In the Days of Chivalry: A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince by Everett-Green (amazing books to read .TXT) 📕

"Constanza my life -- my love!"

"O Gaston, Gaston! can it in very truth be thou?"

Raymond looked on in mute amaze, turning his eyes from the lovers towards the miller, who was watching the encounter with a beaming face.

"What means it all?" asked the youth breathlessly.

"Marry, it means that the maiden has found her true knight," answered Jean, all aglow with delight; but then, understanding better the drift of Raymond's question, he turned his eyes upon him again, and said:

"You would ask how she came hither? Well, that is soon told. It was one night nigh upon six months agone, and we had long been abed, when we heard a wailing sound beneath our windows, and Margot declared there was a maiden sobbing in the garden below. She went down to see, and then the maid told her a strange, wild tale. She was of the kindred of the Sieur de Navailles, she said, and was the betrothed wife of Gaston de Brocas; and as we knew somewhat of her tale through Father Anselm, who had heard of your captivity and rescue, we knew that she spoke the truth. She said that since the escape, which had so perplexed the wicked lord, he had become more fierce and cruel than before, and that he seemed in some sort to suspect her, though of what she scarce knew. She told us that his mind seemed to be deserting him, that she feared he was growing lunatic. He was so fierce and wild at times that she feared for her own life. She bore it as long as her maid, the faithful Annette, lived; but in the summer she fell sick of a fever, and died -- the lady knew not if it were not poison that had carried her off -- and a great terror seized her. Not two days later, she fled from her gloomy home, and not knowing where else to hide her head, she fled hither, trusting that her lover would shortly come to free her from her uncle's tyranny, as he had sworn, and believing that the home which had sheltered the infancy of the De Brocas brothers would give her shelter till that day came."

"And you took her in and guarded her, and kept her safe from harm," cried Raymond, grasping the hand of the honest peasant and wringing it hard. "It was like you to do it, kind, good souls! My brother will thank you, in his own fashion, for such service. But I must thank you, too. And where is Margot? for I trow she has been as a mother to the maid. I would see her and thank her, for Gaston has no eyes nor ears for any one but his fair lady."

Gaston, indeed, was like one in a dream. He could scarce believe the evidence of his senses; and it was a pretty sight to see how the winsome Constanza clung to him, and how it seemed as though she could not bear to let her eyes wander for a moment from his face.

Only at night, when the brothers stood together in the room they had occupied of yore, and clasped each other by the hand in warm congratulation, did Raymond really know how this meeting affected the object of their journey; then Gaston, looking grave and thoughtful, spoke a few words of his purpose.

"The Sieur de Navailles is a raging madman. That I can well divine from what Constanza says. Tomorrow we will to Saut, to see what we may discover there on the spot. It may be we may have no bloody warfare to wage; it may be that Saut may be won without the struggle we have thought. His own people are terrified before him. Constanza thinks that I have but to declare myself and show the King's warrant to be proclaimed by all as Lord and Master of Saut."

"In the King's name!"

The old seneschal at the drawbridge eyed with glances of awed suspicion the gallant young knight who had ridden so boldly up to the walls of Saut and had bidden him lower the bridge. A few paces behind the leader was a compact little body of horsemen, all well mounted and well armed, though it was little their bright weapons could do against the solid walls of the grim old fortress, girdled as it was with its wide and deep moat. The pale sunshine of a winter's day shone upon the trappings of the little band, and lighted up the stone walls with something of unwonted brightness. It revealed to those upon the farther side of the moat the perplexed countenance of the old seneschal, who did not meet Gaston's bold demand for admittance with defiance or refusal, but stood staring at the apparition, as if not knowing what to make of it; and when the demand had been repeated somewhat more peremptorily, he still stood doubtful and hesitating, saying over and over to himself the same words:

"In the King's name! in the King's name!"

"Ay, fellow, in the King's name," repeated Gaston sternly. "Wilt thou see his warrant? I have it here. Thou hadst best have a care how thou settest at defiance the King's seal and signet. Knowest thou not that his royal son is within a few leagues of this very spot?"

The old man only shook his head, as if scarce comprehending the drift of these words, and presently he looked up to ask:

"Of which King speak you, good Sir Knight?"

"Of the English King, fellow, the only King I acknowledge! Whose servant doth thy master call himself? Thou hadst better go and tell him that King Edward of England has sent a message to him."

"Tell my master!" repeated the seneschal, with a strange gesture, as he lifted his hand and touched his head. "To what good would that be? My master understands no word that is said to him. He raves up and down the hall day by day, taking note of naught about him. Thou hadst best have a care how thou beardest him, Sir Knight. We go in terror of our very lives through him."

"Ye need go no longer in that fear," cried Gaston, with a kindling of the eyes, as he bared his noble head and looked forth at the old man with his fearless glance, "for in me ye will find a master whom none need fear who do their duty by him and by the King. Seneschal, I stand here the lawful Lord of Saut -- lord by hereditary right, and by the mandate of England's King, the Roy Outremer, as you call him. I am Gaston de Brocas, of the old race who owned these lands long before the false Navailles had set foot therein. I have come back armed with the King's warrant to claim mine own.

"Say, men, will ye have me for your lord? or will ye continue to serve yon raging madman till England's King sends an army to raze Saut to the ground, and slay the rebellious horde within these ancient walls?"

Gaston had raised his voice as he had gone on speaking, for he saw that the dialogue with the old seneschal had attracted the attention of a number of men-at-arms, who had gradually mustered about the gate to hear what was passing.

Gaston spoke his native dialect like one of themselves. The name of De Brocas was known far and wide in that land, and was everywhere spoken with affection and respect. The fierce rapacity of the Navailles was equally feared and hated. Even the stout soldiers who had followed his fortunes so long regarded him with fear and distrust. No man in those days felt certain of his life. If he chanced to offend the madman, a savage blow from that strong arm might fell him to the earth; whilst some amongst their companions had from time to time mysteriously disappeared, and their fate had never been disclosed.

A sense of fearfulness and uncertainty had long reigned at Saut. The mad master had his own myrmidons in the Tower, who would do his bidding whatever that bidding might be; and that there were dark secrets hidden away in those underground dungeons and secret chambers everybody in the Castle well knew. Hardly one of the men now gathered on the opposite side of the moat but had awakened at some time or other from a horrid dream, believing himself to have been spirited down into those gloomy subterranean places, there to expiate some trifling offence, according as their savage lord should give order. Many of these men had assisted at scenes which seemed frightful to them when they pictured themselves the victims of the cruelty of the fierce man they had long served, but whom now they had grown to fear and distrust.

A sense of horror had long been hanging over Saut, and since the disappearance of the maiden who once had brightened the grim place by her presence, this horror had perceptibly deepened. Not one of all the men-at-arms dared even to his fellow to propose the remedy. Each feared that if he breathed what was in his own mind, the very walls would whisper it in the ears of their lord, and that the offender would be doomed to some horrible death, to act as a warning to others like-minded with himself. Since the loss of his niece, almost as mysterious to him as the escape of Raymond de Brocas from the prison, the clouds of doubt and suspicion had closed more and more darkly round the miserable man, who had let himself become the slave of his passions until these had increased to absolute madness. His unbridled fury and fits of maniac rage had estranged from him even the most attached of his old retainers, and in proportion as he felt this with the instinct of cunning and madness, the more did he exact from those about him protestations of zeal and faithfulness, the more did he watch the words and actions of his servants, and mark the smallest attempt on their part to restrain or thwart him.

Small wonder was it, then, when Gaston de Brocas stood forth in the sunshine, the King's warrant in his hand, words of good augury upon his lips, and a compact little body of armed men at his back, proclaiming himself the Lord of Saut, and inviting to his service the men who were now trembling before the caprices and cruel cunning of a madman, that they exchanged wondering glances, and spoke in eager whispers together, fearful lest the Navailles should approach from behind ere they were aware of it, and feeling that there was here such a chance of escape from miserable bondage as might never occur again.

And whilst they still hesitated -- for the fear of treachery was never absent from the minds of those bred up in habits and thoughts of treachery -- another wonder happened. Out from the little knot a few paces behind the young knight two more figures pressed forward, and the men-at-arms rubbed their eyes and looked on in silent wonder: for one of the pair was none other than the fairy maiden who had lived so long amongst them, and had endeared herself even to these rude spirits by her grace and sweetness and undefinable charm; the other, that youth with the wonderful eyes and saint-like face who had been captured and borne away to Saut after the battle before St. Jean d'Angely, and whose body they all believed had long ago been lying beneath the sullen waters of the moat, where so many victims of their lord's hatred had found their last resting place.

And as they stared and looked at one another and stared again, a silvery voice was uplifted, and they all held their breath to listen.

"My friends," said the lady, urging her palfrey till she reached Gaston's side, and could feel his hand upon hers, "I have come hither with this noble knight, Sir Gaston de Brocas, because he is my betrothed husband and liege lord, and I have the right to be at his side even in the hour of peril, but also because you all know me; and when I tell you that every word he has spoken is true, I trow ye will believe it. There he stands, the lawful Lord of Saut, and if ye will but own him as your lord, you will find in him a wise, just, and merciful master, who will protect you from the mad fury of yon miserable man whom now ye serve, and will lead you to more glorious feats of arms than any ye have dreamed of before. Hitherto ye have been little better than robbers and outlaws. Have ye no wish for better things than ye have won under the banner of Navailles?"

The men exchanged glances, and visibly wavered. They compared their coarse and stained garments, their rusty arms