The Siege of Norwich Castle Part 5

'Alas, yes!' admitted the priest.

Then the earl, bending towards him, and fixing his piercing eyes on the good-humoured and yielding eyes of Theodred, said in a low, clear voice, every syllable of every word thrilling the silent night,--

'An English king may yet fill the throne. Waltheof Siwardsson lives!'

Theodred covered his face with his hands, and staggered into his chair.

After a while he murmured, 'And doth the holy Frithic, Abbot of St.

Albans, favour this, and Thurstan, Abbot of Ely?'

'Ay; nor is Fitzosbern, Bishop of Exeter, opposed. He groans for the woes of the English people, whose ways he has always loved, and whose manners he has adopted; neither brooks he tamely this insult of William's to his nephew. When such favour me, wilt not thou?'

Theodred extended his palm without uncovering his face. 'I cannot answer thee thus at a moment's notice. The issues are too great.'

'Waltheof, Hereford, and I,' the earl continued, his face lighted with a lofty pride, and his gesture such as might have befitted the Conqueror himself, 'William absent. Who could withstand our combination?'

'I pray thee mercy! This matter needeth meditation and prayer. Leave me. Whether I help or hinder thee, be sure I will not betray thee. The Holy Virgin have both thee and me in her keeping!'

'Amen,' said the earl, and left the apartment. As he walked down the pa.s.sage, stepping softly lest he should disturb those who had slumbered while he plotted, he heard the strokes of the flagellum with which Father Theodred was lacerating his shoulders.

CHAPTER IV.

HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND.

On the morrow, a goodly company rode forth over the drawbridges of Hereford Castle, with clatter of prancing horses and barking of dogs and jingle of hawks' jesses; falconers carrying the birds, and huntsmen leading the well-trained dogs, spaniels, c.o.c.kers, and here and there a wolf or boar hound, in case larger game should be started; a party of men-at-arms to protect them from wild beasts, outlaws, and Welsh, with a few knights in harness to head them, and the ladies and gentlemen of the hunt themselves.

In the place of honour amongst these rode the Earl of East Anglia, mounted on his splendid Spanish barb Oliver, whose fine points had drawn forth praise from that lover of good horse-flesh, William the Conqueror himself, when De Guader had ridden the steed in his presence; a bright red-roan with fox-coloured mane and tail, fine of limb, but of greater strength and endurance than the heavier Norman warhorse, and full of spirit and docility.

By his side ambled Emma Fitzosbern, on a white palfrey, bearing on her wrist a n.o.ble 'ta.s.sel-gentle,' whose broad shoulders and large nares and long black spurs proclaimed him of the bluest blood of hawk aristocracy.

'Certes, he is a glorious tierce,' said Emma, looking with admiration at the hawk, 'and seemeth well re-claimed, though, knowing me not, he is by nature shy.'

'I hope well he may sustain the reputation accorded him by those from whom I had him,' said the earl, 'and prove his worth by deeds when we reach the waters. He comes straight from Denmark, and is accounted equal to any King Sweyn at present hath in his mews. He will bind a mallard with his beak, nor needeth he any lure save the voice of the falconer. None exceed the Danes for skill in training a hawk.'

The Earl of Hereford, who had been riding ahead with his countess, fell back and reined his horse beside his sister's palfrey, that he might examine and criticise this much-extolled bird. But his criticism also took the form of admiration.

'If he performs as well as he looks,' quoth he, 'I would think him cheap at a hundred marks.'

When they reached the marshy ground to north-west the castle, at which they had been aiming, the spaniels soon put up a heronshaw, and Emma, who had no mean skill at falconry, slipped off the hood from the Danish hawk, and cast him deftly from her little fist into the air at what was called the _jette serre_, that is to say, as quickly after the quarry had taken flight as possible.

The heron soared into the air on his strong wings, with his slender legs stretched straight behind him, till he was almost lost in the clouds, but the ta.s.sel-gentle pursued him swiftly, scaling the air by small circles ascending higher and higher like the steps of a spiral staircase.

Emma clapped her hands in delight.

'By the ma.s.s! a magnificent mount!' exclaimed Hereford, and his praise was echoed amongst the ladies and gentlemen round, nor did the falconers refuse their meed of honour to the foreign bird, jealous though they might be for the fame of their own particular pets, whom they had tended since they took them from the eyrie at the stage of eya.s.s-down, and lured and re-claimed with daily care and patient skill.

'The ta.s.sel-gentle hath the uppermost,' cried Emma, after a few seconds of eager watching.

'Thine eyes are as keen as the hawk's!' cried De Guader. 'At that height I could not tell one from the other.'

But Emma saw truly. In a moment more the ta.s.sel-gentle stooped upon his quarry, and the struggling birds came tumbling from the sky together, leaving a long trail of fluttering feathers to mark the course of their pa.s.sage through the air.

Hereford pressed forward to the spot at which they promised to touch earth, and was ready to despatch the heron ere he could do mischief with his long wings, measuring upwards of five feet from tip to tip. He shook the hawk's hood, and the well-trained bird flew at once upon his wrist. Bravely had he maintained his reputation by deeds.

Other hawks were then flown at various game, mallard and crane and bittern. Sometimes the quarry escaped; on one occasion a falcon failed to win the upper hand, and the heron at which she was cast transfixed her on his long beak and killed her, at which misfortune there was much ado. Others acquitted themselves well, but none rivalled the prowess of the Danish hawk, and when the gay company had turned their horses'

heads homewards, and had leisure to discuss the matter, he was acclaimed by all the hero of the day in falcon-world.

'Since thou hast a good opinion of the ta.s.sel-gentle,' said De Guader, who had reined his horse again to the side of Emma's palfrey, 'and art pleased to say that I gave no overdrawn picture of his high qualities, I pray thee, n.o.ble demoiselle, to pleasure me by taking him for thine own from this day forward; for, in sooth, I obtained him from Denmark for no other purpose, having heard of the death of thy favourite falcon. See, he takes to thee by instinct, and sits thy slender wrist as if he knew it as that of his own lady.'

'Thou art too generous, Sir Earl,' replied Emma, the quick blood flus.h.i.+ng cheek and forehead,--partly through delight, for she was a keen huntress, and appreciated fully the joys of possessing such a bird; but more through confusion, for she felt that she could not accept such a gift from a suitor whom she intended to reject, and that virtually to take the beautiful creature would be to answer Ralph's weighty question of the night before--for in those days a good hawk was of more value than diamonds. To make matters worse, her brother was watching her pitilessly, with a quizzical smile in his eyes, and evident curiosity as to what she would say.

But fortune was kinder than her friends. The company was riding at the moment through a belt of woodland, and, just as Emma was casting about in her mind for an answer to Ralph's speech that might postpone her difficulty, and toying somewhat lovingly with the bird, a lank grey beast trotted silently across the pathway a few yards ahead of the foremost horseman.

The dogs gave tongue and the men also.

'Wolf! wolf!' cried the huntsmen, and half-a-dozen knights of the _meinie_ who carried hauberk and lance dashed forward in pursuit.

All was excitement and commotion. Steeds chafed and curveted, and kept their riders from requiring answers to inconvenient questions, and Emma Fitzosbern felt grateful exceedingly to the fiery Oliver for the trouble he gave his master, and the excuse which his antics afforded her to slip behind to the side of her bower-maiden, Eadgyth of Norwich, who was following on a sober-minded brown palfrey, being but an indifferent horsewoman, and always desirous of a quiet mount.

De Guader gave Oliver the rein and galloped forward.

'I am in sore distress, Emma,' said Eadgyth, as she joined her, 'for my foolish Freya has rushed off after the rest of them, as if a gazehound could pull down a wolf, forsooth! I much fear me she will be hurt.'

Almost as she spoke, the knights returned, one holding aloft the wolfs head as a trophy; but another, a young Norman in De Guader's following, Sir Aimand de Sourdeval by name, carried a wounded hound in his arms.

'It is Freya!' exclaimed Eadgyth, and, riding forward towards the knight, she asked if her favourite was much wounded.

'Nothing dangerously, sweet donzelle,' replied Sir Aimand, looking up with a bright smile, and evidently pleased to have so cheerful an answer to give, both for the hound's sake and the lady's. 'A bite in the forearm, nothing worse, though it lames her. I will bind it, with your permission, when we reach the castle; I have a salve reckoned most healing for the wounds of hounds, and I hope it may prove its worth in the healing of thine.'

Eadgyth thanked the young knight for his courtesy with much sincerity, for she had brought up the greyhound to her own hand, and the creature was full of gentle ways and pretty tricks, which her mistress had taught her, besides being exceptionally beautiful, with a satin skin as white as milk and a body as lithe as any eel's.

It was a great relief to Eadgyth also to note how tenderly Sir Aimand handled her favourite, so that the hound lay quite pa.s.sive in his hold, and she felt content to leave her to the knight's tender mercies.

When they reached the castle, Emma Fitzosbern found herself still carrying the ta.s.sel-gentle on her wrist, and thought with a half sigh that it would be hard to relinquish him, even if she were quite prepared to renounce all that she must take with him. Nor did De Guader give her opportunity to restore the bird to his keeping.

Later in the day, when the May sun was drawing nigh to the summits of the Welsh hills, Emma, her riding garb exchanged for a silken robe of pale blue, embroidered with pearls and silver and edged with vair, very brave to look upon, swept down the long alleys that led from the ladies' bower to the orchard, in company with her young sister-in-law, the Countess of Hereford, and Dame Amicia de Reviers, a venerable lady, who had been Emma's 'guide, philosopher, and governante' since the daughter of Fitzosbern had first opened her grey-blue eyes upon this wicked world, and who now found her aged infirmity soothed by the love and trust of her whilom pupil.

Hereford is, and was, a famous apple country, and in those days it was celebrated for both cider and grape wine. Just then, in the sweet spring weather, the orchard was a pleasant place in which to while away an hour. The insecurity of life making the protection of stone walls imperative, prevented any extensive cultivation of garden flowers, and gardens within castle precincts were necessarily circ.u.mscribed. But the orchard was somewhat more free, though lofty walls surrounded it, over which the trained branches of the vines spread in orderly growth, and were putting forth tufts of tender bronze-green leaves at every spur.

Gillyflowers bloomed between their roots, and their wild yellow brothers found s.p.a.ce for their impudent needs on the crown of the walls. Across the centre of the orchard ran a chattering brook, along the banks of which kingcups made a golden line, and over which a little bridge with toy battlements was built. The pear trees were covered with snow-white flowers and the apples with rosy buds, and under the netted shadows of their straggling boughs the rich green turf was gemmed with primroses and daisies and b.u.t.tercups; while merles and mavises sat amongst the blossoms, striving which should sing the sweetest songs.

From the meadows and pastures beyond the walls came the lowing of cows and the mellow voice of the cuckoo.

Emma carried the ta.s.sel-gentle on her wrist, and a page followed her with a lure and dainty morsels wherewith to tempt the proud bird's appet.i.te; and when the countess and Dame Amicia sat down upon a bench in a small arbour near the stream, she went forward to the bridge, and bade the page set down his burden upon the wall. Then, leaning on the parapet, she amused herself by casting off the bird for short flights, and luring him back, teaching him to recognise the sound of her voice.

The other ladies, who were in view of the performance, applauded when he obeyed her quickly.

Yet Emma had not fully accepted the gift of the bird, or decided what her course should be. She was in great perplexity. In the morning, jubilant with exercise, the glow and excitement of the chase upon her, all difficulties had seemed light save that of renunciation, and the qualified permission which Father Theodred had given her, to follow her own heart in the matter, seemed to move all obstacles from her path.