Long Will Part 39

When Stephen had brought Calote safe out of Kent to the door of the cot on Cornhill, they kissed the one the other and went their ways.

"Another year, and I 'll be mine own man, lord of mine own manor, which the Earl of March shall render to me; then we 'll be wed," quoth Stephen.

"And the villeins shall be freed?" said Calote.

"Yea, of surety shall they," he answered. "Meanwhile, 't were wise I dwell at Westminster. I 'm the one only man is King's friend and poor man's friend, true alike to one and t' other. Richard hath need of such an one."

"Alack! tell me of the King," cried Calote. "Doth he forget?"

"He 's young," Stephen made answer, unwilling; "he 's nor boy nor man.

He doth not forget, but he doth not any more believe, neither. He will have it as how 't was child's prattle yonder in Malvern Chase. An they 'd give him work to do, he 'd grow to be a king; but the Council and the great lords is afeared to let slip the reins. One day he 'll claim his own, and G.o.d grant 't will not then be too late."

"Child's prattle!" sighed Calote. "Harrow!"

"Nay, be comforted!" pleaded Stephen. "This past month that I am come back to court, he is uncertain. He plieth me with when and how. But Robert de Vere is ever hanging on his neck; 't is not thrice in a week I may come at him. Though he may not rule in verite, he maketh bold pretense; is naught but feasting and jollite from morn till night; largess and bounty, and wanton dispending of the gold wherefore the people is taxed. He hath in mind to bid thee and thy father to court one day, to sing to him and run a tilt of song with Master Chaucer."

After this Stephen betook him to Westminster, and November was past and gone, and the blessed Nativite and mummers of Twelfth Night were past; and all this great while Calote was in and out of London, bearing the message and binding the Brotherhood. Wat Tyler bode with her whithersoever she went, in Ess.e.x and Norfolk and Suffolk, and southward into Kent, and back again to London. She would not go alone with Jack Straw, wherefore he was very wroth. And what though Calote kept tryst once, twice, thrice, with the peddler, she did not tell him as how she was afeared of Jack Straw; for that she knew Jack Straw had it in his heart to slay the peddler, if so he might take him unaware.

So all that winter the people was making them ready. There were certain aldermen of London also that were of the Great Society. At their houses were met together the leaders, to discover how best London should be taken; and they said it must be when such an one was Alderman of Bridge, for by the Bridge was the surest way to come into the city for to take it.

Now it was marvel that the lords paid no heed, for, albeit these things were done privily, they might not be altogether hid. No man rode the highway half a mile but he happed upon strange adventure, as of a preacher preaching; or of villeins gathered together in a company, clasping hands and swearing strange oaths; or of a bailiff gagged and helpless, his wallet empty. Moreover, it was rumoured at court as how the peasants would rise. But this was not to be believed.

If the n.o.bles thought on it, 't was to jest. What though dark looks followed after them when they rode abroad,--was not the peasant ever a sulky churl? What though there was a whispering in tavern and town,--the villein had grumbled these thirty years and more. As they that have eyes and see not, were the lords, and having ears yet they did not hear.

Meanwhile, the tax was a-gathering. But whether 't was true, what the people said, that a-many had died since the last census,--or whether the census was ill-taken, or whether the blame was to the tax-gatherer;--and the people declared this also, that he stole from the King's coffers to fill his own pouch;--whether for one cause or other, 't is certain the money came not in, and there was fret and stir in the King's Council. And about this time, which was the month of March, Will Langland and his daughter Calote had word that they should go to the palace at Westminster to stand before the King.

In the great chamber where the King would come to hear his minstrels, there were two gentlemen, and at the threshold of the door two squatting pages that played at hazard with dice. These, when they saw that Calote and her father were common folk, did them no courtesy, but they stared idly on Calote, and thrust forth a toe to trip the page that showed the way; which, when he had avoided, he said to Long Will:--

"Ye are betimes. The King is shut in the Council Chamber, and the Queen-Mother is gone with her ladies to hear Vespers in the Chapel. 'T is in this place ye shall attend."

So he left them, and as he went out at the door he kicked the dice to right and left across the room; then took to his heels hastily.

One of the gentlemen stood within the splay of a window looking forth; and if he were a merchant or a scholar 't were no easy matter to tell.

He wore a long gown of fine cloth, furred, and a collar of gold about his throat, and a long gold chain, and his hair laid very soft and curling on his shoulders; he had a countenance sober and comely; his eye was not dull, nor mirthful neither. He looked aside indifferent at Long Will and the maid, and again out of window. Presently he took from his girdle a parchment and began to con it. Then Calote turned her to the other gentleman and met his eyes fixed upon her, and immediately he gave her a look that glanced forth friendly-wise, merry and shy, as 't were a finger that beckoned. Anon he had bent his head and was scribbling very fast in a tablet against his knee. This gentleman was not so tall as that other; neither was he slender and slim, but wide in his waist, full-girded. His short gown was gray, and the penner stuck awry upon his breast, black were his hosen, and his shoes gray, but scarlet on their edges. His forked beard was already grizzled, howbeit he was not an old man;--not so old as Will Langland, haply, nor so care worn; but beneath the cap that he wore in the fas.h.i.+on of Italy with the tail of it wound about his neck, the hair above his ears was likewise grizzled.

Long Will had drawn a stool within a niche and was set down to his copying; and Calote stood near him for a little, but the pictured tale on the tapestries drew her away that she must needs leave her place to see, and she walked down the room and up again, marvelling. And when she was come nigh to where the little round gray man sat a-scribbling; nevertheless he was not so busy but he was 'ware of her and looked up sidewise with a smile. Then, on a sudden, he had taken the long rope of her hair, and he shook it gently and laughed.

"Her yellow hair was braided in a tresse, Behind her back, a yarde long I guesse,"

quoth he; and anon, "Saint Mary,--'t is a good line! I 'll write it down." Whereupon he did, and Calote ran back to her father, rosy-flushed, yet nowise frighted--for this was a friendly wight.

"Who 's yon, father?" she asked. "The gray one; hath so merry and all-seeing eyen?"

Long Will looked up, a-gathering slow his wits:

"Yon 's Master Chaucer," he said at last.

"Mary Mother!" gasped the maid: and the gray one, looking up across, caught her with mouth and eyes wide, whereat he threw back his head and, though he made no sound, she knew he laughed.

Now came in Master Walworth, Mayor of London, and Nicholas Brembre, sometime Mayor,--merchants these and very loyal true to King Richard.

Sir John Holland came in also, and the Earl of Kent, half-brothers to the King, and of other gentlemen nigh a score, dressed very gay in silk and broidery. They loitered up and down by twos and threes, giving good day and tossing jests as light as tennis b.a.l.l.s. There was not one but flung a word of welcome right joyously to Master Chaucer where he sat withdrawn. 'T would seem he was friend to all. Calote, behind her father's stool, a-peering over his bent head, marvelled to see all sneers and gleams of malice, all sullen pride, evanished from every face that looked Dan Chaucer's way. As one will smooth his wrinkled heart and countenance if a child draw near, so smoothed these courtiers their visage, inward and outward, to an honest smile, to greet this modest, merry little man in gray.

"He 's a very wizard," whispered Calote.

"Who?" said Long Will, and following her gaze, "Ah, he!"--

"Thou dost love him, father?"

"Dost not thou?"

"Yea," she faltered; "but wherefore?"

"'T is G.o.d's gift," he sighed. "This is to be a poet."

"But thou art a poet, father," she whispered.

"And men do not love me."

"They do,--ah,--all poor folk!"

He turned his head to look in her eyes: "What matter?" he said gently.

"I 'd liefer be Will Langland. He--yonder--'s missed somewhat."

But now there was a rustle without the door and a parting to right and left adown the hall. An usher cried: "The Queen!" And Joanna the Fair and her ladies came in with flutter of veils and flirting of skirts.

And lo! one of the ladies was G.o.diyeva from the lonely manor-house in Yorks.h.i.+re.

Then there began a buzzing of tongues and bowing of knights and squires. The sober gentleman in the furred gown ceased to con his parchment and went and kissed the Queen's hand; so likewise did Dan Chaucer, but thereafter withdrew again to his quiet corner.

"The King not come?" said his mother.

"He 's in Council, madame," made answer Sir John Holland; "there hath been discovered a flaw in the poll-tax, and they seek a remedy."

She shrugged her shoulders, and looked about her on the company. Said she: "Is 't a jongleuse,--yonder,--beside the tall clerk?" For, by this, Will Langland was on his feet, as were all they in the Queen's presence.

"Madame!" cried G.o.diyeva, "'t is a glee-maid dwelt with us in Yorks.h.i.+re last year at Ascension-tide; told us a tale of Piers Ploughman, and how the peasant should make laws in England."

"Pah!--I am sick of these peasant tales!" said the Queen. "Gentlewomen may not ride abroad, but they must set a flappet on their ears to smother the foul songs and catchwords of villeins. England pampereth her common folk to her cost. In Gascony, when the Black Prince was alive, 't was not thus we ruled. Saint Denys! 't is said these churls do beat and maul the King's officers that come to do the King's business and gather his moneys."

"Wilt thou that I put forth the wench, madame?" questioned Sir John.

His brother of Kent laughed and clapped him on the back.

"Nay, pray you pardon, madame," said a chamberlain; "the damsel, and the clerk her father, is sent for of the King. 'T is whispered the tall fellow will tilt with Dan Chaucer."

The Queen and all her ladies laughed, and Calote, marking their eyes cast scornful upon her, drew back to hide behind her father.

"This is Etienne Fitzwarine's doing," said the Queen. "I cannot abye him since he 's returned from pilgrimage."