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WINNING HIS SPURS

A Tale of the Crusades.

BY G. A. HENTY

1895

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. THE OUTLAWS

CHAPTER II. A RESCUE

CHAPTER III. THE CAPTURE OF WORTHAM HOLD

CHAPTER IV. THE CRUSADES

CHAPTER V. PREPARATIONS

CHAPTER VI. THE LISTS

CHAPTER VII. REVENGE

CHAPTER VIII. THE ATTACK

CHAPTER IX. THE PRINCESS BERENGARIA

CHAPTER X. PIRATES

CHAPTER XI. IN THE HOLY LAND

CHAPTER XII. THE ACCOLADE

CHAPTER XIII. IN THE HANDS OF THE SARACENS

CHAPTER XIV. AN EFFORT FOR FREEDOM

CHAPTER XV. A HERMIT'S TALE

CHAPTER XVI. A FIGHT OF HEROES

CHAPTER XVII. AN ALFINE STORM

CHAPTER XVIII. SENTENCED TO DEATH

CHAPTER XIX. DRESDEN

CHAPTER XX. UNDER THE GREENWOOD

CHAPTER XXI. THE ATTEMPT ON THE CONVENT

CHAPTER XXII. A DASTARDLY STRATAGEM

CHAPTER XXIII. THE FALSE AND PERJURED KNIGHT

CHAPTER XXIV. THE SIEGE OF EVESHAM CASTLE

CHAPTER XXV. IN SEARCH OF THE KING

CHAPTER XXVI. KING RICHARD'S RETURN TO ENGLAND

WINNING HIS SPURS.

CHAPTER I.

THE OUTLAWS.

It was a bright morning in the month of August, when a lad of some

fifteen years of age, sitting on a low wall, watched party after party of

armed men riding up to the castle of the Earl of Evesham. A casual

observer glancing at his curling hair and bright open face, as also at

the fashion of his dress, would at once have assigned to him a purely

Saxon origin; but a keener eye would have detected signs that Norman

blood ran also in his veins, for his figure was lither and lighter, his

features more straightly and shapely cut, than was common among Saxons.

His dress consisted of a tight-fitting jerkin, descending nearly to his

knees. The material was a light-blue cloth, while over his shoulder hung

a short cloak of a darker hue. His cap was of Saxon fashion, and he wore

on one side a little plume of a heron. In a somewhat costly belt hung a

light short sword, while across his knees lay a crossbow, in itself

almost a sure sign of its bearer being of other than Saxon blood. The boy

looked anxiously as party after party rode past towards the castle.

"I would give something," he said, "to know what wind blows these knaves

here. From every petty castle in the Earl's feu the retainers seem

hurrying here. Is he bent, I wonder, on settling once and for all his

quarrels with the Baton of Wortham? or can he be intending to make a

clear sweep of the woods? Ah! here comes my gossip Hubert; he may tell me

the meaning of this gathering."

Leaping to his feet, the speaker started at a brisk walk to meet a

jovial-looking personage coming down from the direction of the castle.

The new comer was dressed in the attire of a falconer, and two dogs

followed at his heels.

"Ah, Master Cuthbert," he said, "what brings you so near to the castle?

It is not often that you favour us with your presence."

"I am happier in the woods, as you well know, and was on my way thither

but now, when I paused at the sight of all these troopers flocking in to

Evesham. What enterprise has Sir Walter on hand now, think you?"

"The earl keeps his own counsel," said the falconer, "but methinks a

shrewd guess might be made at the purport of the gathering. It was but

three days since that his foresters were beaten back by the landless

men, whom they caught in the very act of cutting up a fat buck. As thou

knowest, my lord though easy and well-disposed to all, and not fond of

harassing and driving the people as are many of his neighbours, is yet

to the full as fanatical anent his forest privileges as the worst of

them. They tell me that when the news came in of the poor figure that

his foresters cut with broken bows and draggled plumes--for the varlets

had soused them in a pond of not over savoury water--he swore a great

oath that he would clear the forest of the bands. It may be, indeed,

that this gathering is for the purpose of falling in force upon that

evil-disposed and most treacherous baron, Sir John of Wortham, who has

already begun to harry some of the outlying lands, and has driven off, I

hear, many heads of cattle. It is a quarrel which will have to be fought

out sooner or later, and the sooner the better, say I. Although I am no

man of war, and love looking after my falcons or giving food to my dogs

far more than exchanging hard blows, yet would I gladly don the buff and

steel coat to aid in levelling the keep of that robber and tyrant, Sir

John of Wortham."

"Thanks, good Hubert," said the lad. "I must not stand gossiping here.

The news you have told me, as you know, touches me closely, for I would

not that harm should come to the forest men."

"Let it not out, I beseech thee, Cuthbert, that the news came from me,

for temperate as Sir Walter is at most times, he would, methinks, give

me short shift did he know that the wagging of my tongue might have

given warning through which the outlaws of the Chase should slip through

his fingers."

"Fear not, Hubert; I can be mum when the occasion needs. Can you tell me

farther, when the bands now gathering are likely to set forth?"

"In brief breathing space," the falconer replied. "Those who first

arrived I left swilling beer, and devouring pies and other provisions

cooked for them last night, and from what I hear, they will set forth as

soon as the last comer has arrived. Whichever be their quarry, they will

try to fall upon it before the news of their arrival is bruited abroad."

With a wave of his hand to the falconer the boy started. Leaving the

road, and striking across the slightly undulated country dotted here

and there by groups of trees, the lad ran at a brisk trot, without

stopping to halt or breathe, until after half an hour's run he arrived

at the entrance of a building, whose aspect proclaimed it to be the

abode of a Saxon franklin of some importance. It would not be called a

castle, but was rather a fortified house, with a few windows looking

without, and surrounded by a moat crossed by a drawbridge, and capable

of sustaining anything short of a real attack. Erstwood had but lately

passed into Norman hands, and was indeed at present owned by a Saxon.

Sir William de Lance, the father of the lad who is now entering its

portals, was a friend and follower of the Earl of Evesham; and soon

after his lord had married Gweneth the heiress of all these fair

lands--given to him by the will of the king, to whom by the death of

her father she became a ward--Sir William had married Editha, the

daughter and heiress of the franklin of Erstwood, a cousin and dear

friend of the new Countess of Evesham.

In neither couple could the marriage at first have been called one of

inclination on the part of the ladies, but love came after marriage.

Although the knights and barons of the Norman invasion would, no doubt,

be considered rude and rough in these days of broadcloth and

civilization, yet their manners were gentle and polished by the side of

those of the rough though kindly Saxon franklins; and although the Saxon

maids were doubtless as patriotic as their fathers and mothers, yet the

female mind is greatly led by gentle manners and courteous address. Thus

then, when bidden or forced to give their hands to the Norman knights,

they speedily accepted their lot, and for the most part grew contented

and happy enough. In their changed circumstances it was pleasanter to

ride by the side of their Norman husbands, surrounded by a gay cavalcade,

to hawk and to hunt, than to discharge the quiet duties of mistress of a

Saxon farm-house. In many cases, of course, their lot was rendered

wretched by the violence and brutality of their lords; but in the

majority they were well satisfied with their lot, and these mixed

marriages did more to bring the peoples together and weld them in one,

than all the laws and decrees of the Norman sovereigns.

This had certainly been the case with Editha, whose marriage with Sir

William had been one of the greatest happiness. She had lost him, three

years before the story begins, fighting in Normandy, in one of the

innumerable wars in which our first Norman kings were constantly

involved. On entering the gates of Erstwood, Cuthbert had rushed hastily

to the room where his mother was sitting with three or four of her

maidens, engaged in work.

"I want to speak to you at once, mother," he said.

"What is it now, my son?" said his mother, who was still young and very

comely. Waving her hand to the girls, they left her.

"Mother," he said, when they were alone, "I fear me that Sir Walter is

about to make a great raid upon the outlaws. Armed men have been coming

in all the morning from the castles round, and if it be not against the

Baron de Wortham that these preparations are intended, and methinks it is

not, it must needs be against the landless men."

"What would you do, Cuthbert?" his mother asked anxiously. "It will not

do for you to be found meddling in these matters. At present you stand

well in the favour of the Earl, who loves you for the sake of his

wife, to whom you are kin, and of your father, who did him good

liegeman's service."

"But, mother, I have many friends in the wood. There is Cnut, their

chief, your own first cousin, and many others of our friends, all

good men and true, though forced by the cruel Norman laws to refuge

in the woods."

"What would you do?" again his mother asked.

"I would take Ronald my pony and ride to warn them of the danger that

threatens."

"You had best go on foot, my son. Doubtless men have been set to see that

none from the Saxon homesteads carry the warning to the woods. The

distance is not beyond your reach, for you have often wandered there, and

on foot you can evade the eye of the watchers; but one thing, my son, you

must promise, and that is, that in no case, should the Earl and his bands

meet with the outlaws, will you take part in any fray or struggle."

"That will I willingly, mother," he said. "I have no cause for offence

against the castle or the forest, and my blood and my kin are with both.

I would fain save shedding of blood in a quarrel like this. I hope that

the time may come when Saxon and Norman may fight side by side, and I

maybe there to see."

A few minutes later, having changed his blue doublet for one of more

sober and less noticeable colour, Cuthbert started for the great forest,

which then stretched to within a mile of Erstwood. In those days a large

part of the country was covered with forest, and the policy of the

Normans in preserving these woods for the chase, tended to prevent the

increase of cultivation.

The farms and cultivated lands were all held by Saxons, who although

nominally handed over to the nobles to whom William and his successors

had given the fiefs, saw but little of their Norman masters. These stood,

indeed, much in the position in which landlords stand to their tenants,

payment being made, for the most part, in produce. At the edge of the

wood the trees grew comparatively far apart, but as Cuthbert proceeded

farther into its recesses, the trees in the virgin forest stood thick and

close together. Here and there open glades ran across each other, and in

these his sharp eye, accustomed to the forest, could often see the stags

starting away at the sound of his footsteps.

It was a full hour's journey before Cuthbert reached the point for

which he was bound. Here, in an open space, probably cleared by a storm

ages before, and overshadowed by giant trees, was a group of men of all

ages and appearances. Some were occupied in stripping the skin off a

buck which hung from the bough of one of the trees. Others were

roasting portions of the carcass of another deer. A few sat apart, some

talking, others busy in making arrows, while a few lay asleep on the

greensward. As Cuthbert entered the clearing, several of the party rose

to their feet.

"Ah, Cuthbert," shouted a man of almost gigantic stature, who appeared to

be one of the leaders of the party, "what brings you here, lad, so early?

You are not wont to visit us till even, when you can lay your crossbow at

a stag by moonlight."

"No, no, Cousin Cnut," Cuthbert said, "thou canst not say that I have

ever broken the forest laws, though I have looked on often and often,

whilst you have done so."

"The abettor is as bad as the thief," laughed Cnut, "and if the foresters

caught us in the act, I wot they would make but little difference whether

it was the shaft of my longbow or the quarrel from thy crossbow which

brought down the quarry. But again, lad, why comest thou here? for I see

by the sweat on your face and by the heaving of your sides that you have

run fast and far."

"I have, Cnut; I have not once stopped for breathing since I left

Erstwood. I have come to warn you of danger. The earl is preparing

for a raid."

Cnut laughed somewhat disdainfully.

"He has raided here before, and I trow has carried off no game. The

landless men of the forest can hold their own against a handful of Norman

knights and retainers in their own home."

"Ay," said Cuthbert, "but this will be no common raid. This morning bands

from all the holds within miles round are riding in, and at least 500

men-at-arms are likely to do chase today."

"Is it so?" said Cnut, while exclamations of surprise, but not of

apprehension, broke from those standing round. "If that be so, lad, you

have done us good service indeed. With fair warning we can slip through

the fingers of ten times 500 men, but if they came upon us unawares, and

hemmed us in it would fare but badly with us, though we should, I doubt

not give a good account of them before their battle-axes and maces ended