II
Hawking—A Little Spy—Map Making—A Message by Arrow-Flight—An Attack from the Rear—The Pursuers Divided—Hugh at Bay—A Dash for Liberty—Luke Is Wounded—The Escape of the Hawkers—On the Alert.
CHAPTER II
Within less than three days after the arrangement of the ambush, Edgar and Amabel rode out early one morning attended by a falconer and by old Hugh. It was not usual for Hugh to go with them, and it was only by chance that he went with them this time. Amabel, who had taken a strong liking to the veteran had asked him to make one of their party, and to be umpire in the trial of their hawks. He would not have accepted the invitation except that it offered him an opportunity to become better acquainted with the surrounding country, and he felt that this knowledge might become of great value to him. He refused a spirited horse that was offered him, and chose a quieter riding-horse—one Lady Mortimer used—a white mare capable of some speed when necessary, but fonder of a good road-gait.
It happened that their route led them toward the woods where the little boy hired by Luke was posted; and as they approached they saw him scurrying away in the distance. Amabel laughed to see the little fellow go scampering in such haste through the woods; but Hugh inquired whether they knew him.
"It is not near enough for me to be certain," Edgar replied, "but I think he is not one of the village folk. I do not remember any little fellow of just that age. But Amabel should know better than I, for she is forever pottering among the village folk. She seems to have a natural taste for the peasantry—a taste that I do not share."
"That is because you do not know them. They are a brave, kindly people," said the young girl; "and they bear their troubles with a patient goodness which makes me ashamed to complain of little annoyances."
"But," Hugh insisted, "do you know who the lad is?"
"No," she answered; "I do not think he is one of our people. If he were, I do not see why he should be in such haste to hide in the woods. He knows he has nothing to fear from us. But why do you ask?"
"I have no reason except that his running away seemed strange. It is more like a boy to stand staring at the roadside, or to come toward us," was Hugh's reply. "Boys like hunting, and they are full of curiosity, longing to know what is going on. Possibly, however, he saw some wild creature in the woods, and ran after it—a fox, or some bird."
Hugh said no more, but the incident gave him more uneasiness than he had confessed, and left him vigilant. While Edgar and Amabel rode on, keeping a lookout for some quarry at which to fly their hawks, Hugh rode at a distance behind them, taking advantage of every bit of higher ground to survey the surrounding country. His experience as a soldier had taught him the value of studying the features of every possible battleground, and had also given him some little skill in map-making. He had taken with him from the castle that morning a sheet of parchment, an ink-horn and a quill-pen; and from time to time he added lines or words to a chart of the region round-about the castle—a chart the main outlines of which he had copied from one that hung upon the wall of the great hall in the castle. Very few men of Hugh's rank could write; but he had been intended for the church, and was convent-bred. When about eighteen, he had run away into the woods, where it was believed he was one of Robin Hood's men, and afterward became a soldier, but he still retained enough knowledge of his convent-training to make him seem to his soldier-comrades—and even to some of the nobility—a marvel of learning. He never paraded his learning, since it was apt to lead to awkward questions as to his reasons for giving up the church, and a desire to avoid observation was one thing that led him to linger behind the hunting-party while taking notes of the land features.
But Hugh was not far from the hawkers, for he could hear them talking and laughing; and so, coming to a high hill that seemed likely to afford a wide view, Hugh pushed his way through the light underbrush, and ascended it. He believed that he would be able, by pushing his steed a little, to overtake the members of his party. And he would have done so if they had kept the moderate pace at which they had been traveling. It happened, however, that the hunters let slip their hawks just about the time that Hugh entered the woods at the base of the hill, and that, riding after them, they went a long distance before he had come out upon the rocky summit. Hugh had dismounted and tied his horse to a low bush, and then had climbed to the top of a ledge of rock that was the highest point of the hill.
When Hugh could look about him, he was glad that he had taken the trouble to climb the little eminence, for it gave him a wide view in all directions. He could see Mortimer Castle to the north, the castle of de Ferrers to the south, the windings of the river for many miles, and the roads, except where they were concealed by heavy wood growth. He had brought his chart with him to the top of the rock, and now set himself to correct parts of it, and to note certain new features he could make out. Suddenly, as he happened to be looking down upon a certain road that lay to the northward toward the Mortimers' castle, he saw half a dozen horsemen ride from a dense part of the forest out upon the open road. They were between Hugh and the hawking-party, and on the road to the castle. Hugh sprang to his feet, and shading his eyes with his hand did his best to make out the men's equipment. Though he could see that there were not any men in armor among them, yet they carried weapons, for now and then the sun flashed from their spear-points. At once he remembered the flight of the boy into the woods, and he suspected the ambuscade. Apparently these soldiers were traveling slowly so as to make as little noise as possible, and hoped to come upon the hawkers without giving warning of their approach. Hugh knew that Edgar and the falconer were unarmed, except for their hunting-knives and Edgar's light hunting-spear, and would be entirely unable to offer any resistance if attacked. He could see Edgar and Amabel on the road not far ahead of the horsemen, and yet for a moment he could think of no way of giving them warning. But the old soldier was not long in perplexity. Drawing his knife he cut a strip of parchment from the edge of the chart, and then wrote on it these words:
"Ferrers' men on road south of you, armed. For your lives, ride to the castle. I am safe.
He wrote with all speed, then leaping from the rock ran to where his horse was tethered, put on his quiver, snatched his bow from its leather case, and returned to the rock. He wrapped the bit of parchment around the arrow shaft near its head, tied it with a thong from his laced doublet, and then took his station on the extreme edge of the rocky summit whence he could see the two parties—his enemies and his friends. Every second counted, slowly as both were riding, and Hugh did not waste a moment. When all was ready he drew to the very head the arrow bearing the message and shot it forth and upward with all his strength.
Never, even in the old days with Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest had Hugh of Cambray loosed so strong a shaft. The arrow whizzed into the sky, and at first was invisible. Then, far, far away, it could be seen dropping like a meteor, and the old man, leaning upon his great bow, gave a sigh of satisfaction as he saw that it had fallen, point downward, into the roadway not far beyond Edgar and Amabel.
Hugh waited until he saw them reach the arrow, saw Edgar lean from the saddle and pluck the arrow out of the ground, and then he hurried to his horse and mounted with all speed. Anyone who had seen the old soldier only in times of inaction, would have been amazed at his activity now, as he forced his horse down the steep hillside at a gallop, taking risks that frightened the easy-going old steed herself. Hugh was not at all careful to go quietly, and on the contrary shouted to his horse, cheered her on, and made all the noise he could.
Reaching the level road again, Hugh drove his spurs into his amazed steed, and set off at a run after the Ferrers men-at-arms. As they were still traveling rather slowly, it was not many minutes before he was within sight and even hailing distance of them. When he suddenly reached the end of a straight stretch of road and could see them, they were just climbing a rise in the road, and in a moment they were upon its top, and plainly outlined against the sky. Evidently the first two who reached this elevation must have caught sight of the Mortimer party, for with a shout they suddenly struck spurs, shook reins, and dashed downward out of sight.
Seeing this Hugh raised himself in his stirrups and shouted as loudly as he could: "Mortimer!—Mortimer!—a Mortimer to the rescue!" at the same time charging forward with a loud cry. This had the effect he desired, for those who had not yet crossed the brink of the hill, recalled the others, for a hurried consultation. But seeing only one pursuer, the Ferrers men-at-arms left two of their number on guard in the road, while four of them resumed pursuit of the fugitives in front.
Hugh's object being simply to call off from the chase as many men as possible and to detain them as long as he could, he made no attempt to advance upon the two left in the road, but, acting as if he were afraid of them, he wheeled his horse about and took to flight. As he hoped, upon seeing him flee, they pursued, and gradually increased their speed as he showed no sign of resisting them. Hugh also rode faster, getting more speed out oi the white mare than he had supposed she could show. In fact, as he had no wish to run too far away from his pursuers, he had to check the animal from time to time, so that the enemy might not become discouraged. If Hugh had escaped the first pursuit, Ferrers' men would have rejoined their comrades, but as they seemed always just on the point of overtaking him, they kept on without realizing that they were putting a long distance between themselves and their friends though getting no nearer to him.
When Hugh considered that he had led them too for away for them to be of use to the rest, he suddenly pulled up in the road, wheeled his horse about, dismounted, and set an arrow upon the string, while he held another in his bow-hand. Seeing him turn at bay, Ferrers' men also reined in their horses, coming to a halt; for there was something in the coolness of the bowman that warned them not to be rash. As they halted, Hugh lowered his bow, and addressed them:
"I shall fly no farther," he cried. "If you men value your lives you will keep your distance. After your villainous and cowardly attempt to seize my young master and mistress, you deserve no mercy at my hands. I pretended to run from you only to draw you away, but now that you can do no harm, I am glad to tell you you are a pair of cowardly curs without the courage to attack any, save peaceful hunters. Two twangs of this string, and you would both be spitted from breast to back, like piglings ready for roasting, before either could draw a sword. Now, you see the broad field to the right of you:—out of my road! or by the Horn of Robin, I will send a shaft through you."
The two men talked together in an undertone.
"Do you think he is a mere brawling braggart?" one asked the other. "Shall we ride him down?"
"No, no!" the other replied quickly. "He is an old soldier, I know by the way his hand fits to the bow. Why should we risk our lives for nothing? Luke the Lurdane must have young Mortimer and the wench by now. Let us make our way homeward. As well go over the fields as by the road. We are not knights, man, to spill good red blood without reason. Come!"
So saying, he turned his horse from the traveled path and rode away over the stubbly field on his right. The other was reluctant to go, but he saw no answer to his comrade's argument, and therefore, after a last look at sturdy Hugh and his long bow, followed into the field, leaving the road clear.
No sooner were they at a fair distance, than Hugh remounted, and passed along the road at a swinging pace. He was pleased with the success of his strategy, but he did not yet know whether Edgar, Amabel, and the falconer had succeeded in escaping from the four men-at-arms, and he was eager to reach the castle if they had escaped, or hoped to secure their release if it should happen that they had been overtaken and captured.
"I'll warrant," Hugh muttered to himself as he jogged on at the quickest pace his steed could maintain, "that they will never take young Mortimer without a fight, unless he fears that resistance may endanger the Lady Amabel!"
Every few hundred rods, Hugh stopped his horse and listened to detect the sound of horses' hoofs, or the clash of arms. But in spite of this precaution he did not hear Luke the Lurdane's party until he ran right into the midst of them, for it happened that during one of his listening pauses, they had been watering their horses at a little stream by the roadside, and so he could hear nothing. Suddenly, rounding a turn in the road, Hugh saw the four horsemen directly in front and not thirty feet away. Luke the Lurdane instantly cried out: "Forward and take him!" setting his men the example by slapping his horse upon the flank, and riding directly toward Hugh. Hugh, seeing that the only safe course was the boldest, instead of losing time by wheeling about to take flight, drove his spurs deep into the mare's sides, and dashed forward to meet the charge, at the same time drawing a heavy hunting-knife—the one Lord Mortimer had given him as a prize. Luke's horse shied as Hugh's approached. Luke tried to catch the other's rein, and received a slash across the back of the hand that disabled him, and in an instant Hugh had driven through a gap between two of the following horses, and was galloping down the road before they realized that he had passed them.
At first they attempted to pursue, but when Luke saw that the old soldier's bow was strung and that he was drawing an arrow from the quiver, the order was given to let him go—and the order was glady obeyed, for they had no weapons except for use at close quarters. Hugh, seeing that pursuit was abandoned, at once checked his horse, and rode homeward at his leisure.
He knew that all was well since he had met the pursuers empty-handed, and soon he had so far forgotten the adventures of the morning as to draw forth his parchment chart of the country that he might compare it with the region through which his homeward route led him. Thus his return to the castle, though later than he had expected, was quite as peaceable in appearance as his setting-out had been.
As he emerged from the road under the trees and came out into the open ground that led up to the front of the castle—a broad, sloping plateau, rather steep, but surmounted by a zigzag road that reduced the grade—he saw Edgar and Amabel standing upon the top of one of the front towers. They waved to him and cheered as he came in sight. The drawbridge had been raised, but it was at once lowered with a rattling of chains and creaking of timbers—and in a moment more Hugh was helped from his horse by Edgar, who came running into the courtyard as the old soldier rode in.
Hugh's hand was warmly shaken by the young man as soon as they were both on foot, and then Edgar asked him to come up on the battlements where the ladies were sitting, in order that they might learn how he had succeeded in getting back to the castle by the direct road, for they had expected that he would be forced to strike into the woods and make his way home by a round-about course. Hugh insisted that there was really nothing worth telling, but Edgar would not be refused, and told him that his dinner was awaiting him there, together with a good draught of ale.
As Hugh was curious to learn the particulars of the hawkers' escape, he followed Edgar without much objection, and climbing the stone stairs that ran up in the thickness of the great stone walls, he found himself in a few moments settled before a small joint-table upon which there was a good supply of venison pasty, a manchet of bread, and a jug of brown ale. Lady Mortimer and Amabel both rose as the old soldier came before them hat in hand.
"I shall never forget your service to-day," said Lady Mortimer. "If it had not been for your keen wit and ready device, my son and my ward would now be lying in Count Ferrers' dungeons, and you might yourself, Hugh, be left dead in the road—for I am sure you would have attempted their rescue even against such odds!"
"Yes, my lady," Hugh answered quietly. "And not such great odds perhaps. They did not know I was there, and I had arrows enough in my quiver to answer for three or four of the villains—with good luck to aid me, I might have managed with the others."
"Sit down, Hugh," said Lady Amabel, placing a chair for him. "While you are eating, we can tell you how well your message served us." He seated himself, and listened as he ate; and the young lady went on: "We had just unhooded and slipped our hawks when you left us, or soon afterward, and they had brought down a wild duck—both working together. Then we had just recalled them to the lures, attached the jesses, and regained the road a moment or two before your arrow came from the skies. Edgar drew it from the ground, and at once saw the scroll. It took but a glance to read it, and then we dashed at full speed for the castle. We had gone but a few rods when we saw the Ferrers men on the crest of a little knoll, and they must have seen us at the same moment for we heard the beating of their horses' hoofs. Suddenly, for some unknown reason, the foremost pursuers turned again, and raced back to the others"
"Yes, my lady," said Hugh, smiling, "that was when I made a rear attack. Nothing like an unexpected enemy at your back to take the heart out of a charge. I yelled as if I were leading twenty good horsemen at least. But it was only a feint, and could delay them but a few moments."
"Those moments were golden for us," Edgar broke in, "for I knew a cross-cut over a field, while they, not seeing us shorten the road, went by the beaten track. Thus we even increased our lead over them."
"And yet it was a narrow escape," Amabel said. "We were, as you know, some three or four miles from the castle, and they drove their horses like fiends. So did we. The falconer and I led the van—being in retreat, while Edgar, having his spear, made up the rear guard. At first we were afraid they had bows, and might shoot at the horses, if not at ourselves; but when we saw it was to be only a contest of speed, we were less uneasy. In brief, we held our own, and had reached the drawbridge when we saw them draw up at the edge of the wood."
"You saw that we had closed the castle when you came," Edgar went on in turn. "But that was only to take every precaution. We did not know whether there might not be a larger force ready to take advantage of the confusion caused by our hurried return."
Then, having finished his light dinner, Hugh gave a brief account of his encounter with Ferrers' men. Edgar was especially pleased that Hugh had wounded the leader—whom Hugh described to him.
"That is Luke the Lurdane," said Edgar—"a plotter of mischief, and a worthless wretch. The Count de Ferrers is a man of some ability, and a skilled soldier, it is said. But Luke is a sly knave who does not love buffeting or cold steel, and ever tries to gain his ends by sly trickery. No doubt the attempt to take us by suprise was of his hatching. The Count would be more likely to march up to the castle with banners afloat, and trumpets all sounding. Against fair fighting we are well prepared, but against the plots of that sneaking scoundrel Luke, we should be helpless if we had not the help of such a brain as yours, Hugh. So I am right glad that he will have a sore hand to nurse for a while. It may serve to distract his mind."
"By your leave, madam," said Hugh, rising, "I will thank your ladyship, and retire to my own quarters. I feel my age now, after even so slight a skirmish as this morning's affair."
"I will not forget to see you suitably rewarded for your service," said Lady Mortimer, "and the baron shall himself thank you also upon his return. Meanwhile the attempt of to-day puts an end to all uncertainty of the Count de Ferrers' intentions. We shall have to stand a siege, and we may be thankful that we have put all in readiness. After to-day, as the harvesting is about completed, we shall see that the garrison is on the alert as if we were indeed at war. With so strong and unscrupulous an enemy, we must leave nothing undone for our security."