Edgar the Ready 10

Edgar the Ready 10

The next two weeks were weeks of delight to Edgar. In all that

appertained to the expedition to Guienne he became Sir John’s

lieutenant; and when, some three days before the time came to march for

the coast, Sir John was called away to London to consult with the Earl

of Derby, Edgar was left in sole charge of the contingent of twenty men

and the ladies of the household who were to accompany them.

 

On the day on which it had been arranged for the march to the coast to

commence Sir John had not returned. Word soon arrived, however, that he

had been detained, and would make the journey direct in the train of the

Earl of Derby. Edgar was to set out at once with the Wolsingham

men-at-arms and ladies, and was to meet him at Dover.

 

Gaily the company mustered. The men-at-arms were all picked men, well

armed, and in the best of spirits at the prospect of the stirring times

before them. The ladies were wild with delight at the change from the

dull round of their life, spent mainly behind the walls of the castle.

The glitter of weapons and the gleam of armour, the bright dresses of

the ladies and the glossy coats of the horses, made a pretty picture

against the sombre, massive walls of the castle, and Edgar, as he slowly

convinced himself that he really was, for the time at any rate, to

command this little force, was dazzled at his wonderful good fortune.

Looking as unconcerned as he could, however, he bade his comrades and

Geoffrey a most cordial farewell, and then gave the word to march. With

deafening fanfare of trumpets the cavalcade wound round the courtyard,

under the frowning portcullis, and across the drawbridge to the sunny

countryside. All seemed to smile in happiness to Edgar as he rode in

the rear, his heart bounding with gladness and hope. Could he have

looked forward a few months and become aware of the strange vicissitudes

and heart-shaking adventures he would have to face in the sunny south of

France, it may be that he would have been less glad and a little more

thoughtful.

 

 

 

 

*CHAPTER VII*

 

*To Guienne*

 

 

"What wouldst do, Sir Edgar?" enquired Beatrice d’Alençon in a tone of

formality, but with a lurking air of mock respect, as Edgar, in riding

towards the front of the column, passed by the steeds of the two ladies.

"What wouldst do an we were to disobey thy commands? Oh, I know thou

art said to be wonderful with thy sword, but though that may impress the

men-at-arms, it is naught to us."

 

Edgar smiled and made as though to pass on without speaking.

 

"Answer me, sir, for I have a mind to go my own way now that we are free

from Sir John and that odious Geoffrey."

 

"Thou wilt not disobey," replied Edgar quietly.

 

"Oho!--that is soon decided. Dost see yon hill, Edgar Wintour? I am

tired of trotting along this dusty lane, and have made up my mind to a

gallop across these fields to its summit. The view is doubtless

charming. Come, Gertrude--let us see who will reach it first."

 

"Maiden, do no such thing," cried Edgar, quickly grasping the young

girl’s bridle as she turned her steed.

 

Quick as lightning Beatrice gave his horse a sharp cut with her whip,

and the animal plunged so violently that Edgar involuntarily let go his

hold.

 

With a ringing laugh of triumph, Beatrice urged on her steed, bounded

across the low bushes which bordered the roadway, and made straight for

the hill.

 

Stung to anger at being tricked, and still more so at sundry sly

chuckles from one or two of the men-at-arms, Edgar gave instant chase

and galloped furiously after. But though he did not spare his steed,

the fugitive was not overtaken until she had reached the summit of the

hill and had drawn rein to admire the prospect.

 

"’Tis fine, is it not, Edgar?" enquired the young girl, flushed and

sparkling with the sharp gallop, as she pretended to admire the prospect

while glancing furtively at the young esquire.

 

"I will not have it, Beatrice," cried Edgar, as he grasped her bridle

with a grip that he did not mean to be shaken off. "What catastrophe

may I not have to report to Sir John if thou goest on so wilfully?"

 

"Release my bridle," commanded Beatrice indignantly. "Thou wilt make me

wish that Aymery or Roland were Sir John’s esquire instead of thee,

Edgar Wintour."

 

"’Twould be strange if thou didst not do so a’ready," replied Edgar

calmly. "I have no claims to their flattering tongues or courtly ways.

But if ever a time of stress cometh mayhap thou wilt then be the less

discontented."

 

"Art going to lead me back to our party with hand on my bridle?" cried

Beatrice haughtily, albeit with a hint of pleading in her voice.

 

"Nay, I will not so humiliate thee. But remember, Beatrice, ours is an

expedition of war, and not a pleasure excursion. Obedience must needs

be given."

 

"Surely thou art taking thy first command over-seriously," replied

Beatrice scoffingly. "What need is there to exact obedience from

Gertrude and me? We are not men-at-arms."

 

"This reason, Beatrice. At our last stop I was informed that the

district was infested with robbers and brigands, who had become much

emboldened since interest had been so centred in the war. What then if

ye had become lost and had fallen into their hands?"

 

"I would that the robbers would capture thee, Edgar Wintour," cried

Beatrice quickly, as she galloped back to Gertrude’s side.

 

Edgar laughed, though somewhat ruefully, and followed her example.

 

The rest of the journey passed without incident. Oftentimes, however,

Edgar found his energies taxed to the utmost to keep the spirits of his

young charges within reasonable bounds. Sometimes they scoffed at him

and sometimes defied him, but with the aid of a half hint that if the

worst came to the worst they would have to ride behind a man-at-arms, he

managed to keep them in fair order. It was with a sigh of relief, so

far as they were concerned, however, that he rode into Dover town.

 

Sir John had arrived and was awaiting their coming at the rendezvous

agreed upon. After the first greetings were over, and the ladies were

as comfortably disposed of as the crowded state of the inns would allow,

he led Edgar aside.

 

"How went the journey hither? Are the ladies well and the men-at-arms

of good hap? I hope thou didst maintain a firm discipline, Edgar."

 

"The ladies are well and the journey passed without mishap. I had no

trouble with the men, though I fear the ladies were inclined to be

somewhat unruly. I hope thou art well also, Sir John?"

 

"Well enough, lad. We embark to-morrow, and all told the Earl of Derby

will muster a force of three thousand men. We shall land at Bayonne,

and probably march on to Bordeaux. That is as much as it behoves me to

tell thee of the expedition at present. There is, however, one other

thing I must acquaint thee of at once, as it is closely concerned, I do

greatly fear, with mine own personal safety. During this expedition, it

is like enough that my life will be in constant jeopardy, not from the

enemy but from one amongst my own side. The truth is, I have an enemy,

and I look to thee, lad, to aid me to frustrate his evil designs."

 

"I will indeed do all I can, Sir John. But who is this dastard who in

time of war would aim at the life of one of his own countrymen? Tell me

his name, I pray thee, so that I may know him and thus be able to guard

thee the more certainly."

 

"’Tis Sir Gervaise de Maupas. He is unknown to thee at present, but

before we are through with this expedition thou art likely to know him

only too well. He is a man of evil character, unless my judgment and

that of some others are at fault, though he well knoweth how to

ingratiate himself into the good opinion of those in authority. He hath

already gained the ear of the earl, and that alone bodeth ill for me.

The cause of our enmity dateth back many years, to the time when his

father was dispossessed of his estates for treason and they were

bestowed upon my father. He hath been trained from childhood to

consider me and mine as his most bitter enemies, and he seemeth to have

learned his lesson well. More than that, we have had high words on two

occasions, and once we have met in single combat. He was worsted, and

since then he hath lost no opportunity of revenging himself most fully.

 

"I have been stabbed in the back on English soil by a miscreant whose

object was certainly not robbery. I was turning as he struck or I

should not be here now. The man escaped, but I caught a fleeting

glimpse of him, and two months later I saw talking with Sir Gervaise a

man who resembled him most uncomfortably. Until now, fortunately for

me, I have never been in the same quarter of the field as Sir Gervaise,

but now that we are thrown together it behoves us to keep watch and

ward--Hist! This is he, Edgar."

 

Startled by the sudden change of tone, Edgar glanced quickly in the

direction in which Sir John was looking and saw a tall and somewhat

gaunt knight sauntering easily towards them. He was dressed in silks in

the height of fashion and made a brave show, though the __EXPRESSION__ of

his strongly marked features seemed to Edgar to consort but ill with his

dainty attire. As he came closer, his evil __EXPRESSION__ intensified and

became so ugly and insolent a scowl that Edgar saw Sir John’s hand steal

involuntarily to his sword hilt. Noticing the action, Sir Gervaise’s

face relaxed into a smile hardly less forbidding than his frown, as he

snarled:

 

"Never fear, thou shalt soon have opportunity an thou dost desire it."

 

"I do desire it, De Maupas. Thine insolence alone merits chastisement,

but besides and above all that there is a matter between us that can

never be wiped away until thou hast bit the dust."

 

"Thou art right, Sir John. The deeds of thy grasping forbears stand

between us, and one of us, I swear, shall be humiliated before many months are past."