CHAPTER II.
THE MEN OF THE WOODS.
Lacking in many things, but not in stately hospitality or in honestloyalty, was the welcome given that night at Wartmont Castle to the heirof the English throne and to his company.
Truth to tell, the fortunes of this branch of the great house of Nevillewere not at their best. The brave Sir Edward Neville had fallen inFlanders fighting for the king. His widow and her only son had foundthemselves possessed of much land, but of little else. Too many acres ofthe domain were either forest or hill, that paid neither tithe norrental. Not even Lady Maud's near kinship to the Earl of Warwick was asyet of any avail, for these were troublous times. Many a baron of highname was finding it more and more difficult to comply with the exactionsof Edward the Third, and the king himself could hardly name a day whenhis very crown and jewels had not been in pawn with the money lenders.
The less of discomfort, therefore, was felt by Lady Maud; but she wasgrateful that the prince and the famous captain, Sir Walter, so franklylaughed away her apologies at their parting the next morn.
"I am but an esquire," said the prince. "My royal father biddeth me towear plain armor and seek hard fare until I win my spurs. Thou hastgiven me better service than he alloweth me."
"Most noble lady," added Sir Walter, "I am proud to have been the guestof the widow of my old companion in arms----"
"Be thou, then, a friend to his son," she broke in earnestly.
"That will I," responded De Maunay, "but we may not serve togetherspeedily. I go to confer with the Earl of Warwick. Then I am bidden tojoin Derby's forces in Guienne and Gascony. Hard goeth the war there. Asfor thy son, he, too, should come to Warwick with his first levies. Theking hath ordered the power of the realm to gather at Portsmouth by theninth day of next October."
"I must be there, mother," said Richard.
"Bring thy archers with thee, if thou canst," replied Sir Walter. "It isthe king's thought that his next great field is to be won with thearrow, rather than the sword or the lance. But he will have only goodbows, and them he will train under his own eye. It is time, now, for ourgoing."
The young prince, like the knight, gave the respectful ceremony ofdeparture to the Lady of Wartmont, but much of youthful franknessmingled with his words and manner to Richard.
"I envy thee, indeed," he said to him, "thy close with the Club ofDevon. I have never yet had such a fortune befall me. I have seen fightsby sea and land, but ever some other hand than mine struck the bestblow."
"Thou wilt strike blows enough before thou art done, thou lion's cub ofEngland," said Sir Walter admiringly, for he loved the boy. That wasgood reason, too, why he was with him on this journey with so small acompany.
"Few, are they?" had Richard responded to a word from his motherconcerning peril to the prince. "I have marked them, man by man. I thinkthey have been picked from the best of the king's men-at-arms. A hundredthieves would go down before them like brambles before a scythe. And theprince told me he thought it scorn to need other guards than his ownpeople----"
"And his own sword," she said, "and the lances of De Maunay and his men.But the roads are not safe."
"Thou wilt be securely conveyed to Warwick, O my mother," he saidlovingly. "I will not leave thee until thou art within the earl's ownwalls."
This had been spoken early in the day after the conflict with theoutlaws, and now the horsemen were in their saddles, beyond the bridgeof the moat, waiting for the prince and the knight.
Their waiting ended, and it was fair to see how lightly the greatcaptain and his young friend, in spite of their heavy armor, did springto horseback.
Gracious and low was their last salute to the bare, white head of LadyMaud at the portal, and then away they rode right merrily.
"O my son!" exclaimed she, turning to Richard at her side, "I can wishno better fortune for thee than to be the companion of thy prince. Itell thee, thou hast won much by this thy defense of thy mother and thypeople."
"Aye," said Richard, laughing, "but thou wast the captain. I found theeleading thy array, and I did but help at my best. I would Sir Walterwere to be with us, and not with the Earl of Derby."
"There be men-at-arms as good as he," she said. "Thou wilt have braveleaders to learn war under. And, above all, thou wilt be with thy king.Men say there hath not been one like him to lead men since William theNorman conquered this fair land. Thou, too, art a Neville and a Norman,but forget thou not one thing."
"And what may that be, my mother?" asked Richard, wondering somewhat.
"Knowest thou not thy hold upon the people, nor why the bowmen of Ardenforest come to thee rather than to another? Neville and Beauchamp, thouart a Saxon more than a Norman. Thy father could talk to the men of thewoods in their old tongue. It dieth away slowly, but they keep manythings in mind from father to son. Every man of them is a Saxon ofunmixed blood, and to that degree that thou art Saxon thou art theirkinsman. So hated they Earl Mortimer and would have none of him, and sohe harried them, as thou hast heard. They will stand by thee as theirown."
"So will I bide by them!" exclaimed Richard stoutly. "And now there isone yonder that I must have speech with. I pray thee, go in, my mother."
"That will I not," she said. "It behooveth me to pass through thehamlet, house by house, till I know how they fare the day. There arehurts among both men and women, and I am a leech. Are they not my own?"
"And well they love thee," said her son, and they walked on down theslope side by side.
That they did so love her was well made manifest when men, women, andchildren crowded around her. Every voice had its tale of things done, orseen, or heard, and there was wailing also, for the few who had escapedfrom near Black Tom's place were here, and others from farther on. Darkand dire had been the deeds of the robber crew from the Welsh border tothe heart of Warwickshire, and great was the praise that wouldeverywhere be given to the young lord of Wartmont manor and his bravemen. The Club of Devon and his outlaws would be heard of or feared nomore. 'Twas a deed to be remembered and told of, in after time, amongthe fireside talks of the midland counties.
The madame now had household visits to make not a few, and Richardlistened long to the talk of the farmers and the village men. He seemedto have grown older in a day, but his mother said, in her heart:
"I can see that the folk are gladdened to find that he is so like to thebrave knight, his father. God keep him, among the spears and thebattle-axes of the French men-at-arms! I fear he is over young to ridewith such as serve with the prince."
She could not think to hold him back, but he was her only son, and shewas a widow.
Patiently, all the while, a little apart from the rest, had waited theburly shape of Guy the Bow, and with him was no other forester, butbeside him stood his shaggy-maned galloway.
"Thou art come?" said Richard. "Brave thanks to thee and thine. Whaterrand hast thou, if so be thou hast any for me?"
"I bided out of seeing till the prince and Lord de Maunay rode on,"replied Guy. "Even now I would no other ears than thine were too nearus."
"This way, then," said Richard, turning to walk toward the moat. "Ihave somewhat to say to thee as we go."
None joined them, and as they walked the archer was informed concerningthe mandates of the king and the mustering by land and sea atPortsmouth.
"I have been there," said Guy, "in my youth. 'Tis not so far to go. 'Tiswell in behind the Isle of Wight. I have been told by seafaring men thatthe French have never taken it, though they tried. A safe haven. Butthere are others as safe on the land. Part of my coming to thee is toask that thou wilt venture to look in on one."
"I may not venture foolishly or without a cause," said Richard. "Thee Imay trust, but all are not as thou art."
"All thou wilt see are keepers of good faith when they give troth,"laughed Guy pleasantly, "or else more in Wartmont would know what tothis day they know not. My Lord of Wartmont, plain speech is best. Themen who are to go with thee are under the king's ban, as thou kn
owest.They will not put themselves within the reach of the sheriff ofWarwickshire till they are sure of safety. They will hear the king'sproclamation from thine own lips, for thou hast it from the princehimself. A man's neck is a thing he is prone to guard right well."
"Go and have speech with them? That will I!" exclaimed Richardpromptly. "Nor is there time to lose. I will bid them bring myhorse----"
"Not as thou now art," responded Guy. "Don thou thy mail. Be thou wellarmed. But men of thine from the castle may not ride with us. I havethat to show thee which they may not see. Wilt thou trust me?"
"That will I," said Richard.
"And thine own sword is a good one," added the archer, with soldierlyadmiration in his face. "I have seen thy father in tourney. Thou wilthave good stature and strong thews, as had he in his day. They say 'twasa great battle when he fell among the press, and that many good spearswent down."
"Aye. Go!" said Richard thoughtfully. "I will explain this thing to mymother. She needeth but to know that I go to meet a muster of the men."
"Nay," said Guy. "Fear thou not to tell my lady all. In her girlhood shewas kept, a day and a night, where none could do her harm, for the Welshwere over the border, under Lewellyn the Cruel, and the castle of herfather was not safe. She was not a Neville then, and the Beauchamps fledfor their lives."
"What was the quarrel?" asked Richard.
"Little know I," replied the archer. "What have plain woodsmen to dowith the feuds of the great? Some trouble, mayhap, between King Edwardthe Second and his earls. We aye heard of fights and ravages in thosedays, but there came none to harry us in Arden."
So they talked but little more, and Richard passed on into the castlefollowed by Guy the Bow.
Their first errand was to the hall of arms in the lower story, and theeyes of the forester glittered with delight as they entered.
"Thou couldst arm a troop!" he exclaimed. "What goodly weapons arethese!"
"Wartmont hath held a garrison more than once," said Richard. "Pray Godthat our good king may keep the land in peace. But it needeth that hishand be strong."
"Strong is it," said Guy, "and the young prince biddeth fair. I like himwell. But, my Lord of Wartmont, the noon draweth nigher and we have farto ride."
"Aye," said Richard; but he was taking down from the wall piece afterpiece and weapon after weapon, eying them as if he loved them well butwas in doubt.
"No plate armor, my lord," said Guy. "It were too heavy if thou went onfoot. Let it be good chain mail; but take thee a visored headpiece. Withthy visor down strange eyes would not know thee too well. Leg mail, notgreaves, and a good, light target rather than a horseman's shield. Thisis a rare good lance."
"That will I take," said Richard, as he tested a sword blade byspringing it on the stone pavement of the hall. "I will hang a mace atmy pommel."
"Thou art a bowman," said Guy. "Thy bow and quiver also can hang at thysaddle. Nay, not that heavy bit of yew. Thy arms are too young to bendit well. Choose thee a lighter bow."
"I will string it, then, and show thee," replied Richard, a littlehaughtily. "Yon is a target at the head of the hall. Wait, now."
The bow was strung with an ease and celerity which seemed to surprisethe brawny forester. He took it and tried its toughness and handed itback, for Richard had taken an arrow from a sheaf beneath a window.
"Good arm, thine!" shouted Guy, for the shaft was drawn to the head andlanded in the very center of the bull's eye of the wooden tablet at thehall end. "Thou art a Saxon in thy elbows. Canst thou swing an axe likethis?"
He held out a double-headed battle-axe that seemed not large. It was nottoo long in the handle, but its blades were thick as well as sharpedged. It was no weapon for one at all weak-handed.
Clogs of wood lay near, with many cuts already upon them, as if therehad been chopping done. Richard took the axe and went toward a clog ofhard oak.
Click, click, click, in swift succession, rang his blows, and the chipsflew merrily.
"Done!" shouted Guy. "Take that, then, instead of thy foolish mace. Itwill but bruise, while thine axe will cleave through mail or buff coat.Ofttimes a cut is better than a bruise, if it be well given. I would Ihad a good axe."
"Take what thou wilt," said Richard. "Put thee on a better headpiece,and change thy sword. If thou seest spears to thy liking, they arethine; or daggers, or aught else. We owe thee good arming."
"Speak I also for Ben o' Coventry," responded Guy. "He needeth aheadpiece, for his own is but cracked across the crown, and his sword isnot of the best."
"Choose as thou wilt for Ben," said Richard, "or for any other as goodas he. Needeth he mail?"
"His buff coat is more to his liking," said Guy, "and men say that theking will not have his bowmen overweighted for fast walking. The wearyman draweth never a good bow, nor sendeth his arrow home."
"Right is the king," replied Richard. "I am but a youth, but I can seethat a foe might get away from heavy armor."
Guy was busy among the weapons and he made no answer. At that moment,however, there was a footfall behind him, and he sprang to his feet tomake a low obeisance.
"Mother!" exclaimed Richard, "I was coming to tell thee."
But not to him was her speech, nor in Norman French, nor in the Englishdialect of the Warwickshire farmers. She questioned Guy in old Saxon,such as was not often heard since the edicts of the Norman kings haddiscouraged its use. Richard could speak it well, however, and he knewthat Guy was explaining somewhat the errand before him.
"It is well," she said. "I will trust him with thee. The castle is safe.But hold him not too long, for I make myself ready to pass on toWarwick, to abide with the earl for a season."
"Right soon will he return," said Guy the Bow, "and good bows with him.The king shall be pleased with the company from Arden and Wartmont."
Small wonder was it, after all, that while all Welshmen retained theirancient tongue, and many Cornishmen, and the Manxmen all, and the Gaelsof Scotland and the wild Erse of Ireland, so also many thousands--no oneknew how many--in the rural districts of England, still preserved butlittle changed the language with which their fathers had answered toHarold, the last of the Saxon kings. Hundreds of years later the tracesof it lingered in Warwickshire, Lincolnshire, Yorkshire, Lancashire, andelsewhere, in a manner to confuse the ears of modernized men from thetowns and from the coasts, as well as all outland men who might believethat they understood English.
Well did Guy obey the commands of both Richard and his mother; for when,after a hearty breaking of his fast, he stood by the side of hisgalloway, that good beast had cause to whinny as he did, as if toinquire of his master what need there might be that he should so bepacked with weapons and with steel caps for the heads of men. Thegallant animal that was to carry Richard, on the other hand, was fittedout and laden as if at any moment his rider might be changed from alance-bearing man-at-arms to a bowman on foot. Other baggage there wasnone, and Lady Maud, from her crenelated peephole in the Wartmont keep,saw her son and his companion ride slowly away through the village.
"Heaven guard him!" she murmured. "But he can not gain too well thehearts of the old race. They be hard-headed men and slow to choose aleader, but they are strong in a fray. I would the tallest of the forestdeerslayers should go shoulder to shoulder with my son into the king'sbattles."
So she gazed until the pair of horsemen disappeared along the road;then she descended a flight of stairs and walked to the end of acorridor. Here was a door that opened into a high vaulted chamber, atthe far end of which were candles burning before an altar and acrucifix. This was the chapel of the castle, and Lady Maud's feet boreher on, more and more slowly, until she sank upon her knees at the altarrail and sobbed aloud.
Well away now, up the valley, northward, rode Richard Neville and Guythe Bow, but they were no longer in any road marked by wheels of wains.They had left the highway for a narrow bridle path that was leading theminto the forest.
"My Lord of Wartmont," said the archer, "I pray t
hee mark well the wayas thou goest. Chance might be that thou shouldst one day travel italone. Put thou thine axe to the bark of a tree, now and then, and letit be a mark of thine own, not like that of another. I think no man ofknightly race now liveth who could guide thee, going or coming."
In an instant Richard's battle-axe was in his hand, and a great oak hadreceived a mark of a double cross.
"There hangeth a shield in the gallery of the armory," he said, "that isblazoned in this wise. It is said that a good knight brought it homefrom Spain, in the old wars. Well is it dinted, too, in proof that itfended the blows of strong fighters. It is thrust through and it iscloven."
"Mayhap in frays with the heathen," said Guy. "A sailor, once, atPortsmouth, one of our own kin, told me rare tales of the Moors that hehad seen in the Spanish seas. He told me of men that were black as asloe; but it is hard to believe, for what should blacken any man? He hadseen a whale, too, and a shark three fathoms long. There be wondersbeyond seas."
"And beyond them all is the end of the world," said Richard, "but theships do not venture that far to their ruin."
So more and more companionlike and brotherly grew the young lord and theforester, as they rode on together, and it seemed to please Guy wellboth to loosen his own tongue and to ask many questions concerningmatters of which little telling had ever yet come in among the forestsof Arden.
The day waned and the path wound much, and there was increasing gloomamong the trees and thickets, when Guy turned suddenly to Richard.
"Put down thy visor," he said sharply, "and draw thy sword. We arebeset! Sling thy lance behind thee, and get thee down upon thy feet.This is no place to sit upon a horse and be made a mark of."
The actions of both were suited to the word on the instant, but hardlywas Richard's helmet closed before an arrow struck him on the crest.But that he had been forewarned, it had smitten him through the face.
"Outlaws!" said Guy. "Robbers--not our own men. How they came here Iknow not. Down, quickly!"
Even as he spoke, however, his bow twanged loudly, and a cry went upfrom a dense copse beyond them.
"One!" he shouted, and he and Richard sprang lightly to the earth.
"Well my sword was out!" said the latter as he gained his feet, forbounding toward him were half a dozen wild shapes carrying blade andbuckler.
"Down with them!" roared the foremost of the assailants; but Guy the Bowwas in front of him, and in his hand was a poleaxe from Wartmont armory.
It was a fearful weapon in the hands of such a man as he, to whom itsweight was as a splinter. It flashed and fell, and the lifted bucklerbefore it might as well have been an eggshell for all the protection itgave to the bare head of the robber. He should have worn a helmet, buthe would never more need cap of any kind. Useless, too, was the lightblade that glinted next upon the shield of Richard, for it made no mark,while its giver went down with a thigh wound, struck below his buckler.
On swept the terrible blows of the poleaxe, and Guy had no man to meetbut was nearly a head shorter than himself.
"They are all down!" he shouted. "Mount, my Lord of Wartmont; they inthe copse have fled, but there may be more at hand. We will ride hardnow. These are thieves from Lancashire, and they have not been heard ofin these parts for many a day. I think they have been harried out oftheir own nests. They are but wolves."
"What kin are they?" asked Richard, as he regained his saddle.
"That I know not, nor do I know their speech," replied Guy. "But amongthem are no tall men nor many good bows. Ben o' Coventry hath been toldby a monk from those parts that they are a kind of old Welsh that wereleft when the first King Edward smote their tribe to death. They willlive in no town, nor will they obey any law, nor keep troth with any.But the monk told Ben that they were not heathen, and among them weremen who could talk Latin like a priest. How that could be I know not."
"Nor I," said Richard; "but I tell thee, Guy the Bow, I like this war ofthe king's with France. We shall cross the sea, and we shall look uponstrange lands and towns. I would not bide aye at Wartmont. I would seethe world."
"That would not I," laughed Guy, "but if the king winneth battles andtaketh towns there will be spoils to bring home. I will come back to ownland and cattle, and thou canst build again thy castle walls andmaintain thy state. I saw a piece of gold once."
"There is little enough of gold in England," said Richard; but the pathwas narrowing and they could no longer gallop abreast.
Not far had they pushed on, however, before Guy drew his rein and turnedupon his galloway to say, in a hushed voice:
"My Lord of Wartmont, I dare not sound a horn. I pray thee dismount andcome after me through the hazels. I know not of peril, but we need to golightly."
"Aye," returned Richard, as he dropped from the saddle nimbly enoughconsidering his arms. "I am with thee."
Path there seemed to be none in that dim light, but ere long, as hefollowed his guide, the hazel bushes on either side opened widely andbefore him spread a grassy level. Only that the grass was too luxuriantand that here and there were rushes, it might have seemed a pleasantglade.
"'Tis the southerly arm," said Guy, "of the great moss of Arden. Thereis little more of it till you get leagues north of this. Oh, but it'sdeep and fateful. He who steppeth into it cometh not up."
"What do we, then?" asked Richard.
"That which few may dare," replied Guy with one of his brave laughs."But a piece onward and I will show thee. Here might be barred an army."
"That might they," said Richard, staring across the treacherous greenlevel, below which, Guy told him, there was no bottom.
Beyond were shadowy lines that told of forest growths, and these werenearer as they led their horses onward.
"A bridge!" exclaimed Richard, as he caught a glimpse of a mass of logsand planks. "Is there crossing?"
"None but what the men of the woods can take away before dawn," saidGuy. "It is a bridge that some have crossed who came not back again. Ipray thee, speak not save in old Saxon. 'Tis the only tongue that may beheard inside o' the moss of Arden."
Richard spoke not aloud, but he was saying much in his thoughts.
"This, then, is the reason why the sheriff of Warwickshire had missedfinding many that were traced to the forest. The takers of the king'sdeer know where to hide their venison. But even on this bridge a fewaxemen could hold back a troop. Yonder bushes could hide archery. Hewould be a bold captain, or crack-brained, who would lead men upon thisnarrow way."
The woodwork trembled somewhat with the weight of the two horses andthe men, but it bore them well enough.
"Hail, thou!" came hoarsely from among the shadows as they reached thefarther bank. "Come well. Thou hast him with thee."
"Greet them in Saxon," whispered Guy, and he also responded loudly:
"Hail, men, all! Is Ben o' Coventry with ye? This is Richard ofWartmont, with the king's word in his mouth. I gave him safe conduct,and his mother sendeth ye good greeting."
Something like a cheer arose from several voices, but the speakers wereunseen until Guy and Richard had passed on many paces into the forest.Even then only dark and silent forms walked with them, and there weregleams of bright spearheads before them and behind.
"Every man hath his bow and his buckler," thought Richard, "and most ofthem are sturdy fellows. The king hath need of such. It is said that theoutland men are smaller in the bones."
It was the prevailing opinion among the English of that day that one oftheir own was equivalent to four Frenchmen, and they counted as Frenchnearly all of the dwellers beyond the Channel, except the Hollanders andthe Danes, or Norsemen. The Norway folk were also, by the greater part,counted as Danes, and were believed to be hard fighters. So, among thecountry folk, still lingered the traditions of the ancient days, whenKnut and his vikings had swept the coast and conquered the island.
It was a walk of a league, and there was some talking by the way, butthe men all seemed in haste and they strode rapidly.
Then the
y were greeted by loud shouting, and Richard saw a red lightgrow beyond the trees.
"Here is cleared land," was his next thought, "and yonder is a balefire.Ho! In the king's name, what is this? Are there strongholds hidden amongthe woods?"
Before him, as he went forward, was an open area which may havecontained hundreds of acres. He could see broad reaches of it by theglaring light of a huge heap of burning wood, a few score yards from theedge of the forest. Beyond the fire, as much farther, he could discernthe outlines of a large building, and, even more distinctly, a long lineof palisades in front of it.
"My lord," said Guy, "yonder is the hidden ward in Arden. If any thatare great of thy kinsmen ever heard of it, they told thee not. There wasthy mother fended, and there thy father lay long days, when EarlMortimer's men were seeking his head. Thou art welcome, only let thylips be as our own concerning our hold. It will be kept well shouldstrangers come."
Richard glanced at the rugged forms around him, and at many more thatwere walking hither and thither in the firelight. All were armed, and hecould well believe that they would make Guy's word good for him. Theycrowded around as he drew near, and there was an increasing heartinessin their manner and words as he continually replied to them in theforgotten tongue. He knew not of gypsies, or the thought might have cometo him that these half-outlaws, every man a deerslayer, under the ban ofthe stern forest laws, had need, as had the Romany or "Bohemians" asthey were called, to possess a speech of their own. It was a protection,inasmuch as it aided them in detecting intruders and in secretlycommunicating with each other.
There seemed to be no chief man, no captain, but all stood on a kind ofrude equality, save that much deference was paid to Guy the Bow.
"Right on to the house, if it please thee, my lord," he said. "It islate, and there is roast venison waiting. Thou mayest well be hungered.Is all ready, Ben o' Coventry?"
"All that's to be eaten," responded Ben, "but the talking with the menmust be done on the morrow. They from the upper woods are not in. Itwas well to slay the Lancashire thieves. Some have gone out after whatthou and he did leave. They may not tell tales of aught they have seenin Arden."
A few words more of explanation informed Richard that he was theresooner than had been expected, and he was quite willing to let his wildentertainers have their own way.
"I would see all," he said, "and talk to all at once."
"There might be jealousies," whispered Guy. "Thou doest wisely. Here isthe gate."
A vast oaken portal heavily strengthened with iron swung open in theline of the bristling palisades while he was speaking. There was a moat,of course, with a bridge of planks to the gate, over which Richard andthose who were with him went in. The inclosure beyond was large, and init was blazing more than one log heap, the better to light up thebuildings.
Some would have called it a grange, if there had not been so much of it,for there were more houses than one, all grouped, attached or built onto a central structure. There was no masonry, but the woodwork wasexceedingly heavy and strong. If there were more than one story to thegrange, it must have been hidden under the high-pitched roofs, for therewere no upper windows. Such of these as could be seen below were allclosed with heavy swing shutters, nor was there any chimney on any roof.
This was the manner in which the West Saxons of Harold's time buildedthe palaces of their chiefs and earls.