The Boy Knight: A Tale of the Crusades Read online

  CHAPTER VIII.

  THE ATTACK.

  All day they rode with their faces west, and before nightfall had made ajourney of over forty miles. Then bestowing a largess upon themen-at-arms, Cuthbert dismissed them, and took up his abode at ahostelry, his guide looking to the two horses.

  Cuthbert was pleased with the appearance of the man who had been placedat his disposal. He was a young fellow of twenty-two or twenty-three,with an honest face. He was, he told Cuthbert, the son of a small farmernear Avignon; but having a fancy for trade, he had been apprenticed to amaster smith. Having served his apprenticeship, he found that he hadmistaken his vocation, and intended to return to the paternal vineyards.

  Cuthbert calculated that he would make at least four days' journey tothe south before he could meet with any dangers. Doubtless his exit fromthe convent had been discovered, and the moment the gates of the citywere opened the spy would have proceeded south to warn his comrades, andthese would doubtless have taken a road which at a distance would againtake them on to that by which Cuthbert would be now traveling. As,however, he rode fast, and made long marches each day, he hoped that hemight succeed in distancing them. Unfortunately, upon the third day hishorse cast his shoe, and no smith could be met with until the end of theday's journey. Consequently, but a short distance could be done and thisat a slow pace. Upon the fifth day after their first start they arrivedat a small town.

  The next morning Cuthbert on rising found that his guide did not presenthimself as usual. Making inquiries he found that the young man had goneout the evening before, and had not returned. Extremely uneasy at thecircumstance, Cuthbert went to the city guard, thinking that perhaps hisguide might have got drunk, and been shut up in the cells. No news,however, was to be obtained there, and after waiting some hours, feelingsure that some harm had befallen him, he gave notice to the authoritiesof his loss, and then mounting his horse, and leaving some money withthe landlord of the hostelry to give to his guide in case the lattershould return, he started at midday by the southern road.

  He felt sure now that he was overtaken, and determined to keep his eyesand faculties thoroughly on watch.

  The roads in those days were mere tracks. Here and there a littlevillage was to be met with; but the country was sparsely cultivated, andtraveling lonely work. Cuthbert rode fast, carefully avoiding allcopses and small woods through which the road ran, by making a circuitround them and coming on to it again on the other side.

  His horse was an excellent one, the gift of the earl, and he had littlefear, with his light weight, of being overtaken if he could once leavehis enemies behind him.

  At length he approached an extensive forest, which stretched for mileson either side.

  Half a mile before he reached it the track divided.

  He had for some little time eased his horse down to a walk, as he feltthat the wood would be the spot where he would in all probability beattacked, and he needed that his steed should be possessed of its utmostvigor.

  At the spot where the track branched a man in the guise of a mendicantwas sitting. He begged for alms, and Cuthbert threw him a small coin.

  A sudden thought struck him as he heard a rustling in the bushes near.

  "Which is the nearest and best road to Avignon?" he said.

  "The right-hand road is the best and shortest," the beggar said. "Theother makes a long circuit and leads through several marshes, which yourhonor will find it hard to pass."

  Cuthbert thanked him and moved forward, still at a walk, along theright-hand road.

  When he had gone about two hundred yards, and was hidden from the sightof the man he had left--the country being rough, and scattered withclumps of bushes--he halted, and, as he expected, heard the sound ofhorses' hoofs coming on at full gallop along the other road.

  "Your master must have thought me young indeed," he said, "to try andcatch me with such a transparent trick as that. I do not suppose thataccursed page has more than ten men with him, and doubtless has placedfive on each road. This fellow was placed here to see which track Iwould follow, and has now gone to give the party on the left hand thenews that I have taken this way. Had it not been for him I should havehad to run the gantlet with four or five of my enemies. As it is, thepath will doubtless be clear."

  So saying, he turned his horse, galloped back to the spot where thetracks separated, and then followed the left-hand route.

  As he had hoped, he passed through the wood without incident orinterruption, and arrived safely that night at a small town, having seenno signs of his enemies.

  The next day he started again early, and rode on until midday, when hehalted at a large village, at which was the only inn between the placefrom which he started and his destination. He declined the offer of theservant of the inn to take his horse round to the stable, telling theman to hold him outside the door and give him from a sieve a fewhandfuls of grain.

  Then he entered the inn and ate a hearty meal. As he appeared at thedoor he saw several men gathered near. With a single spring he threwhimself into the saddle, just as a rush forward was made by thosestanding round. The man next to him sprang upon him, and endeavored todrag him from the saddle. Cuthbert drew the little dagger called a_misericorde_ from his belt, and plunged it into his throat. Thenseizing the short mace which hung at the saddlebow, he hurled it withall his force full in the face of his enemy, the page of Sir Philip, whowas rushing upon him sword in hand. The heavy weapon struck him fairlybetween the eyes, and with a cry he fell back, his face completelysmashed in by the blow, the sword which he held uplifted to strikeflying far through the air.

  Cuthbert struck his spurs into his horse, and the animal dashed forwardwith a bound, Cuthbert striking with his long sword at one or two menwho made a snatch at the reins. In another minute he was cantering outof the village, convinced that he had killed the leader of his foes, andthat he was safe now to pursue the rest of his journey on to Marseilles.

  So it turned out.

  Without further incident he traveled through the south of France, andarrived at the great seaport. He speedily discovered the quarters inwhich the Earl of Evesham's contingent were encamped, and made towardthis without delay. As he entered a wild shout of joy was heard, andCnut ran forward with many gestures of delight.

  "My dear Cuthbert, my dear Cuthbert!" he exclaimed. "Can it be true thatyou have escaped? We all gave you up; and although I did my best, yethad you not survived it I should never have forgiven myself, believingthat I might have somehow done better, and have saved you from thecutthroats who attacked us."

  "Thanks, thanks, my good Cnut," Cuthbert cried. "I have been through atime of peril, no doubt; but as you see, I am hale and well--better,methinks, than you are, for you look pale and ill; and I doubt not thatthe wound which I received was a mere scratch to that which bore youdown. It sounded indeed like the blow of a smith's hammer upon ananvil."

  "Fortunately, my steel cap saved my head somewhat," Cnut said, "and thehead itself is none of the thinnest; but it tried it sorely, I confess.However, now that you are back I shall, doubt not, soon be as strong asever I was. I think that fretting for your absence has kept me back morethan the inflammation from the wound itself--but there is the earl atthe door of his tent."

  Through the foresters and retainers who had at Cnut's shout of joycrowded up, Cuthbert made his way, shaking hands right and left with themen, among whom he was greatly loved, for they regarded him as being ina great degree the cause of their having been freed from outlawry, andrestored to civil life again. The earl was really affected. As Cuthbertrode up he held out both arms, and as his page alighted he embraced himas a father.

  "My dear Cuthbert!" he exclaimed. "What anxiety have we not suffered.Had you been my own son, I could not have felt more your loss. We didnot doubt for an instant that you had fallen into the hands of some ofthe retainers of that villain count; and from all we could learn, andfrom the absence of any dead body by the side of that of Cnut, Iimagined that you must have been carried off. I
t was clear that yourchance of life, if you fell into the hands of that evil page, or hisequally vile master, was small indeed. The very day that Cnut wasbrought in I visited the French camp, and accused him of having been thecause of your disappearance and Cnut's wounds. He affected the greatestastonishment at the charge. He had not, as he said, been out of the campfor two days. My accusation was unfounded and malicious, and I shouldanswer this as well as the previous outrage, when the vow of theCrusaders to keep peace among themselves was at an end. Of course I hadno means of proving what I said, or I would have gone direct to the kingand charged him with the outrage. As it was I gained nothing by mypains. He has accompanied the French division to Genoa; but when we meetat Sicily, where the two armies are to rendezvous, I will bring thematter before the king, as the fact that his page was certainlyconcerned in it must be taken as showing that he was the instigator."

  "It would, my lord earl, be perhaps better," Cuthbert said, "if I mightventure to advise, to leave the matter alone. No doubt the count wouldsay that he had discharged his page after the tournament, and that thelatter was only carrying out his private feud with me. We should not beable to disprove the story, and should gain no satisfaction by thematter."

  The earl admitted the justice of Cuthbert's reasoning, but reserved tohimself the task of punishing the author of the outrage upon the firstfitting opportunity.

  There was a weary delay at Marseilles before the expedition set sail.This was caused by the fact of the English fleet, which had been orderedto be there upon their arrival, failing to keep the agreement.

  The words English fleet badly describe the vessels which were to carrythe English contingent to their destination. They were ships belongingto the maritime nations of Italy--the Venetians, Genoese, Pisans, etc.;for England at that time had but few of her own, and these scarcelyfitted for the stormy navigation of the Bay of Biscay.

  King Richard, impatient as ever of delay, at last lost his temper, andembarked on board a ship with a few of his chosen knights, and set sailby himself for Sicily, the point at which the two armies of theexpedition were to reunite. A few days after his departure thelong-looked-for fleet arrived, and a portion of the English hostembarked at once, and set sail for Sicily, where they were to belanded, and the ships were to return to fetch the remaining contingent.

  A sea voyage of this kind in those days was a serious matter. Longvoyages were rare, and troops were carried very much upon the principleof herrings; that is, were packed as close as they could be, without anyreference to their comfort. As the voyages seldom lasted more thantwenty-four hours, this did not much matter, but during long voyages thediscomforts, or as may be said sufferings, of the troops wereconsiderable. So tightly packed were the galleys in which the Englishset sail from Marseilles that there was no walking about. Every manslept where he sat, and considered himself lucky indeed if he couldobtain room sufficient to stretch himself at full length. Most sleptsitting against bulwarks or other supports. In the cabins, where theknights, their pages and squires were placed, the crowding was of courseless excessive, but even here the amount of space, which a subalterntraveling to India for the first time nowadays would grumble at, wasconsidered amply sufficient for half a dozen knights of distinction. Itwas a week after sailing, when Cnut touched Cuthbert's arm as he came ondeck one morning, and said:

  "Look, look, Cuthbert! that mountain standing up in the water has caughtfire on the top. Did you ever see such a thing?"

  The soldiers crowded to the side of the vessel in intense astonishmentand no little awe. From the top of a lofty and rugged hill, risingalmost straight from the sea, flames were roaring up, smoke hung overthe island, and stones were thrown into the air and rattled down theside of the hill, or fell into the sea with a splash.

  "That is a fearsome sight," Cnut said, crossing himself.

  "It looks as if it was the mouth of purgatory," exclaimed another,standing by.

  Cuthbert himself was amazed, for the instruction he had received fromFather Francis was of too slight a nature to include the story ofvolcanoes. A priest, however, who accompanied the ship in the characterof leech and confessor, explained the nature of the phenomenon to hisastonished listeners, and told them that over on the mainland was amountain which at times vomited forth such masses of stones and ofliquid rock that it had swallowed up and covered many great cities.There was also, he told them, another mountain of the same sort, evenmore vast, on the island of Sicily itself; but that this had seldom, asfar back as man could remember, done any great harm.

  Sailing on, in another day they arrived off the coast of Sicily itself,and sailing up the straits between it and the mainland they landed atMessina. Here a considerable portion of the French army had alreadyarrived, having been brought down from Genoa.

  There was no news of the King of England; and, as often happens, thesaying "The more haste the less speed," had been verified here.

  It was some days later before King Richard arrived, having been drivenfrom his course by tempests, well-nigh cast ashore, and having besidesgone through many adventures. Three weeks later the whole of the army ofthe Crusaders were gathered around Messina, where it was intended toremain some little time before starting. It was a gay time; and thekings vied with each other in entertainments, joustings, andtournaments. The Italian knights also made a brave show, and it mighthave been thought that this huge army of men were gathered there simplyfor amusement and feasting. In the tournaments every effort was made toprevent any feeling of national rivalry, and although parties of knightsheld their own against all comers, these were most carefully selected torepresent several nationalities, and therefore victory, on whichsoeverside it fell, excited no feelings of bitterness.

  Alone, King Richard was undoubtedly the strongest cavalier of the twoarmies. Against his ponderous strength no knight could keep his seat;and this was so palpable that after many victories King Richard wasforced to retire from the lists from want of competitors, and to takehis place on the dais with the more peace-loving King of France.

  The gayety of the camp was heightened by the arrival of many nobles anddames from Italy. Here, too, came the Queen of Navarre, bringing withher the beautiful Princess Berengaria.

  "Methinks," the Earl of Evesham said to Cuthbert a fortnight after thearrival of the queen "that unless my eyes deceive me the princess islikely to be a cause of trouble."

  "In what way?" asked Cuthbert with surprise, for he had been struck withher marvelous beauty, and wondered greatly what mischief so fair a beingcould do.

  "By the way in which our good lord, the king, gazes upon her, methinksthat it were like enough that he broke off his engagement with thePrince of France for the sake of the fair eyes of this damsel."

  "That were indeed a misfortune," Cuthbert said gravely, for he saw atonce the anger which such a course would excite in the minds of theFrench king and his knights, who would naturally be indignant in theextreme at the slight put upon their princess. As day after day passedit became evident to all that the King of England was infatuated by theprincess. Again he entered the lists himself, and as some fresh Italianknights and others had arrived, he found fresh opponents, andconspicuously laid the spoils of victory at the feet of the princess,whom he selected as the Queen of Beauty.

  All sorts of rumors now became current in camp; violent quarrels betweenthe kings, and bad feelings between the French and English knights brokeout again in consequence, and this more violently than before.