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The Boy Knight: A Tale of the Crusades

G. A. Henty



  Produced by Ted Garvin, Annika Feilbach and PG Distributed Proofreaders

  THE BOY KNIGHT.

  A TALE OF THE CRUSADES.

  BY G.A. HENTY,

  _Author of "The Young Buglers," "Through the Fray," "The Cornet ofHorse," "The Young Colonists," "In Times of Peril," etc., etc._

  CONTENTS.

  CHAPTER I.The Outlaws.

  CHAPTER II.A Rescue.

  CHAPTER III.The Capture of Wortham Hold.

  CHAPTER IV.The Crusades.

  CHAPTER V.Preparations.

  CHAPTER VI.The Lists.

  CHAPTER VII.Revenge.

  CHAPTER VIII.The Attack.

  CHAPTER IX.The Princess Berengaria.

  CHAPTER X.Pirates.

  CHAPTER XI.In the Holy Land.

  CHAPTER XII.The Accolade.

  CHAPTER XIII.In the Hands of the Saracens.

  CHAPTER XIV.An Effort for Freedom.

  CHAPTER XV.A Hermit's Tale.

  CHAPTER XVI.A Fight of Heroes.

  CHAPTER XVII.An Alpine Storm.

  CHAPTER XVIII.Sentenced to Death.

  CHAPTER XIX.Dresden.

  CHAPTER XX.Under the Greenwood.

  CHAPTER XXI.The Attempt on the Convent.

  CHAPTER XXII.A Dastardly Stratagem.

  CHAPTER XXIII.The False and Perjured Knight.

  CHAPTER XXIV.The Siege of Evesham Castle.

  CHAPTER XXV.In Search of the King.

  CHAPTER XXVI.King Richard's Return to England.

  THE BOY KNIGHT.

  CHAPTER I.

  THE OUTLAWS.

  It was a bright morning in the month of August, when a lad of somefifteen years of age, sitting on a low wall, watched party after partyof armed men riding up to the castle of the Earl of Evesham. A casualobserver glancing at his curling hair and bright open face, as also atthe fashion of his dress, would at once have assigned to him a purelySaxon origin; but a keener eye would have detected signs that Normanblood ran also in his veins, for his figure was lither and lighter, hisfeatures more straightly and shapely cut, than was common among Saxons.His dress consisted of a tight-fitting jerkin, descending nearly to hisknees. The material was a light-blue cloth, while over his shoulder hunga short cloak of a darker hue. His cap was of Saxon fashion, and he woreon one side a little plume of a heron. In a somewhat costly belt hung alight short sword, while across his knees lay a crossbow, in itselfalmost a sure sign of its bearer being of other than Saxon blood. Theboy looked anxiously as party after party rode past toward the castle.

  "I would give something," he said, "to know what wind blows these knaveshere. From every petty castle in the Earl's feu the retainers seemhurrying here. Is he bent, I wonder, on settling once and for all hisquarrels with the Baron of Wortham? or can he be intending to make aclear sweep of the woods? Ah! here comes my gossip Hubert; he may tellme the meaning of this gathering."

  Leaping to his feet, the speaker started at a brisk walk to meet ajovial-looking personage coming down from the direction of the castle.The newcomer was dressed in the attire of a falconer, and two dogsfollowed at his heels.

  "Ah, Master Cuthbert," he said, "what brings you so near to the castle?It is not often that you favor us with your presence."

  "I am happier in the woods, as you well know, and was on my way thitherbut now, when I paused at the sight of all these troopers flocking in toEvesham. What enterprise has Sir Walter on hand now, think you?"

  "The earl keeps his own counsel," said the falconer, "but methinks ashrewd guess might be made at the purport of the gathering. It was butthree days since that his foresters were beaten back by the landlessmen, whom they caught in the very act of cutting up a fat buck. As thouknowest, my lord though easy and well-disposed to all, and not fond ofharassing and driving the people as are many of his neighbors, is yet tothe full as fanatical anent his forest privileges as the worst of them.They tell me that when the news came in of the poor figure that hisforesters cut with broken bows and draggled plumes--for the varlets hadsoused them in a pond of not over savory water--he swore a great oaththat he would clear the forest of the bands. It may be, indeed, thatthis gathering is for the purpose of falling in force upon thatevil-disposed and most treacherous baron, Sir John of Wortham, who hasalready begun to harry some of the outlying lands, and has driven off, Ihear, many heads of cattle. It is a quarrel which will have to be foughtout sooner or later, and the sooner the better, say I. Although I am noman of war, and love looking after my falcons or giving food to my dogsfar more than exchanging hard blows, yet would I gladly don the buff andsteel coat to aid in leveling the keep of that robber and tyrant, SirJohn of Wortham."

  "Thanks, good Hubert," said the lad. "I must not stand gossiping here.The news you have told me, as you know, touches me closely, for I wouldnot that harm should come to the forest men."

  "Let it not out, I beseech thee, Cuthbert, that the news came from me,for temperate as Sir Walter is at most times, he would, methinks, giveme short shift did he know that the wagging of my tongue might havegiven warning through which the outlaws of the Chase should slip throughhis fingers."

  "Fear not, Hubert; I can be mum when the occasion needs. Can you tellme further, when the bands now gathering are likely to set forth?"

  "In brief breathing space," the falconer replied. "Those who firstarrived I left swilling beer, and devouring pies and other provisionscooked for them last night, and from what I hear, they will set forth assoon as the last comer has arrived. Whichever be their quarry, they willtry to fall upon it before the news of their arrival is bruited abroad."

  With a wave of his hand to the falconer the boy started. Leaving theroad, and striking across the slightly undulated country dotted here andthere by groups of trees, the lad ran at a brisk trot, without stoppingto halt or breathe, until after half an hour's run he arrived at theentrance of a building, whose aspect proclaimed it to be the abode of aSaxon franklin of some importance. It would not be called a castle, butwas rather a fortified house, with a few windows looking without, andsurrounded by a moat crossed by a drawbridge, and capable of sustaininganything short of a real attack. Erstwood had but lately passed intoNorman hands, and was indeed at present owned by a Saxon. Sir William deLance, the father of the lad who is now entering its portals, was afriend and follower of the Earl of Evesham; and soon after his lord hadmarried Gweneth, the heiress of all these fair lands--given to him bythe will of the king, to whom by the death of her father she became award--Sir William had married Editha, the daughter and heiress of thefranklin of Erstwood, a cousin and dear friend of the new Countess ofEvesham.

  In neither couple could the marriage at first have been called one ofinclination on the part of the ladies, but love came after marriage.Although the knights and barons of the Norman invasion would, no doubt,be considered rude and rough in these days of broadcloth andcivilization, yet their manners were gentle and polished by the side ofthose of the rough though kindly Saxon franklins; and although the Saxonmaids were doubtless as patriotic as their fathers and mothers, yet thefemale mind is greatly led by gentle manners and courteous address.Thus, then, when bidden or forced to give their hands to the Normanknights, they speedily accepted their lot, and for the most part grewcontented and happy enough. In their changed circumstances it waspleasanter to ride by the side of their Norman husbands, surrounded by agay cavalcade, to hawk and to hunt, than to discharge the quiet dutiesof mistress of a Saxon farmhouse. In many cases, of course, their lotwas rendered wretched by the violence and brutality of their lords; butin the majority they were well satisfied with their lot, and these mixedmarriages did more to bring the peoples together and weld them in onethan all the laws and decrees of the Norman
sovereigns.

  This had certainly been the case with Editha, whose marriage with SirWilliam had been one of the greatest happiness. She had lost him threeyears before the story begins, fighting in Normandy, in one of theinnumerable wars in which our first Norman kings were constantlyinvolved. On entering the gates of Erstwood Cuthbert had rushed hastilyto the room where his mother was sitting, with three or four of hermaidens, engaged in work.

  "I want to speak to you at once, mother," he said.

  "What is it now, my son?" said his mother, who was still young and verycomely. Waving her hand to the girls they left her.

  "Mother," he said, when they were alone, "I fear me that Sir Walter isabout to make a great raid upon the outlaws. Armed men have been comingin all the morning from the castles round, and if it be not against theBaron de Wortham that these preparations are intended, and methinks itis not, it must needs be against the landless men."

  "What would you do, Cuthbert?" his mother asked anxiously. "It will notdo for you to be found meddling in these matters. At present you standwell in the favor of the earl, who loves you for the sake of his wife,to whom you are kin, and of your father, who did him good liegeman'sservice."

  "But, mother, I have many friends in the wood. There is Cnut, theirchief, your own first cousin, and many others of our friends, all goodmen and true, though forced by the cruel Norman laws to refuge in thewoods."

  "What would you do?" again his mother asked.

  "I would take Ronald my pony and ride to warn them of the danger thatthreatens."

  "You had best go on foot, my son. Doubtless men have been set to seethat none from the Saxon homesteads carry the warning to the woods. Thedistance is not beyond your reach, for you have often wandered there,and on foot you can evade the eye of the watchers; but one thing, myson, you must promise, and that is, that in no case, should the earl andhis bands meet with the outlaws, will you take part in any fray orstruggle."

  "That will I willingly, mother," he said. "I have no cause for offenseagainst the castle or the forest, and my blood and my kin are with both.I would fain save shedding of blood in a quarrel like this. I hope thatthe time may come when Saxon and Norman may fight side by side, and Imay be there to see."

  A few minutes later, having changed his blue doublet for one of moresober and less noticeable color, Cuthbert started for the great forest,which then stretched to within a mile of Erstwood. In those days a largepart of the country was covered with forest, and the policy of theNormans in preserving these woods for the chase tended to prevent theincrease of cultivation.

  The farms and cultivated lands were all held by Saxons, who althoughnominally handed over to the nobles to whom William and his successorshad given the fiefs, saw but little of their Norman masters. Thesestood, indeed, much in the position in which landlords stand to theirtenants, payment being made, for the most part, in produce. At the edgeof the wood the trees grew comparatively far apart, but as Cuthbertproceeded further into its recesses, the trees in the virgin foreststood thick and close together. Here and there open glades ran acrosseach other, and in these his sharp eye, accustomed to the forest, couldoften see the stags starting away at the sound of his footsteps.

  It was a full hour's journey before Cuthbert reached the point for whichhe was bound. Here, in an open space, probably cleared by a storm agesbefore, and overshadowed by giant trees, was a group of men of all agesand appearances. Some were occupied in stripping the skin off a buckwhich hung from the bough of one of the trees. Others were roastingportions of the carcass of another deer. A few sat apart, some talking,others busy in making arrows, while a few lay asleep on the greensward.As Cuthbert entered the clearing several of the party rose to theirfeet.

  "Ah, Cuthbert," shouted a man of almost gigantic stature, who appearedto be one of the leaders of the party, "what brings you here, lad, soearly? You are not wont to visit us till even, when you can lay yourcrossbow at a stag by moonlight."

  "No, no, Cousin Cnut," Cuthbert said, "thou canst not say that I haveever broken the forest laws, though I have looked on often and often,while you have done so."

  "The abettor is as bad as the thief," laughed Cnut, "and if theforesters caught us in the act, I wot they would make but littledifference whether it was the shaft of my longbow or the quarrel fromthy crossbow which brought down the quarry. But again, lad, why comestthou here? for I see by the sweat on your face and by the heaving ofyour sides that you have run fast and far."

  "I have, Cnut; I have not once stopped for breathing since I leftErstwood. I have come to warn you of danger. The earl is preparing for araid."

  Cnut laughed somewhat disdainfully.

  "He has raided here before, and I trow has carried off no game. Thelandless men of the forest can hold their own against a handful ofNorman knights and retainers in their own home."

  "Ay," said Cuthbert, "but this will be no common raid. This morningbands from all the holds within miles round are riding in, and at leastfive hundred men-at-arms are likely to do chase to-day."

  "Is it so?" said Cnut, while exclamations of surprise, but not ofapprehension, broke from those standing round. "If that be so, lad, youhave done us good service indeed. With fair warning we can slip throughthe fingers of ten times five hundred men, but if they came upon usunawares, and hemmed us in, it would fare but badly with us, though weshould, I doubt not, give a good account of them before theirbattle-axes and maces ended the strife. Have you any idea by which roadthey will enter the forest, or what are their intentions?"

  "I know not," Cuthbert said; "all that I gathered was that the earlintended to sweep the forest, and to put an end to the breaches of thelaws, not to say of the rough treatment that his foresters have met withat your hands. You had best, methinks, be off before Sir Walter and hisheavily-armed men are here. The forest, large as it is, will scarce holdyou both, and methinks you had best shift your quarters to LangholmChase until the storm has passed."

  "To Langholm be it, then," said Cnut, "though I love not the place. SirJohn of Wortham is a worse neighbor by far than the earl. Against thelatter we bear no malice, he is a good knight and a fair lord; and couldhe free himself of the Norman notions that the birds of the air, and thebeasts of the field, and the fishes of the water, all belong to Normans,and that we Saxons have no share in them, I should have no quarrel withhim. He grinds not his neighbors, he is content with a fair tithe of theproduce, and as between man and man is a fair judge without favor. Thebaron is a fiend incarnate; did he not fear that he would lose by sodoing, he would gladly cut the throats, or burn, or drown, or hang everySaxon within twenty miles of his hold. He is a disgrace to his order,and some day, when our band gathers a little stronger, we will burn hisnest about his ears."

  "It will be a hard nut to crack," Cuthbert said, laughing. "With sucharms as you have in the forest the enterprise would be something akin toscaling the skies."

  "Ladders and axes will go far, lad, and the Norman men-at-arms havelearned to dread our shafts. But enough of the baron; if we must be hisneighbors for a time, so be it."

  "You have heard, my mates," he said, turning to his comrades gatheredaround him, "what Cuthbert tells us. Are you of my opinion, that it isbetter to move away till the storm is past than to fight against heavyodds, without much chance of either booty or victory?"

  A general chorus proclaimed that the outlaws approved of the proposalfor a move to Langholm Chase. The preparations were simple. Bows weretaken down from the boughs on which they were hanging, quivers slungacross the backs, short cloaks thrown over the shoulders. The deer washurriedly dismembered, and the joints fastened to a pole slung on theshoulders of two of the men. The drinking-cups, some of which were ofsilver, looking strangely out of place among the rough horn implementsand platters, were bundled together, carried a short distance anddropped among some thick bushes for safety; and then the band startedfor Wortham.

  With a cordial farewell and many thanks to Cuthbert, who declined theirinvitations to accompany them, the retreat
to Langholm commenced.

  Cuthbert, not knowing in which direction the bands were likely toapproach, remained for awhile motionless, intently listening.

  In a quarter of an hour he heard the distant note of a bugle.

  It was answered in three different directions, and Cuthbert, who knewevery path and glade of the forest, was able pretty accurately tosurmise those by which the various bands were commencing to enter thewood.

  Knowing that they were still a long way off, he advanced as rapidly ashe could in the direction in which they were coming. When by the soundof distant voices and the breaking of branches he knew that one, atleast, of the parties was near at hand, he rapidly climbed a thick treeand ensconced himself in the branches, and there watched, secure andhidden from the sharpest eye, the passage of a body of men-at-arms fullya hundred strong, led by Sir Walter himself, accompanied by some halfdozen of his knights.

  When they had passed Cuthbert again slipped down the tree and made atall speed for home. He reached it, so far as he knew, without havingbeen observed by a single passer-by.

  After a brief talk with his mother he started for the castle, as hisappearance there would divert any suspicion that might arise; and itwould also appear natural that seeing the movements of so large a bodyof men, he should go up to gossip with his acquaintances there.

  When distant a mile from Evesham he came upon a small party.

  On a white palfrey rode Margaret, the little daughter of the earl. Shewas accompanied by her nurse and two retainers on foot.

  Cuthbert--who was a great favorite with the earl's daughter, for whom hefrequently brought pets, such as nests of young owlets, falcons, andother creatures--was about to join the party when from a clump of treesnear burst a body of ten mounted men.

  Without a word they rode straight at the astonished group. The retainerswere cut to the ground before they had thought of drawing a sword indefense.

  The nurse was slain by a blow with a battle-ax, and Margaret, snatchedfrom her palfrey, was thrown across the saddlebow of one of the mountedmen, who then with his comrades dashed off at full speed.