The Outlaw of Torn by Edgar Rice Burroughs (read with me .txt) ๐
And now the English King had put upon him such an insult as might only bewiped out by blood.
As the blow fell, the wiry Frenchman clicked his heels together, andthrowing down his foil, he stood erect and rigid as a marble statue beforehis master. White and livid was his tense drawn face, but he spoke noword.
He might have struck the King, but then there would have been left to himno alternative save death by his own hand; for a king may not fight with alesser mortal, and he who strikes a king may not live -- the king's honormust be satisfied.
Had a French king struck him, De Vac would have struck back, and gloried inthe fate which permitted him to die for the honor of France; but an EnglishK
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They rode for many miles in silence when suddenly she turned, saying:
โYou take your time, Sir Knight, in answering my query. Who be ye ?โ
โI am Nor โ โ and then he stopped. Always before he had answered that question with haughty pride. Why should he hesitate, he thought. Was it because he feared the loathing that name would inspire in the breast of this daughter of the aristocracy he despised ? Did Norman of Torn fear to face the look of seem and repugnance that was sure to be mirrored in that lovely face ?
โI am from Normandy,โ he went on quietly. โA gentleman of France.โ
โBut your name ?โ she said peremptorily. โAre you ashamed of your name ?โ
โYou may call me Roger,โ he answered. โRoger de Conde.โ
โRaise your visor, Roger de Conde,โ she commanded. โI do not take pleasure in riding with a suit of armor; I would see that there is a man within.โ
Norman of Torn smiled as he did her bidding, and when he smiled thus, as he rarely did, he was good to look upon.
โIt is the first command I have obeyed since I turned sixteen, Bertrade de Montfort,โ he said.
The girl was about nineteen, full of the vigor and gaiety of youth and health; and so the two rode on their journey talking and laughing as they might have been friends of long standing.
She told him of the reason for the attack upon her earlier in the day, attributing it to an attempt on the part of a certain baron, Peter of Colfax, to abduct her, his suit for her hand having been peremptorily and roughly denied by her father.
Simon de Montfort was no man to mince words, and it is doubtless that the old reprobate who sued for his daughterโs hand heard some unsavory truths from the man who had twice scandalized Englandโs nobility by his rude and discourteous, though true and candid, speeches to the King.
โThis Peter of Colfax shall be looked to,โ growled Norman of Torn. โAnd, as you have refused his heart and hand, his head shall be yours for the asking. You have but to command, Bertrade de Montfort.โ
โVery well,โ she laughed, thinking it but the idle boasting so much indulged in in those days. โYou may bring me his head upon a golden dish, Roger de Conde.โ
โAnd what reward does the knight earn who brings to the feet of his princess the head of her enemy ?โ he asked lightly.
โWhat boon would the knight ask ?โ
โThat whatsoever a bad report you hear of your knight, of whatsoever calumnies may be heaped upon him, you shall yet ever be his friend, and believe in his honor and his loyalty.โ
The girl laughed gaily as she answered, though something seemed to tell her that this was more than play.
โIt shall be as you say, Sir Knight,โ she replied. โAnd the boon once granted shall be always kept.โ
Quick to reach decisions and as quick to act, Norman of Torn decided that he liked this girl and that he wished her friendship more than any other thing he knew of. And wishing it, he determined to win it by any means that accorded with his standard of honor; an honor which in many respects was higher than that of the nobles of his time.
They reached the castle of De Stutevill late in the afternoon, and there, Norman of Torn was graciously welcomed and urged to accept the Baronโs hospitality overnight.
The grim humor of the situation was too much for the outlaw, and, when added to his new desire to be in the company of Bertrade de Montfort, he made no effort to resist, but hastened to accept the warm welcome.
At the long table upon which the evening meal was spread sat the entire household of the Baron, and here and there among the men were evidences of painful wounds but barely healed, while the host himself still wore his sword arm in a sling.
โWe have been through grievous times,โ said Sir John, noticing that his guest was glancing at the various evidences of conflict. โThat fiend, Norman the Devil, with his filthy pack of cutthroats, besieged us for ten days, and then took the castle by storm and sacked it. Life is no longer safe in England with the King spending his time and money with foreign favorites and buying alien soldiery to fight against his own barons, instead of insuring the peace and protection which is the right of every Englishman at home.
โBut,โ he continued, โthis outlaw devil will come to the end of a short halter when once our civil strife is settled, for the barons themselves have decided upon an expedition against him, if the King will not subdue him.โ
โAnโ he may send the barons naked home as he did the Kingโs soldiers,โ laughed Bertrade de Montfort. โI should like to see this fellow; what may he look like โ from the appearance of yourself, Sir John, and many of your men-at-arms, there should be no few here but have met him.โ
โNot once did he raise his visor while he was among us,โ replied the Baron, โbut there are those who claim they had a brief glimpse of him and that he is of horrid countenance, wearing a great yellow beard and having one eye gone, and a mighty red scar from his forehead to his chin.โ
โA fearful apparition,โ murmured Norman of Torn. โNo wonder he keeps his helm closed.โ
โBut such a swordsman,โ spoke up a son of De Stutevill. โNever in all the world was there such swordplay as I saw that day in the courtyard.โ
โI, too, have seen some wonderful swordplay,โ said Bertrade de Montfort, โand that today. O he !โ she cried, laughing gleefully, โverily do I believe I have captured the wild Norman of Torn, for this very knight, who styles himself Roger de Conde, fights as I neโer saw man fight before, and he rode with his visor down until I chide him for it.โ
Norman of Torn led in the laugh which followed, and of all the company he most enjoyed the joke.
โAnโ speaking of the Devil,โ said the Baron, โhow think you he will side should the King eventually force war upon the barons ? With his thousand hell-hounds, the fate of England might well he in the palm of his bloody hand.โ
โHe loves neither King nor baron,โ spoke Mary de Stutevill, โand I rather lean to the thought that he will serve neither, but rather plunder the castles of both rebel and royalist whilst their masters be absent at war.โ
โIt be more to his liking to come while the master be home to welcome him,โ said De Stutevill, ruthfully. โBut yet I am always in fear for the safety of my wife and daughters when I be away from Derby for any time. May the good God soon deliver England from this Devil of Torn.โ
โI think you may have no need of fear on that score,โ spoke Mary, โfor Norman of Torn offered no violence to any woman within the wall of Stutevill, and when one of his men laid a heavy hand upon me, it was the great outlaw himself who struck the fellow such a blow with his mailed hand as to crack the ruffianโs helm, saying at the time, โKnow you, fellow, Norman of Torn does not war upon women ?โโ
Presently the conversation turned to other subjects and Norman of Torn heard no more of himself during that evening.
His stay at the castle of Stutevill was drawn out to three days, and then, on the third day, as he sat with Bertrade de Montfort in an embrasure of the south tower of the old castle, he spoke once more of the necessity for leaving and once more she urged him to remain.
โTo be with you, Bertrade of Montfort,โ he said boldly, โI would forego any other pleasure, and endure any privation, or face any danger, but there are others who look to me for guidance and my duty calls me away from you. You shall see me again, and at the castle of your father, Simon de Montfort, in Leicester. Provided,โ he added, โthat you will welcome me there.โ
โI shall always welcome you, wherever I may be, Roger de Conde,โ replied the girl.
โRemember that promise,โ he said smiling. โSome day you may be glad to repudiate it.โ
โNever,โ she insisted, and a light that shone in her eyes as she said it would have meant much to a man better versed in the ways of women than was Norman of Torn.
โI hope not,โ he said gravely. โI cannot tell you, being but poorly trained in courtly ways, what I should like to tell you, that you might know how much your friendship means to me. Goodbye, Bertrade de Montfort,โ and he bent to one knee, as he raised her fingers to his lips.
As he passed over the drawbridge and down toward the highroad a few minutes later on his way back to Torn, he turned for one last look at the castle and there, in an embrasure in the south tower, stood a young woman who raised her hand to wave, and then, as though by sudden impulse, threw a kiss after the departing knight, only to disappear from the embrasure with the act.
As Norman of Torn rode back to his grim castle in the hills of Derby, he had much food for thought upon the way. Never till now had he realized what might lie in another manner of life, and he felt a twinge of bitterness toward the hard, old man whom he called father, and whose teachings from the boyโs earliest childhood had guided him in the ways that had out him off completely from the society of other men, except the wild horde of outlaws, ruffians and adventurers that rode beneath the grisly banner of the young chief of Torn.
Only in an ill-defined, nebulous way did he feel that it was the girl who had come into his life that caused him for the first time to feel shame for his past deeds. He did not know the meaning of love, and so he could not know that he loved Bertrade de Montfort.
And another thought which now filled his mind was the fact of his strange likeness to the Crown Prince of England. This, together with the words of Father Claude, puzzled him sorely. What might it mean ? Was it a heinous offence to own an accidental likeness to a kingโs son ?
But now that he felt he had solved the reason that he rode always with closed helm, he was for the first time anxious himself to hide his face from the sight of men. Not from fear, for he knew not fear, but from some inward impulse which he did not attempt to fathom.
As Norman of Torn rode out from the castle of De Stutevill, Father Claude dismounted from his sleek donkey within the ballium of Torn. The austere stronghold, notwithstanding its repellent exterior and unsavory reputation, always extended a warm welcome to the kindly, genial priest; not alone because of the deep friendship which
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