The Winning of the Golden Spurs Part 31
Silently the weary soldiers fell into their ranks. The archers, their white surcoats soiled with mud and stained with blood, the men-at-arms, with battered armour, and, in many cases, roughly-bandaged wounds, stood grimly in their martial array, conscious of the many comrades who had stood thus but a day before and had gone to their last account.
Suddenly a fanfare of trumpets announced the approach of the King.
With his eyes shining with pardonable pride, the monarch rode slowly down the war-worn lines, stopping at intervals to bestow honours and praise as cases of individual merit were pointed out to him. At his right hand rode the Prince of Wales, and attending him were Sir John Chandos, the Earls of Warwick, Arundel, Oxford, and Southampton.
When in front of the Hampshire companies the King again drew rein, and surveyed the stern, determined faces of the men on whom the brunt of the attack had fallen. Sir John Hacket, attended by his three squires, stood in front of his command, the banners, according to custom, being lowered to the ground in the presence of the Sovereign.
"By Our Lady! 'Tis our trusted Constable of Portchester!" exclaimed Edward. "And by report thou didst hold thyself right gallantly on yesterday's field. Ah, Sir John, we have something in store to make amends for our former forgetfulness. Advance thy banner!"
The Constable, taking his banner from the hands of the guidon-bearer, stepped forward, and, with bended knee, presented the blue silk emblazoned with the golden crescent to the King, who, drawing a dagger from his belt, deftly cut off the pointed end of the pennon.
Handing the severed portion to a knight in attendance, the King returned the banner to Sir John.
The action, simple as it seemed, roused the company to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, for their adored leader had achieved the great distinction of being created a knight-banneret, the greatest honour to be paid by the sovereign, only on the field of battle.
Ere the cheering had died away, the Prince of Wales had plucked his father's sleeve, and whispered in his ear.
"Of a truth, 'tis the squire who brought the Count of Tancarville to our camp! And he is the man that came betwixt thee and thine enemies in the thickest of the fray! 'Tis our pleasure to bestow honours freely to-day, though, methinks, they be well deserved, and no man will chide us for being too freehanded. Thy squire's name, Sir John?"
"He is named Raymond Buckland, sire."
"Come hither, squire," commanded the King, alighting from his palfrey and taking a sword from the hand of the Earl of Warwick.
The supreme moment of Raymond's life was at hand, but the squire, instead of kneeling to receive the honour of knighthood, advanced a few paces and stood irresolutely before his sovereign.
"On thy knees, squire!" commanded Edward.
"Nay, sire, I cannot," replied the unhappy Raymond. Low murmurs of astonishment arose from the King's attendants, while Sir John Hacket, placing his hand heavily on his squire's shoulder, hissed into his ear, "Kneel, thou fool! Art bereft of thy senses?"
A dark cloud gathered on the King's face. Then a thought seemed to strike him, and he spoke again.
"Here, sirrah, tell us the reason of this strange refusal. Nay, have no fear," he added, in a more kindly tone, observing the squire's dejection, "for we perceive there is something amiss that will account for thy demeanour."
Encouraged by the King's words, and rendered bold by the desperate position in which circ.u.mstances had placed him, Raymond replied, in a low yet distinct voice, "Sire, I am the son of an outlaw, and therefore unworthy of the honour thou would'st bestow."
"Ah!" exclaimed the King. "This requires further consideration. Sir John, knowest aught of this?"
"Nay, sire," replied the amazed Constable.
Once again the young Prince of Wales whispered in his father's ear.
The King nodded in response, and again addressed the squire.
"It is our desire to hear more of this matter. See to it that thou comest before us in our pavilion at noon, Sir John. I hold thee responsible for thy squire's appearance. And, Sir William," he added, turning to his scrivener, "I pray thee see to it that the worthy Constable of Portchester and his squire be instantly admitted to our presence at that hour."
Remounting his steed, the King, accompanied by his retinue, continued his tour of inspection, and, on this being completed, he returned to his pavilion. The ranks broke, and the men were told to enjoy a well-earned rest ere the march to Calais was begun on the morrow, while the camp-followers were put to the melancholy task of burying the dead who had fallen in the fight.
On hearing the story from Raymond's own lips, the kind-hearted Sir John Hacket's expressions of surprise and pity were unbounded. For not for one moment had he suspected that the st.u.r.dy master-bowman, though an outlaw, was at one time a gentleman of quality.
"Take it not too much to heart, Raymond," he said. "Many a man hath been in a worse sc.r.a.pe. I am of a mind to bring Sir Maurice Revyngton with us when we repair to the King's presence, and 'twould be well if I saw the knight at once."
So saying, the Constable hastened away, leaving his squire still torn with conflicting emotions of hope and fear--hope that his own stainless character and deeds of bravery would wipe out the undeserved blot that threatened to mar his prospects, and fear that the formidable barrier of social custom and royal etiquette would for ever debar him from the road to success.
In less than an hour Sir John returned, a broad smile of satisfaction overspreading his grim features. "Thy uncle will bear us company, ay, and another knight, if I mistake not, will interest himself on thy behalf. Now, bear thyself cheerfully, for I perceive that things will turn out aright. Waste no more time in gloomy meditations, but make thyself fit to appear in the King's presence, for the hour of audience is at hand."
"And the style of mine attire?"
"In full harness, Raymond, for the King will doubtless think fit to reward thee for bravery on the field, and on that score I have no doubt. 'Tis meet that thou shouldst appear in the garb of a soldier rather than in the dress of a common suppliant. And, moreover, our King delights in the wearing of harness, and looks with favour on those who doff their armour but rarely when they come to the wars. So again I tell thee, hasten!"
The squire repaired to his own tent and put on his complete suit of armour--the same that his father had given him years ago on the eve of the sack of Hamble--and well the dented and tarnished steel befitted his tall and erect figure. Then girding on his scabbard, wherein was thrust the remaining part of the broken blade, and grasping the fragment of the shield that had diverted the murderous sweep of the Frenchman's two-handed sword, Raymond repaired to his master's tent.
The Constable surveyed him with appreciation. "Eh, lad, thou dost well to bear the silent testimony of thy courage on thine arm. In any case but the present, when thy future is at stake, 'twould have been a braggart's ruse. But the King doth know full well that thou art no boaster, seeing that it was in thy power to accept honour at his hands, and thou didst shrink from it. But come, the hour of noon is near. Let us make for the royal pavilion."
Between the long lines of tents, where crowds of soldiers gathered, in silent wonder, to see the man who had so strangely withstood his sovereign, the knight and the squire walked side by side, and with a fresh wave of doubt and fear sweeping over him, Raymond found himself in the anteroom of the royal tent.
CHAPTER XXII
SIR RAYMOND
SIR JOHN HACKET, having formally announced his rank and that of his companion, as well as the nature of their business, to the herald, removed his velvet cap, though he held his bascinet in his left hand, and at the same time removed his right-hand gauntlet. His squire did likewise, and, breathing a fervent prayer for courage, he prepared to follow his master into the royal presence.
The heavy damask curtains were drawn aside by two knights in waiting, and Raymond heard the sonorous voice of the herald repeating the t.i.tle and style of the Constable and his squire. Another moment and Raymond stood before, but at a respectful distance from, the royal das.
King Edward, who still wore the mailed coat in which he rode along the ranks earlier in the day, was attended by a number of earls and barons, while by his side stood the young Prince of Wales, who regarded the squire with an encouraging smile.
At the foot of the das, a little distance to the left, stood Raymond's uncle, Sir Maurice Revyngton, and his late father's former enemy, Sir Reginald Scarsdale, who, though still weak and suffering from his wounds, had, at Sir John's desire, appeared on the young squire's behalf.
"Ah, squire," quoth the King, fixing his dark, keen eyes upon the young man's face, "when we summoned thee to appear before us we looked for an explanation from thine own lips. But thou hast been forestalled, for these two knights have already told us of thy condition. Now, what hast thou to say why thou shouldst not be driven from the camp, being the son of an outlaw?"
"Nothing, sire; 'tis but the law."
"Thou couldst not have said much less," remarked the King, with a grim laugh. "How sayest thou, Sir Reginald Scarsdale. Hast thou a desire to press thy claims?"
"Nay, sire," replied the knight stoutly. "For his father, knowingly and willingly, came to my aid in the thickest of the fight, and but for his courage I should have been worsted."
"But thine oath of vengeance?"
"Sire, my desire for revenge departed the moment I heard from this squire the name of his father, who, in truth, slew my only brother.
Furthermore, 'tis my intention to repair, as soon as this war is over, to the shrine of St. Swithin of Winchester and to seek absolution from mine oath."
"And thou hast no wish to harm this squire?"
"None, sire. On the contrary I wish him good----"
"Hold, Sir Knight," interrupted the King sharply. "We asked thee a plain question, to be answered by 'Yea' or 'Nay,' not by suggestions."
"And thou, Sir John," continued Edward, addressing the Constable.