Then my father found voice. 'Twas a low, weak tone-one scarce to be heard indeed:

"This is a judgment on me for my hardness. Cedric was right indeed. I see it clearly now that 'tis our own old Marvin whose rights were trampled on by those who called him churl and varlet. And what a battle the lad did make! And how he fell-like a prince of the blood beset by ruffians! Oh! Did he live to speak any words of farewell-to leave any message with Marvin or any other?"

"I know not, my lord," replied the old serving man, "when I left Morton Hall this morning, 'twas said that he still breathed, but that he could scarcely last the day."

My father started up and gave a furious pull to the bell cord. The clangor thus provoked sent the chief of our serving men hurrying in.

"Tell the grooms to saddle Caesar," shouted Lord Mountjoy, "and call Broderick and say that he and six armed and mounted men are to attend me. I ride at once to Morton."

"And I also," I cried, "Galvin, tell the grooms to make ready the black mare that I rode yesterday."

"And my horse also," shrilled my mother, the instant I was done. "I, too, will ride to Morton."

'Twas fifteen leagues to Morton Hall; and much of the road was rough and wild, with many a stony hill to climb and many a stream to ford. The half of the journey we made by the light of the great round harvest moon that sent its silvered rays near level through the forest. Hard we rode, indeed, and with little mercy on our mounts; and 'twas scarce four hours after we left Mountjoy when, piloted by the old Morton serving man, we dismounted before the door of Gilbert's cottage.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _HARD WE RODE, INDEED, AND WITH LITTLE MERCY ON OUR MOUNTS_]

Praise be to the saints! We were not too late, for Cedric lay within, still breathing, though with closed eyes and with face of deathly paleness. Old Marvin lay on another couch hard by; and a leech and a nursing woman from Morton Hall were with them.

Marvin greeted us gladly, and seemed not surprised at our coming. His voice roused Cedric; and he looked upon us with knowing eyes and weakly uttered words of welcome. Lord Mountjoy knelt on the ground at his side, and clasped his hand.

"Cedric," he whispered, painfully, "canst thou forgive me my words of harshness and my driving thee forth from thy home?"

Then a smile of great content o'erspread my comrade's face; his eyes grew brighter, and a faintly ruddy color came to his cheeks.

"Lord Mountjoy," he said, and his voice was far stronger than before, "I freely forgive you for any trifling slights you have offered. I pray you, make not too much of them."

"Thou wert right, after all," went on Lord Mountjoy, "in holding to the rights thy fathers had of old. I should well have known thou wert too staunch ever to be a breeder of trouble in the house of thy friends. Now would I give the half of my lands to have thee back, well and sound, at Mountjoy Hall."

Then Cedric smiled again, now broadly as of old.

"No such price as that shall you pay, my lord, for somewhat which shall be granted without price whatsoever. I have two deep wounds, forsooth, but little thought of dying. The good leech here knows not of the strength that a plain-living forester can muster when his friends come all these leagues to bid him be of good cheer. I will ride again beneath the Mountjoy banner, my lord, and that before the spring."

At that all three of us that had before knelt dry-eyed before his couch, began weeping copiously for very joy, and Old Marvin, from his bed offered up a prayer of thanksgiving. The leech now came forward, and closely noting the change in Cedric's face, added his a.s.surance to the stricken youth's own testimony. Two hours later we came softly from the cottage where both our faithful men lay soundly sleeping. Into the forest the leech followed us to say that now the worst was past, and that he doubted not their full recovery.

CHAPTER X-THE Pa.s.s OF THE EAGLES

On a breezy autumn morning, while we made practice of arms in the courtyard, a herald from De Lacey, the Lord High Constable, rode over Mountjoy drawbridge. He had an urgent message for my father, and the like for Sir Geoffrey, the young Lord of Carleton, Sir James Dunwoodie of Grimsby and all the other loyal knights and barons of our neighborhood. The Welsh had broken over the border once more; and under Rhys, their barbarous chief who styled himself King of Wales, were burning and ravaging through the Western Marches. Many miles of fair and fruitful land they had overrun; and now they lay before Wallingham, threatening that goodly fortress and all of those who had taken refuge within it with fire and sword.

The army of the Welsh was five thousand strong. They had driven the garrison of Wallingham within walls at once; and had they been as skilled in the use of mangonels and other enginery of siege as they were with the swords and javelins of their ancient custom, they would ere this have breached or scaled the walls and given the place over to ma.s.sacre and the torch. But stout Sir Philip De Courcey still stood at bay; and now De Lacey was arming for his relief. The Constable had but five hundred hors.e.m.e.n; and of these seven score mail-clad knights, for the young king, Richard the Lion Hearted, so lately crowned, was gathering for the Crusade a vast array of the chivalry of England; and this left our Western Marches but lightly defended. So the Lord Constable was sending messengers far and wide, calling to his standard the knights and barons of the Western counties with all the mounted men that at a day's notice they could muster.

De Lacey had many times before met and scattered the bands of Welsh marauders. Now he meant to deliver such a blow as should break their power forever. He had sworn to drive them not only from the plain of Wallingham, but across the Marches and into their mountain fastnesses and to harry and slay them till not a score of the robbers remained under the skull-bone banner of their chief. To this end, he would accept no foot-soldiers, even as archers. His whole force must be mounted in order that the Welsh, on their tough little mountain horses might not escape as they had done after many another b.l.o.o.d.y raid.

On the following day there gathered under the Constable's banner at Hereford such an array of chivalry as I had ne'er before seen. Four hundred mail-clad knights were there, and near a thousand men-at-arms in good steel caps and braced and quilted leathern jackets and bearing the stout shields and heavy broadswords of their trade. Then there were twelve hundred and more of archers, mostly armed with cross-bows, but some with long-bows and cloth-yard shafts, some having quilted caps and jackets, but more being lightly clad in the foresters' Lincoln green or peasants' hodden gray. All, as by the Constable's command, were mounted in some sort, though truly some of the sorry old nags and hairy-legged plow-horses that they bestrode might have much to do to overtake one of the wiry and long-shanked Welsh who fled on foot, to say naught of their ponies that could run all day without tiring on their moorland tracks and winding mountain ways.

Geoffrey, the young Lord of Carleton, with two hundred men, was at the meeting place when we arrived. Soon after came Dunwoodie of Grimsby, Lord Pelham, Lionel of Montmorency and the men of Mannerley, Whitbury and Gresham. By the Commander's order, each man had in his pouch store of bread and dried meat for three days' campaigning. Beyond that time, we must find our eating where we could. 'Twas mid-afternoon ere our force was a.s.sembled; but we took the road straightway, and by nightfall were encamped at Hardiston, half way to Wallingham.

For Geoffrey of Carleton, for myself, the Heir of Mountjoy, and my squire and comrade, Cedric of Pelham Wood, this was the first sight and sound of war on such a scale; and we were fairly lifted up by the thought of what the morrow would bring. Cedric and I had each nineteen years at Candlemas, and Sir Geoffrey but six months less. Many b.l.o.o.d.y frays had we seen in the petty warfare of our countryside with robber baron and with banded forest outlaws; and each of us already knew the pang of hostile steel. Cedric, indeed, was but lately recovered from the wounds he had a year before at Morton where he had been accounted as one dead. But the tramp of an army of mounted men and the sweet music of their clinking armor and weapons we heard for the first time that day.

We rode near the middle of the line; and, glancing forward and back at the gallant train, that seemed a whole crusade on the narrow roads, could scarce believe that there existed anywhere an enemy that could stand before its charge. Our mail-clad knights alone, riding under the lead of the stern old Constable, seemed invincible. The Welsh, we knew, fought without defensive armor, save their bull's hide shields; and almost I pitied them for their nakedness when I thought of the terrible Norman spears and swords in the hands of men long trained in their skillful use and hardened by years of warfare. It seemed scarce fair indeed that knights and gentlemen should fight at such advantage. The arrows and javelins and e'en the sword strokes of their enemies would touch them not, while their own well-aimed blows would cleave through flimsy defenses and scatter wounds and death. Thus mused I in my youthful ignorance; but ere two days had pa.s.sed I was both sadder and wiser. Never again will I pa.s.s such hasty judgment on the power of an enemy I have not surely tried.

Though both Sir Geoffrey and I were as yet knights by courtesy only, not having won our spurs, we were armed and equipped for the expedition like the older knights about us. Cedric also, though a yeoman born, wore a coat of woven mail, and had a good broadsword at his side. But slung upon his back the while was his steel cross-bow-his first and favorite weapon and the one with which he had such wondrous skill. He could strike a running hare more surely than I could one that sat stock still beneath a bush; and he had managed to impart to a dozen and more of the Mountjoy archers some measure of his craft, so that 'twas acknowledged we had the best cross-bow men in the countryside.

Geoffrey of Carleton had gained much in the two years just past in breadth of shoulder and length of arm; and could now dispute with me on almost even terms with the foils or the wooden targes and broadswords of our martial play. I had already the height and reach of my father who had a name for bone and brawn and feats of knightly strength; and Cedric, though a handsbreadth shorter, had the shoulders and thighs of a smith. He could hang by one arm from a bough, and draw himself up to the chin; and I have seen him crumple a gold coin in his hand by way of making good his word when he had declared it over thin and light.

Though Cedric was born and had lived till his sixteenth year in the woodland cottage of his father, the forester of Pelham, his speech was not as that of the churls around us; and at Castle Mountjoy he had learned the ways of gentleness as readily as one of n.o.blest blood. My lady mother was never aweary of lessoning such a pupil in the manners of a knight and gentleman; and now had reason to look with pride on her work. Withal Cedric ne'er forgot the cla.s.s from which he sprung nor carried himself as a lord over them when given authority.

We made but a short night of it at Hardiston. By three o' the clock we were in saddle again, and p.r.i.c.king forward toward the plain of Wallingham. By sun-up we were within three leagues of the castle, and the Constable had sent forward light-armed scouts to bring us word of the siege. Then spake my father, with the freedom of an old comrade of the Constable's and veteran of many a hard campaign:

"Methinks, my lord, that Rhys and his Welsh rabble will ne'er await our coming on Wallingham Plain where they must needs fight with the castle in their rear and the danger of a sortie of the garrison. Beshrew me if they do not fly again across the Marches when they hear of our coming in force, and await another time to strike at undefended lands."

"By'r Lady! Mountjoy," returned the Constable, "I believe thou'rt right, and Rhys will never risk his thieving crew on a good wide field where sword and lance decide the day. But what would'st thou suggest? Can we do aught but ride for Wallingham as hard as may be?"

"Aye, my lord. There is a fork o' the road a bowshot hence where one track leads to Wallingham and the other to Egbert's Ford o'er a wide stream a league from the castle. 'Tis on the road to the Marches; and if we ride and hold it, we may there intercept the Welsh and cut them off from their retreat. If they leave not Wallingham, we can ride from thence and take them at vantage."

"Well said, Mountjoy, i' faith!" cried De Lacey, "prithee, Sir Richard of Mountjoy, ride forward and give the word to the vanguard to take the right turning. We'll come between the rogues and their retreat, and fight, mayhap, with the river at our backs. There'll be full many of them, I trust, that will never ride again for robbery and burning."

Mine errand with the vanguard was quickly done. Less than an hour thereafter we rode out of the forest in sight of Egbert's Ford. Then were Lord Mountjoy's words full justified for we saw before us, and but half a mile away, the whole army of the Welsh in full retreat on the road toward the Marches and the tangle of mountains and valleys beyond.

Fortune smiled on our banners that morning; for indeed, had we foreknown our enemies' movements and timed our coming to the minute, it could not have better fallen out. As we emerged from the greenwood, half of the Welsh army had already crossed the stream; the water at the ford was filled with mounted men and bullock carts, laden with spoil and making their difficult way through the swift-flowing current; and the remainder of their forces still stood on the hither side, awaiting their turn for the crossing.

It needed not the eye of a great captain to discern our vantage in such a posture. As our knights and men-at-arms came forth on the field they set up a shout of joy full like that of unleashed hounds that see the boar started from his covert. Almost without a word from their chiefs, and without a moment's loss, they formed in line of battle. Then came the Constable's ringing word: "Forward for Saint George!" and the line rolled forward down the hill with a rush and roar like that of the great downfall of rock and earth and full-grown trees that I had once seen in the Western mountains.

My father and I rode at the head of the Mountjoy knights and men-at-arms, and not far from the Constable. Sir Geoffrey full gallantly captained the chivalry of Carleton and Teramore, and Lionel of Montmorency rode just beyond him, leading a hundred lances. Lord Mountjoy had named Cedric to lead the Mountjoy archers, five score strong; and I could see o'er my shoulder that they were the first of the bowmen to form their line and follow in the wake of the men-at-arms.

Thus the army of the Constable poured down upon the luckless Welshmen in two thunderous, onrushing waves.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _THE WATER AT THE FORD WAS FILLED WITH MOUNTED MEN AND BULLOCK CARTS, LADEN WITH SPOIL AND MAKING THEIR DIFFICULT WAY THROUGH THE SWIFT-FLOWING CURRENT_]

They made shift to meet our attack as best they might, facing us with stubborn courage indeed, but with little skill of the military art, and with a battle front that seemed more like a moiling and howling mob of rioters than an army under its lawful captains. If any noise e'er heard could have effected it, we might have been checked indeed, for, as we galloped down upon them, they set up a chorus of shrieks and yells that seemed like to split one's ears. Swords and maces seemed their princ.i.p.al weapons, with here and there a lance or a battle-ax, and mingled helter-skelter with their heavier arms, the bows and shafts of their archers. Their bows had not the length nor the power of those of our English foresters; and the cloud of arrows they sent toward our mail-clad line had no more effect than as if a flock of sparrows had sought to check and thwart us.

Into that howling mob we rushed with leveled lances. Our horses were stayed by the very ma.s.s of the bodies of our enemies; and in a moment we were a.s.sailed, as it seemed, from all sides, by the survivors, some of them dreadfully wounded, but wielding swords and battle-clubs and javelins with a demon-like fury.

Their skill with these weapons was not to be despised; and, if they had no coats of mail to shield them, neither were their movements impeded by weight of armor. Hundreds of our men-at-arms and scores of knights fell in that struggle on the river brink. Victory was no such easy goal as I had thought.

Meanwhile the half of the Welsh army which was on the other side of the river, commanded by Rhys himself, essayed to re-cross and come to the aid of their comrades. They might well have succeeded, and mayhap found some means of outflanking us, had it not been for the watchfulness of Cedric of Mountjoy. He and our whole array of archers had been close behind us, striving to do their share by way of shooting between our bodies at the ma.s.s of Welshmen. But soon the tangle was such that their bolts seemed as like to slay friend as foe, and they had gradually desisted. Then Cedric caught sight of the Welsh entering the water on the farther side, and drawing the Mountjoy archers to the left of the main battle, began sending a stream of quarrels in their direction. The Lord Constable, having just then a moment's respite, saw what was toward, and sent word to the other leaders of our bowmen to follow the tactics of the Mountjoy men. In a moment the air above the stream was filled with a cloud of bolts and shafts, and the waters became clogged with dead and dying men and horses. Such a rain of death and wounds was not to be endured by unprotected men. Soon the Welsh warriors were turning their horses' heads again toward the bank; and those that regained it, with their fellows who had not yet reentered the ford, fell back to a safer distance.

Now the battle on the river bank went swiftly to its close. The struggling and yelling Welsh grew ever fewer, and our knights gained room for yet more deadly work with sword and lance. Soon the half of the Welsh forces that had occupied the hither bank had been destroyed or scattered, and our army was crossing the river in pursuit of Rhys and his remaining warriors who were riding for life toward the mountains in the West.

True to his sworn purpose, the Constable lost not a moment in the chase.

The Welsh horses were fresher than ours that had already traveled far that day, and they were more lightly burdened, else we might have ridden them down and finished the work so well begun at Egbert's Ford. As it was, our enemies, by abandoning their spoils and lashing their ponies forward without mercy, managed to keep well beyond bowshot for the half a dozen leagues that lay between the Ford and the entrance of a narrow valley that led up into the mountains where they had so often before found safe retreat. Into this defile we rode at three o' the clock, cutting down or making prisoners of a dozen stragglers whose horses had failed them at the beginning of the upward road.

Without pause we spurred on up the stony pathway for a mile and more; then found the valley narrowing to a pa.s.s between high walls of rock.

Through this the army of the Welsh had gone, leaving a guard of a hundred or more to stay our progress.

Our leader well knew the tactics fit for such a juncture. He halted his main force, and sent forward the archers,-the long-bow men under Simon of Montmorency, and those with cross-bows under Cedric of Mountjoy. Soon the defenders of the pa.s.s were whelmed with a cloud of arrows and quarrels. They sheltered themselves as best they might 'mongst rocks and trees; but the arrows came like rain, searching every cranny of the pa.s.s. In scarce half an hour the last of the Welsh rear-guard was slain or had fled, and the way was open before us.

The Constable left two hundred men-at-arms and archers, under an old and trusted knight, to guard the pa.s.s behind us; and we rode forward into the wide valley. The day was now far spent, and the sun had pa.s.sed from sight behind the mountains that rose ever higher toward the West. The scattered oaks and firs and the great rocks that strewed the valley on either hand might well have sheltered an ambush; and we rode forward more slowly, with lines of skirmishers well to the fore and to the right and left.