Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard by Eleanor Farjeon (best new books to read txt) 📕

The seven said in a breath, "A kiss!" and the five laughed louder than ever.

Then Maudlin said, "For so great an honor as victory, I should feel ashamed to bestow a thing of such little worth."

"Do you call that thing a little worth," said one, "which to us were more than a star plucked out of heaven?"

"The thing, it is true," said Maudlin, "has two values. Those who are over-eager make it a thing of naught, those from whom it is hard-won render it priceless. But, sirs, you are all too eager, I could scatter you baubles by the hour and leave you still desiring. But if ever I wooed reluctance to receive at last my solitary favor, I should know I was bestowing a jewel."

"When did Maudlin ever meet reluctance?" sighed one, the youngest.

A long shadow fell upon her where she lay in the grass, and she looked up to see the great form of Harding passing at a little distance.

"Who is that?" said she.

"It must be he they call the Red Smith," said Damarel idly.

"He looks a rough, silent creature," remarked Amelys. And Clarimond added in loud and insolent tones, "He knows little enough of kissings, I would wager this clasp."

"It's one I've a fancy for," said young Queen Maudlin. "Red Smith!" called she.

Harding turned at the sweet sound of her voice, and came and stood beside her among the group of girls and knights.

"Have you come from my castle?" said she, smiling up at him with her dawn-blue eyes.

"Ay," he answered.

"What drew you there, big man? My serving-wench?"

The Red Smith stared down at her light alluring loveliness. "Serving-wenches do not draw me."

"What metal then? Gold?" Maudlin tossed him a yellow disc from her purse. He let it fall and lie.

"No, nor gold." His eyes traveled over her gleaming locks. "The things you name are too cheap," said he.

Maudlin smiled a little and raised herself, till she stood, fair and slender, as high as his shoulder.

"What thing draws you, Red Smith?"

"Steel." And he showed her a fine sword-blade, lacking its hilt. "I was sent for to mend this against the morrow."

"I know that blade," said Maudlin, "it was snapped in my cause. Have you the hilt too?"

"In my pouch," said Harding, his hand upon it.

Hers touched his fingers delicately. "I will see it."

He brushed her hand aside and unbuttoned his pouch; but as he drew out the hilt of the broken sword, she caught a glimpse of that within which held her startled gaze.

"What jewels are those?" she asked quickly.

"Old relics," Harding said with sudden gruffness.

"Show them to me!"

Reluctantly he obeyed, and brought forth a ring, a circlet, and a girdle of surpassing workmanship, wrought in gold thick-crusted with emeralds. A cry of wonder went up from all the maidens.

"There's something else," said Maudlin; and without waiting thrust her hand into the bottom of the pouch and drew out a mesh of silver. It was so fine that it could be held and hidden in her two hands; yet when it fell apart it was a garment, as supple as rich silk. The four maids touched it softly and looked their longings.

"Are these your handicraft?" said Maudlin.

"Mine?" Harding uttered a short laugh. "Not I or any man can make such things."

"You are right," said Maudlin. "Wayland's self might acknowledge them. Smith, I will buy them of you."

"You cannot give me my price."

"Gold I know does not tempt you." She smiled and came close beside him.

"Then do not offer it."

"Shall it be steel?"

Harding's eyes swept her flower-like beauty. "Not from Queen Maudlin."

"True. My bid is costlier."

"Name it."

"A kiss from my mouth."

At the sound of his laughter the rose flowed into her cheek.

"What, a bauble for my jewel, too-eager lady?" he said harshly. "Do the women of this land hold themselves so light? In mine men carve their kisses with the sword. Hark ye, young Queen! set a better value on that red mouth if you'd continue to have it valued."

"I could have you whipped for this," said Maudlin.

"I do not think so," Harding answered, and stepped down the river- bank into his waiting boat.

"I keep my clasp," said Clarimond.

Seven men sprang hotly to their feet. "What's your will, Queen?"

"Nothing," said Maudlin slowly, as she watched him row over the water. "Let the smith go. This test was between him and me and no man's business else. Well, he is of a temper to come through fire unmelted." She flashed a smile upon the seven that made them tremble. "But he is a mannerless churl, we will not think of him. Which among YOU would spurn my kiss?" She offered her mouth in turn, and seven flames passed over its scarlet. Maudlin laughed a little and beckoned her watching maids. "Well!" she said, taking the path to the castle, "He that had had strength to refuse me might have worn my favor to-morrow and for ever."

And meanwhile by the further river-bank came Rosalind, with mushrooms in her skirt. And as she walked by the water in the evening she looked across to her lost castle-walls, and touched the pennies in her pouch and dreamed, while the sun dressed the running flood in his royalest colors.

"Linen and purple and scarlet and gold," mused she; "and so I might sit there to-morrow among the rest. But linen and purple!" she said in scorn, "what should they profit my fathers' house? It is no silken daughter we lack, but a son of steel."

And as she pondered a shadow crossed her, and out of his boat stepped Harding, new from his encounter with the Queen. He did not glance at her nor she at him; but the gleam of the broken weapon he carried cut for a single instant across her sight, and her hands hungered for it.

"A sword!" thought she. "Ay, but an arm to wield the sword. Nay, if I had the sword it may be I could find an arm to wield it." She dropped her chin on her