The White Company
where the great lords and barons of Leon and Castile displayed their
standards, while over the white roofs, as far as eye could reach, the
waving of ancients, pavons, pensils, and banderoles, with flash of gold
and glow of colors, proclaimed that all the chivalry of Iberia were
mustered in the plain beneath them. Far off, in the centre of the camp,
a huge palace of red and white silk, with the royal arms of Castile
waiving from the summit, announced that the gallant Henry lay there in
the midst of his warriors.
As the English adventurers, peeping out from behind their brushwood
screen, looked down upon this wondrous sight they could see that the
vast army in front of them was already afoot. The first pink light of
the rising sun glittered upon the steel caps and breastplates of dense
masses of slingers and of crossbowmen, who drilled and marched in the
spaces which had been left for their exercise. A thousand columns of
smoke reeked up into the pure morning air where the faggots were piled
and the camp-kettles already simmering. In the open plain clouds of
light horse galloped and swooped with swaying bodies and waving
javelins, after the fashion which the Spanish had adopted from their
Moorish enemies. All along by the sedgy banks of the rivers long lines
of pages led their masters' chargers down to water, while the knights
themselves lounged in gayly-dressed groups about the doors of their
pavilions, or rode out, with their falcons upon their wrists and their
greyhounds behind them, in quest of quail or of leveret.
“By my hilt! mon gar.!” whispered Aylward to Alleyne, as the young
squire stood with parted lips and wondering eyes, gazing down at the
novel scene before him, “we have been seeking them all night, but now
that we have found them I know not what we are to do with them.”
“You say sooth, Samkin,” quoth old Johnston. “I would that we were upon
the far side of Ebro again, for there is neither honor nor profit to be
gained here. What say you, Simon?”
“By the rood!” cried the fierce man-at-arms, “I will see the color of
their blood ere I turn my mare's head for the mountains. Am I a child,
that I should ride for three days and nought but words at the end of
it?”
“Well said, my sweet honeysuckle!” cried Hordle John. “I am with you,
like hilt to blade. Could I but lay hands upon one of those gay prancers
yonder, I doubt not that I should have ransom enough from him to buy my
mother a new cow.”
“A cow!” said Aylward. “Say rather ten acres and a homestead on the
banks of Avon.”
“Say you so? Then, by our Lady! here is for yonder one in the red
jerkin!”
He was about to push recklessly forward into the open, when Sir Nigel
himself darted in front of him, with his hand upon his breast.
“Back!” said he. “Our time is not yet come, and we must lie here until
evening. Throw off your jacks and headpieces, least their eyes catch the
shine, and tether the horses among the rocks.”
The order was swiftly obeyed, and in ten minutes the archers were
stretched along by the side of the brook, munching the bread and the
bacon which they had brought in their bags, and craning their necks to
watch the ever-changing scene beneath them. Very quiet and still they
lay, save for a muttered jest or whispered order, for twice during the
long morning they heard bugle-calls from amid the hills on either side
of them, which showed that they had thrust themselves in between the
outposts of the enemy. The leaders sat amongst the box-wood, and took
counsel together as to what they should do; while from below there
surged up the buzz of voices, the shouting, the neighing of horses, and
all the uproar of a great camp.
“What boots it to wait?” said Sir William Felton. “Let us ride down upon
their camp ere they discover us.”
“And so say I,” cried the Scottish earl; “for they do not know that
there is any enemy within thirty long leagues of them.”
“For my part,” said Sir Simon Burley, “I think that it is madness, for
you cannot hope to rout this great army; and where are you to go and
what are you to do when they have turned upon you? How say you, Sir
Oliver Buttesthorn?”
“By the apple of Eve!” cried the fat knight, “it appears to me that
this wind brings a very savory smell of garlic and of onions from their
cooking-kettles. I am in favor of riding down upon them at once, if my
old friend and comrade here is of the same mind.”
“Nay,” said Sir Nigel, “I have a plan by which we may attempt some small
deed upon them, and yet, by the help of God, may be able to draw off
again; which, as Sir Simon Burley hath said, would be scarce possible in
any other way.”
“How then, Sir Nigel?” asked several voices.
“We shall lie here all day; for amid this brushwood it is ill for them
to see us. Then when evening comes we shall sally out upon them and see
if we may not gain some honorable advancement from them.”
“But why then rather than now?”
“Because we shall have nightfall to cover us when we draw off, so that
we may make our way back through the mountains. I would station a score
of archers here in the pass, with all our pennons jutting forth from the
rocks, and as many nakirs and drums and bugles as we have with us, so
that those who follow us in the fading light may think that the whole
army of the prince is upon them, and fear to go further. What think you
of my plan, Sir Simon?”
“By my troth! I think very well of it,” cried the prudent old commander.
“If four hundred men must needs run a tilt against sixty thousand, I
cannot see how they can do it better or more safely.”
“And so say I,” cried Felton, heartily. “But I wish the day were over,
for it will be an ill thing for us if they chance to light upon us.”
The words were scarce out of his mouth when there came a clatter of
loose stones, the sharp clink of trotting hoofs, and a dark-faced
cavalier, mounted upon a white horse, burst through the bushes and rode
swiftly down the valley from the end which was farthest from the Spanish
camp. Lightly armed, with his vizor open and a hawk perched upon his
left wrist, he looked about him with the careless air of a man who is
bent wholly upon pleasure, and unconscious of the possibility of danger.
Suddenly, however, his eyes lit upon the fierce faces which glared out
at him from the brushwood. With a cry of terror, he thrust his spurs
into his horse's sides and dashed for the narrow opening of the gorge.
For a moment it seemed as though he would have reached it, for he had
trampled over or dashed aside the archers who threw themselves in his
way; but Hordle John seized him by the foot in his grasp of iron and
dragged him from the saddle, while two others caught the frightened
horse.
“Ho, ho!” roared the great archer. “How many cows wilt buy my mother, if
I set thee free?”
“Hush that bull's bellowing!” cried Sir Nigel impatiently. “Bring the
man here. By St. Paul! it is not the first time that we have met; for,
if I mistake not, it is Don Diego Alvarez, who was once at the prince's
court.”
“It is indeed I,” said the Spanish knight, speaking in the French
tongue, “and I pray you to pass your sword through my heart, for how can
I live--I, a caballero of Castile--after being dragged from my horse by
the base hands of a common archer?”
“Fret not for that,” answered Sir Nigel. “For, in sooth, had he not
pulled you down, a dozen cloth-yard shafts had crossed each other in
your body.”
“By St. James! it were better so than to be polluted by his touch,”
answered the Spaniard, with his black eyes sparkling with rage and
hatred. “I trust that I am now the prisoner of some honorable knight or
gentleman.”
“You are the prisoner of the man who took you, Sir Diego,” answered Sir
Nigel. “And I may tell you that better men than either you or I have
found themselves before now prisoners in the hands of archers of
England.”
“What ransom, then, does he demand?” asked the Spaniard.
Big John scratched his red head and grinned in high delight when the
question was propounded to him. “Tell him,” said he, “that I shall have
ten cows and a bull too, if it be but a little one. Also a dress of
blue sendall for mother and a red one for Joan; with five acres of
pasture-land, two scythes, and a fine new grindstone. Likewise a small
house, with stalls for the cows, and thirty-six gallons of beer for the
thirsty weather.”
“Tut, tut!” cried Sir Nigel, laughing. “All these things may be had for
money; and I think, Don Diego, that five thousand crowns is not too much
for so renowned a knight.”
“It shall be duly paid him.”
“For some days we must keep you with us; and I must crave leave also to
use your shield, your armor, and your horse.”
“My harness is yours by the law of arms,” said the Spaniard, gloomily.
“I do but ask the loan of it. I have need of it this day, but it shall
be duly returned to you. Set guards, Aylward, with arrow on string, at
either end of the pass; for it may happen that some other cavaliers may
visit us ere the time be come.” All day the little band of Englishmen
lay in the sheltered gorge, looking down upon the vast host of their
unconscious enemies. Shortly after mid-day, a great uproar of shouting
and cheering broke out in the camp, with mustering of men and calling of
bugles. Clambering up among the rocks, the companions saw a long rolling
cloud of dust along the whole eastern sky-line, with the glint of spears
and the flutter of pennons, which announced the approach of a large body
of cavalry. For a moment a wild hope came upon them that perhaps the
prince had moved more swiftly than had been planned, that he had crossed
the Ebro, and that this was his vanguard sweeping to the attack.
“Surely I see the red pile of Chandos at the head of yonder squadron!”
cried Sir Richard Causton, shading his eyes with his hand.
“Not so,” answered Sir Simon Burley, who had watched the approaching
host with a darkening face. “It is even as I feared. That is the double
eagle of Du Guesclin.”
“You say very truly,” cried the Earl of Angus. “These are the levies of
France, for I can see the ensigns of the Marshal d'Andreghen, with
that of the Lord of Antoing and of Briseuil, and of many another from
Brittany and Anjou.”
“By St. Paul! I am very glad of it,” said Sir Nigel. “Of these Spaniards
I know nothing; but the French are very worthy gentlemen, and will do
what they can for our advancement.”
“There are at the least four thousand of them, and all men-at-arms,”
cried Sir William Felton. “See, there is Bertrand himself, beside his
banner, and there is King Henry, who rides to welcome him. Now they all
turn and come into the camp together.”
As he spoke, the vast throng of Spaniards and of Frenchmen trooped
across the plain, with brandished arms and tossing banners. All day long
the sound of revelry and of rejoicing from the crowded camp swelled up
to the ears of the Englishmen, and they could see the soldiers of the
two nations throwing themselves into each other's arms and dancing
hand-in-hand round the blazing fires. The sun had sunk behind a
cloud-bank in the west before Sir Nigel at last gave word that the men
should resume their arms and have their horses ready. He had himself
thrown off his armor, and had dressed himself from head to foot in the
harness of the captured Spaniard.
“Sir William,” said he, “it is my intention to attempt a small deed, and
I ask you therefore that you will lead this outfall upon the camp. For
me, I will ride into their camp with my squire and two archers. I pray
you to watch me, and to ride forth when I am come among the tents. You
will leave twenty men behind here, as we planned this morning, and you
will ride back here after you have ventured as far as seems good to
you.”
“I will do as you order, Nigel; but what is it that you propose to do?”