The Red Tavern
CHAPTER VI
THE PAVILION OF PURPLE AND BLACK
It was a trifle past midnight when de Claverlok and the men he hadcommissioned to bring with him halted in the highroad before the doorof the Red Tavern. Coincident with their arrival the hitherto desertedand lonely appearing hostelry was magically metamorphosed into ahive of buzzing industry. The near vicinity of the building becamebrilliantly illuminated with the flare of many links, the iron pikes ofwhich had been struck into the earth from the roadway to the entranceof the inn. That the scene was one of martial activities could in nowise be mistaken, for the yellow light of the torches was reflectedand repeated against a goodly number of steel cuirasses and polishedbucklers.
Beside Tyrrell, near the doorway, stood a thin and rather under-sizedman, wearing an intricately plaited coat of light chain mail, overwhich was drawn a white linen tunic, with a crimson Maltese crossemblazoned upon the breast, after the fashion of the ancient Crusaders.This individual, conspicuous alone because of the simplicity of hisdress when contrasted with those about him, was the famed diplomatist,warrior, statesman, shrewd conspirator, and eminent churchman, LordBishop Kennedy, to whom Tyrrell looked ever for council and advice,and who, in reality, had been the brains and backbone of the movementthat had been designed to set the youthful Duke of York upon the throneof England. Here was a man possessing that strength of characterthat permitted him to remain always in the background. From whencehe was wont to view the vast schemes in which he became involved asa whole, much as the successful general might select a high eminencefrom which to overlook and direct the maneuvres of his army. Whileindolence was at times attributed to him, on account of a certainreserve and unobtrusiveness of manner, to those who knew him well hewas known to be indefatigably energetic. It was said of him, indeed,that he never slept, saving with an open eye to his tent-flap, ordoorway. In Sir James Tyrrell, Bishop Kennedy had achieved a notablybrilliant confederate--a man of ideas, a born inventor, but visionaryto a perilous degree. Tyrrell was not suffered to be awakened out ofhis dream that he was the real leader; though, in point of truth, hewas but nominally such. If, however, the block were to claim its titheof vengeance, Tyrrell's head, and not Lord Kennedy's, would have beenamong those selected. Kennedy regarded politics as he did a game ofchess, and was marvelously proficient in playing both. "A knight, oreven a despised pawn," he was known to have said, "may say 'check' toa king, but it is a wise precaution to have a bishop stationed on thelong diagonal."
"Thou art certain beyond all peradventure," he was saying to Tyrrell,"that thou canst not be mistaken as to the identity of thy find?"
"Aye--marry, am I, my lord," Tyrrell confidently replied. "I couldscarce be amiss in my recognition of the unusual birthmark. Besides,good bishop, did not the youth make confession of his lack of knowledgeof his progenitors?"
"Yea. But 'tis a common ignorance--that, friend Tyrrell. Of a truth,the stroke seemeth too timely and well-favored to be genuine," saidKennedy, who was never ready to accept the semblance of a fact forthe fact itself. "Here hath the earth had scarce time to grow coldabove the young duke, when up crops another candidate every whitas legitimate and proper. 'Twould appear, my friend, as though anincipient monarch were being reared in every wayside hovel. Yet--asthou hast said--thou couldst scarce have been mistaken in thebirthmark. If proven true, 'tis indeed a most providential stroke. Butthis very day have I learned that Lord Douglas is meditating a movelike unto thine. Already have I laid plans to gather more intimateparticulars--for thy express benefit, understand me. But I can lessonthee now that some hint of the young prince's existence and deathhath flown into his yawning ear. Keep a firm hold upon thy wits andtongue, for there is surely a traitor abroad, Sir James. More; I haveit that Douglas doth lay open claim to the possession of the livingperson of the genuine heir, and that there is now a gathering of theclans for the purpose of raising the counterfeit claimant to thethrone. Emissaries from Castle Yewe will come here to treat with theefor the combining of thy forces with Douglas's. An this youth of thinebe indeed the Earl of Warwick, son of George, Duke of Clarence, thoucanst laugh in Douglas's teeth. An it were not so, friend Tyrrell, thoucouldst do naught wiser than amalgamate issues. For thy life would beworth no more than a leaden farthing from the fury of thine own troop,an they were to be disbanded without chance of giving battle to Henry."
At this juncture four men drew beside the speakers, through the door,carrying Sir Richard, who had been rendered unconscious through themedium of Friar Diomed's narcotic. As gently as their rough hands couldaccomplish it, the young knight was placed in the covered litter, whichhad been standing along the highway awaiting his reception.
"I beg of thee, Sir James," said Lord Kennedy then, "procure forme from this young knight's wallet the warrant of which thou wertspeaking. I would I might know well its contents." The keen politicianmight easily have taken it himself, as it was his intention to travelnorthward with the horsemen and litter-bearers, but he desired toassure himself that the document would not remain behind in Tyrrell'skeeping. The time was likely to come when this piece of parchment wouldbe an invaluable political perquisite.
When the warrant had been secured and surrendered into his hands,Bishop Kennedy made quick work of breaking the seal that Tyrrell hadso deftly mended. By the light of one of the links he read it slowlythrough, nodding his head the while.
"'Tis well," he said when he had finished; "and I doff my bonnet tothee, Sir James, for a most fortunate and successful general."
Whereupon he folded up the parchment and thrust it carelessly withinhis bosom. Then, grasping Tyrrell's hand, he bade him adieu, swunghimself upon his horse and started in the train of the cavalcade, whichhad already begun its march from the inn.
In the light of the single torch remaining, Tyrrell stood beside thedoor till the noise of the moving company had dwindled to silencein the distance, after which he extinguished the blazing link anddisappeared within the lonely tavern.
It was nearing daybreak when the cavalcade, led by de Claverlok andLord Bishop Kennedy, filed past the sentinel outposts within the areaof the encampment. The bivouac had been set along the shore, withinsight and sound of the sea, and not above a dozen miles from the RedTavern; but, because of the litter-bearers, the men had been put tothe necessity of moving in a slow and deliberate manner, which factaccounted for their tardy progress in effecting the distance.
As Sir Lionel de Claverlok is destined to play a most important part inthis narrative of tangled conspiracies, it would doubtless be well nowto introduce him to the reader.
To begin with, he was a man who was loved and admired by his enemies,which, though it may appear anomalous, was nevertheless true. He was asrefreshing as a shower in spring; as open in his manner as a wind-sweptplain. Saving in the arts of warfare, however, of all of which he hadproven himself to be a surpassing master, he was uneducated. Everyrugged feature displayed between the shaggy thatch of his wiry,silver-shot hair, and the thick tangle of his disordered, curly beardbespoke at once the good fellow and indomitable warrior. Whilst,intuitively, one would take him for a person of gentle extraction,there was about him little, if anything, of the polished courtier.He had been too industriously engaged upon the business of his life,which was to conquer a complete understanding of war-craft, to yieldthought or time to the cultivation of the softer attainments of thecourt gallant. As to his physical attributes, he was stockily set up,not above the average in height, and in the noontide of a vigorous andhealthful manhood.
"Men," said Bishop Kennedy as he drew up before his tent, "raise me thesilken pavilion of purple and black upon yonder hill. When thou hastdone, set up the bed thou didst bring with thee, and dispose the youngknight, now asleep in the litter, within. Bid the Renegade Duke to seta close guard above his slumbers. Haste thee, go!" Then, turning to deClaverlok, "attend me within my tent, Sir Lionel," he added, "I wouldhave a moment's speech of thee."
Whereupon they dismounted, gave their horses into the charge ofwaiting e
querries and went inside.
"This fanciful plan of our dreamy friend of the flying inn," hepursued when they had seated themselves, "to keep the Earl of Warwickin the grip of Friar Diomed's decoction is both impracticable anddangerous. 'Twould be a good three days ere he could be brought to ourmain stronghold in the mountains." So saying, he took from his walletthe phial that Tyrrell had entrusted to his keeping and emptied itssparkling contents upon the ground.
"I would, my lord," said de Claverlok soberly, "that I could pour aphial of it within my tent--eh! Mayhap 'twould put the blessed ants tosleep, and keep them from crawling beneath my gorget ... eh!"
Bishop Kennedy acknowledged the grizzled knight's sally with a meresuspicion of a smile.
"Lay our commands upon the Renegade Duke," he pursued, "that he shallpermit the prisoner, for as such we must for the present regard him,to rest till such time as he may naturally awaken from his stupor. Idesire, de Claverlok, that thou shalt say but little to the duke ofthe haps of this night. By all means, keep from his knowledge theidentity of the young earl. My reasons for this are most urgent, Iwould have thee to know. Meanwhile, keep a close eye to the prisonerthyself. We may deem it expedient later to give him wholly into thycharge. And now, good sir, to thy cot--and may pleasing visions awaitthee there."
When de Claverlok issued from Lord Kennedy's tent he glanced upwardtoward the knoll whereupon the folds of the purple and black pavilionwere billowing gracefully in the crisp morning air. Betaking himself upthe slope, he waited there till the unconscious Sir Richard had beencomfortably disposed beneath its silken roof, the same, by the way,which had been intended as a covering for the dead prince.
Then, when he had done with appointing and setting the guard, thegrizzled warrior made in the direction of the renegade duke's tent forthe purpose of imparting to him Lord Kennedy's instructions.