were easier to pluck a bone from a hungry bear than to leada bowman out of a land of plenty and of pleasure."
"Then I pray you to gather them together," said Sir Nigel, "and I willtell them what is in my mind; for if I am their leader they must to Dax,and if I am not then I know not what I am doing in Auvergne. Have myhorse ready, Alleyne; for, by St. Paul! come what may, I must be uponthe homeward road ere mid-day."
A blast upon the bugle summoned the bowmen to counsel, and they gatheredin little knots and groups around a great fallen tree which lay athwartthe glade. Sir Nigel sprang lightly upon the trunk, and stood withblinking eye and firm lips looking down at the ring of upturned warlikefaces.
"They tell me, bowmen," said he, "that ye have grown so fond of ease andplunder and high living that ye are not to be moved from this pleasantcountry. But, by Saint Paul! I will believe no such thing of you, forI can readily see that you are all very valiant men, who would scorn tolive here in peace when your prince hath so great a venture before him.Ye have chosen me as a leader, and a leader I will be if ye come withme to Spain; and I vow to you that my pennon of the five roses shall, ifGod give me strength and life, be ever where there is most honor tobe gained. But if it be your wish to loll and loiter in these glades,bartering glory and renown for vile gold and ill-gotten riches, thenye must find another leader; for I have lived in honor, and in honor Itrust that I shall die. If there be forest men or Hampshire men amongstye, I call upon them to say whether they will follow the banner ofLoring."
"Here's a Romsey man for you!" cried a young bowman with a sprig ofevergreen set in his helmet.
"And a lad from Alresford!" shouted another.
"And from Milton!"
"And from Burley!"
"And from Lymington!"
"And a little one from Brockenhurst!" shouted a huge-limbed fellow whosprawled beneath a tree.
"By my hilt! lads," cried Aylward, jumping upon the fallen trunk, "Ithink that we could not look the girls in the eyes if we let the princecross the mountains and did not pull string to clear a path for him.It is very well in time of peace to lead such a life as we have hadtogether, but now the war-banner is in the wind once more, and, by theseten finger-bones! if he go alone, old Samkin Aylward will walk besideit."
These words from a man as popular as Aylward decided many of thewaverers, and a shout of approval burst from his audience.
"Far be it from me," said Sir Claude Latour suavely, "to persuade youagainst this worthy archer, or against Sir Nigel Loring; yet we havebeen together in many ventures, and perchance it may not be amiss if Isay to you what I think upon the matter."
"Peace for the little Gascon!" cried the archers. "Let every man havehis word. Shoot straight for the mark, lad, and fair play for all."
"Bethink you, then," said Sir Claude, "that you go under a hard rule,with neither freedom nor pleasure--and for what? For sixpence a day,at the most; while now you may walk across the country and stretch outeither hand to gather in whatever you have a mind for. What do we nothear of our comrades who have gone with Sir John Hawkwood to Italy? Inone night they have held to ransom six hundred of the richest noblemenof Mantua. They camp before a great city, and the base burghers comeforth with the keys, and then they make great spoil; or, if it pleasethem better, they take so many horse-loads of silver as a composition;and so they journey on from state to state, rich and free and feared byall. Now, is not that the proper life for a soldier?"
"The proper life for a robber!" roared Hordle John, in his thunderingvoice.
"And yet there is much in what the Gascon says," said a swarthy fellowin a weather-stained doublet; "and I for one would rather prosper inItaly than starve in Spain."
"You were always a cur and a traitor, Mark Shaw," cried Aylward. "Bymy hilt! if you will stand forth and draw your sword I will warrant youthat you will see neither one nor the other."
"Nay, Aylward," said Sir Nigel, "we cannot mend the matter by broiling.Sir Claude, I think that what you have said does you little honor, andif my words aggrieve you I am ever ready to go deeper into the matterwith you. But you shall have such men as will follow you, and you maygo where you will, so that you come not with us. Let all who lovetheir prince and country stand fast, while those who think more of awell-lined purse step forth upon the farther side."
Thirteen bowmen, with hung heads and sheepish faces, stepped forwardwith Mark Shaw and ranged themselves behind Sir Claude. Amid thehootings and hissings of their comrades, they marched off together tothe Gascon's hut, while the main body broke up their meeting and setcheerily to work packing their possessions, furbishing their weapons,and preparing for the march which lay before them. Over the Tarn and theGaronne, through the vast quagmires of Armagnac, past the swift-flowingLosse, and so down the long valley of the Adour, there was many along league to be crossed ere they could join themselves to that darkwar-cloud which was drifting slowly southwards to the line of the snowypeaks, beyond which the banner of England had never yet been seen.