The Messenger of the Black Prince 23

The Messenger of the Black Prince 23

“No, you didn’t,” he contradicted, “not me.”

 

“Why, your clothes——” I began.

 

He waved his finger before my face.

 

“Ah,” he remarked. “There’s where you are jumping at conclusions. It’s a

lesson you’ll have to learn, and you might as well begin now—you should

never judge a man by his clothes.”

 

I didn’t know what to say.

 

“Why did you do this?” I demanded finally.

 

“To save your life—and mine,” he answered blandly. “There were too many

of them in the woods.”

 

“Don’t you realize that this will be the end of me?”

 

“No,” he replied, “it’s only the beginning.”

 

“Where will they take me?” I asked.

 

“Down the valley of the Loire. Keep your ears and eyes open,” he said

with all seriousness.

 

“—and what about you?”

 

“I’m going back,” he replied. “The country’s too dangerous.”

 

“Will you tell my brother never to give up the estates—no matter what

happens?” I asked, “—even if I’m a prisoner in De Marsac’s castle for

life?”

 

“It won’t be necessary,” he said. “You’ll never see De Marsac’s castle.”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XVII

ON THE HIGHWAY

 

 

That was a long night. I fell asleep with my head in my arms over the

table with the scrivener opposite me. De Marsac took no chances of my

escape. He left four men in the room, two to stand guard in turn while

the others snatched a wink of sleep. After he had cleared the plates and

dishes away the landlord disappeared. Once in a while I awoke and looked

around. But this time I was sure there would be no rescue, no helping

hand.

 

The first streaks of dawn were struggling in at the little window when I

got to my feet. My muscles were as sore as if I had been dragged a mile

through a mire. I yawned and stretched myself and listened for a moment

to the birds chirping and quarreling in the ivy that covered the outer

walls of the inn.

 

One of my guards brought breakfast for us all. It was then that I

observed for the first that my companion, the scrivener, was nowhere to

be seen. He must have slipped out in the dead of night, unnoticed. The

men looked at each other in question, puzzled, but I smiled to myself. I

knew it was one of those little tricks that he so dearly loved to play.

 

We went once again out on the highway. The sun was up big and red. Three

of the men remained at the inn, but the fourth, a fellow called Pierre,

was to lead me far down the valley of the Loire. For days I was to be

his prisoner. I was to eat and sleep with him. He was to be all the

companion I was to have, so I determined I would make the best of it and

be on as friendly a footing as I could.

 

But I found from the first that he was the surliest and coarsest man

alive. During the afternoon, he scarcely uttered a word, but went on

grumbling and muttering to himself. His face wore a perpetual scowl. He

kicked viciously at the stones along the road as if they were actually

his enemies. He complained of the long journey ahead of us.

 

“One man gets the money,” he said under his breath. “Another does the

work.”

 

“You don’t have to go,” I said. “If you say the word, I’ll leave you.”

 

He shot a look at me that was enough to kill me.

 

“Try it,” he growled. And his jaws came together with a snap.

 

After that I shrank back into my shell. I knew I was in company with a

savage. At the slightest sign of trifling, I was convinced, he would

stick a dagger into my heart and leave me on the road to die.

 

At noon we halted in the shade of the trees along the side of the

highway. He took from his shoulder a packet which he had brought from

the inn. In it were a lump of cheese and a length of hard bread. With as

much deliberation as he could show, he took a dagger from his coat and

wiped the blade two or three times over the knees of his trousers. Then

he cut the cheese into squares and tore the bread into pieces with his

hands. As though I were only an animal to be fed, he tossed them to me

through the air.

 

The first piece flew past me and fell into the dirt. The second landed

at my feet. Another caught me in the chest and tumbled in between my

folded hands. I was hungry, of course, but the manner of the man

sickened me. So I sat there glaring into his face.

 

He fell to with the appetite of a bear. He stuffed one lump after

another between his teeth and shoved them into his mouth with his thumb.

He gulped to swallow and that so hard that I thought he would choke.

When he had eaten twice as much as an ordinary man he rose and threw

what remained into my lap.

 

“You should starve,” he said, “—you spy!”

 

“I am no spy,” I declared.

 

He made no answer but gave me a look that was filled with hate.

 

I picked up the pieces that were clean and began to eat slowly. Thoughts

of my home and of the comfort I had there started to run through my

mind. A burning anger rose within me that I should be treated thus by a

fellow who was no equal of mine—who should have been glad to run at my

beck and call.

 

Without a word of warning he came over and caught me by the collar. With

a swift jerk he landed me on my feet. I was amazed at the suddenness of

it and the enormous strength of the man. I was sure that he could have

held me in the air with his outstretched arm as easily as I could have

held a bundle of straw.

 

We were on the road again, both going along in silence. During the

afternoon, I noticed small groups of men, some clad as ordinary

soldiers, some in finer dress like captains and officers, others on

horseback with armor and coats of mail. I had seen the like before in

the village at home to be sure, for in my day there was always war in

this or that part of France to attract the minds of men. But what struck

me was that these were all going in the same direction (towards the

west); they all seemed bent on the same errand; and they were so

numerous that I was set wondering.

 

That night we found no place in an inn. The common room was crowded to

the doors with swashbuckling soldiers of every kind. Loud talk and

boasting filled the air, together with the clanking of swords, the

thumping of heavy boots on the floor, the clamoring of men hungry for

their supper, quarrels over this or that and even blows struck and

returned.

 

We were lucky to get any food at all, but the worst of it all was that

we were forced to sleep in the open. Pierre found a spot in the shelter

of the barn where we would be protected from the wind. He brought an

armful of straw and scattered it over the ground. Then he took from his

pockets two strands of rope and bade me lie down. He tied one strand

firmly about my right wrist, the other about my left. The ends he drew

apart in opposite directions, tying one to a post at the corner of the

barn, the other he fastened on the other side of me to a stone that was

imbedded in the soil.

 

It was as though I was stretched out like a cross. I could move my hands

outwards as far as I liked. But when I drew them together as far as the

ropes allowed, they remained more than a foot apart. If I rolled over on

my side the one arm was behind me and the other in front. If I had tried

to get to my feet, I wouldn’t have been halfway up before I would have

been forced down again.

 

It was thus I passed the night. You can imagine that I slept only in

fits and starts, for as soon as I was in a doze I was sure to stir and

the tautness of the ropes, with the pain awakened me.

 

The day came as a relief. My captor let me lie until he brought me my

breakfast. Then he loosed my bonds. After we had eaten we started out on

the journey that was becoming irksome and even a torment.

 

That day passed about the same as the first. We toiled along the road

for the most part in gloomy silence. The soldiers were pouring in

thicker and thicker. Sometimes as many as two hundred of them in a

single body passed us so that we were forced to leave the highway and

stand on the banks to let them go by.

 

At another time later on a great lord from the east swept along. He was

dressed in shining armor from head to heel. In his helmet waved a plume

of feathers dyed red and white and a broadsword hung in its glittering

scabbard by his side. In his train were at least five hundred followers,

some of them of almost as high degree as he; others with long lances

rode directly behind him, while further back a troop of archers completed the array.