CHAPTER V
GREY DICK SHOWS HIS ARCHERY
So sorely did the horses need rest, that Hugh and his people could not
ride from London till the following morning, and evening was closing
in before they found themselves drawing near the gate of Windsor
Castle. In the market-place of the little town they pulled rein, while
one of them went to search for a good inn at which they might lie, for
the place seemed to be very full of people. Suddenly, as they stood
there, wondering at the mighty, new-built keep which towered above
them, a trumpet was blown and from round a corner appeared a gay
procession of noble-looking men, and with them some ladies, who
carried hawk on wrist, all mounted on splendid horses.
Now, the people who had gathered to study the strangers or tout for
their custom, took off their bonnets and bent low, saying: "The King!
The King! God save him!"
"Which is his Grace?" asked Hugh of one of them, whereon the man
pointed to a royal-eyed and bearded knight, still in early middle
life, who rode toward him, talking to a gallant youth at his side.
Now a thought came into Hugh's mind that the present time is always
the best time to strike. Leaping from his horse, he advanced bowing,
and stood in the pathway of the King. Seeing this, two of the fine
Court lords spurred their horses and rode straight at him, thinking to
drive him back. But he held his ground, for their insolence made him
angry, and, catching the bridle of one of the horses, threw it on its
haunches so sharply that the knight who rode it rolled from his saddle
into the mire, whereupon every one laughed. In a moment he was on his
feet again, and shouting:
"Out of the road, jackanapes, dressed in your grandfather's mail,
unless you would stop there in the stocks. Do you know whose path you
block?"
"That of his Grace," answered Hugh, "for whom I have a message that he
will be glad to hear, and, popinjay, this for yourself; were it not
for his presence it is you who should stop upon the road till you were
carried thence."
Now, noting this disturbance, the King spoke to the youth at his side,
who came forward and said, in a pleasant, courteous voice, addressing
Hugh:
"Sir, why do you make trouble in these streets, and tumble the good
Sir Ambrose Lacey from his horse with such scant ceremony?"
"Sir," answered Hugh, "because the good Sir Ambrose tried to ride his
horse over me for no offence save that I would deliver a message to
his Grace, which he will wish to hear."
"This is scarcely a time for the giving of messages," replied the
young man, "but what is your name, and who sends the message? I am the
Prince Edward," he added modestly, "so you may speak to me without
fear."
"My name is Hugh de Cressi, your Highness, and I am sent by the
Reverend Father Sir Andrew Arnold, of Dunwich, and have followed his
Grace from Westminster, whither I and my men rode first."
Now, the Prince went to the King and spoke to him, and, returning
presently, said:
"My father says that he knows both the names you give well enough and
holds them dear. He bids that you and your people should follow him to
the castle, where you will be entertained, with your horses. Sir
Ambrose," he added, "the King desires that you should forget your
choler, since he saw what passed, and deems that this young stranger
did well to check your horse. Follow on, Hugh de Cressi, the officers
will show you where you and your men may lodge."
So Hugh obeyed, and rode with the rest of the train and his folks
through the gates of Windsor Castle. Nor did they do so unobserved,
since many of the Court had no love for Sir Ambrose, and were glad to
see him tumbled in the mire.
After they had stabled their beasts, as Hugh, followed by Grey Dick,
was advancing toward a hall which he was told that he might enter, an
officer came up.
"His Grace desires your presence before you sup," he said.
Pointing to Grey Dick, at whom the officer looked doubtfully, Hugh
asked that he might accompany him, as he had much to do with the
message. After some argument they were led through various passages to
a chamber, at the door of which the officer wished to take away Dick's
bow. But he would not give it up.
"The bow and I do not part," he said, in his croaking voice, "for we
are husband and wife, and live and sleep together as the married
should."
As Dick spoke the door was opened, and Prince Edward appeared.
"And do you eat together also, good fellow?" he asked, having
overheard the talk.
"Ay, sir, we feed full together," replied Dick grimly; "or so thought
some on Blythburgh Marsh a few days gone."
"I should like to hear that tale," said the Prince. "Meanwhile, since
both my father and I love archers, let him pass with his bow. Only
keep his arrows lest it should happen to grow hungry here."
Then they entered the chamber, led by the Prince. It was a fine place,
with a vaulted stone roof and windows of coloured glass, that looked
like the chancel of a church. Only at the head of it, where the altar
should have been, was a kind of dais. On this dais were set some high-
backed oaken chairs with many lanterns behind them in which burned
tapers that, together with a great wood fire, gave light to the
chamber.
In one of these chairs sat a gracious lady, who was embroidering
something silken in a frame. This was Queen Philippa, and talking to
her stood the tall King, clad in a velvet robe lined with fur. Behind,
seated at a little table on which lay parchments, was a man in a
priest's robe, writing. There was no one else in the room.
Hugh and Dick advanced to the foot of the dais, and stood there
bowing.
"Who are these?" asked the King of the Prince. "Oh, I remember, the
man who overthrew Sir Ambrose and said he had a message!"
"Ay, Sire," answered the Prince; "and this dust-coloured fellow is his
servant, who will not part with his bow, which he calls his wife and
says he sleeps with."
"I would all Englishmen did the same," broke in the King. "Say, man,
can you shoot straight?"
"I know not, Sire," replied Grey Dick, "but perhaps straighter than
most, for God, Who withheld all else from me, gave me this gift. At
least, if I be not made drunk overnight, I'll match myself against any
man at this Court, noble or simple, and stake twenty angels on it."
"Twenty angels! Have you so much, fellow?"
"Nay, Sire, nor more than one; but as I know I shall win, what does
that matter?"
"Son," said the King, "see that this man is kept sober to-night, and
to-morrow we will have a shooting match. But, sirrah, if you prove
yourself to be a boaster you shall be whipped round the walls, for I
love not tall words and small deeds. And now, young Master de Cressi,
what is this message of yours?"
Hugh thrust his hand into his bosom, and produced a sealed packet
which was addressed to "His Grace King Edward of England, sent from
Andrew Arnold, priest, by the hand of Hugh de Cressi."
"Can you read?" the King asked of Hugh when he had spelt out this
superscription.
"Ay, Sire; at least if the writing be that of Sir Andrew Arnold, for
he was my master."
"A learned one and a brave, Hugh de Cressi. Well, break seal; we
listen."
Hugh obeyed, and read as follows:
"Your Grace:
"Mayhap, Sire, you will remember me, Andrew Arnold, late master of
the Templars in this town of Dunwich, in whose house, by your
warrant for certain services rendered to your grandsire, your
sire, and to yourself, I still dwell on as a priest ordained.
Sire, the bearer of this, Hugh de Cressi, my godchild, is the son
of Geoffrey de Cressi, of this town, the great wool-merchant, with
whom your Highness has had dealings----"
"In truth I have!" interrupted the King, with a laugh. "Also I think
the account is still open--against myself. Well, it shall be paid some
day, when I have conquered France. Forward!"
"Sire, this Hugh is enamoured of Eve Clavering, daughter of Sir
John Clavering of Blythburgh, a cousin of his House, a very
beauteous maiden, commonly known as Red Eve, and she in turn is
enamoured of and betrothed to him----"
Here Queen Philippa suddenly became interested.
"Why is the lady called Red Eve, sir?" she asked in her soft voice.
"Because her cheeks are red?"
"No, Madam," answered Hugh, blushing; "because she always loves to
wear red garments."
"Ah, then she is dark!"
"That is so, Madam; her eyes and hair are black as ash-buds."
"God's truth! Lady," interrupted King Edward, "is this young man's
message of the colour of the eyes of his mistress, which, without
doubt, being in love, he describes falsely? On with the letter!"
"Out of this matter," continued Hugh, "rose a feud yesterday,
during which Hugh de Cressi killed his cousin John, fighting /à
outrance/, and his servant, Richard the Archer, who accompanies
him, commonly known as Grey Dick, slew three men with as many
arrows, two of them being Normans whose names are unknown to us,
and the third a grieve to Sir John Clavering, called Thomas of
Kessland. Also, he killed a horse, and when another Frenchman
tried to grasp his master, sent a shaft through the palm of his
hand."
"By St. George," said the King, "but here is shooting! Were they near
to you, Grey Dick?"
"Not so far away, Sire. Only the light was very bad, or I should have
had the fourth. I aimed low, Sire, fearing to miss his skull, and he
jerked up his horse's head to take the arrow."
"A good trick! I've played it myself. Well, let us have done with the
letter, and then we'll come to archery."
"Sire," read on Hugh, "I ask your royal pardon to Hugh de Cressi
and Richard the Archer for these slayings, believing that when you
have read these letters it will be granted."
"That remains to be seen," muttered the King.
"Sire, Sir Edmund Acour, who has lands here in Suffolk, Count de
Noyon in Normandy, and Seigneur of Cattrina in Italy----"
"I know the man," exclaimed Edward to the Queen, "and so do you. A
handsome knight and a pleasant, but one of whom I have always
misdoubted me."
"--Is also enamoured of Eve Clavering, and with her father's will
seeks to make her his wife, though she hates him, and by the
charter of Dunwich, of which she is a citizen, has the right to
wed whom she will."
"It is well there are not many such charters. The old story--brave men
done to death for the sake of a woman who is rightly named Red Eve,"
mused the King.
"My Liege, I pray that you will read the letter herein enclosed.
Hugh de Cressi will tell you how it came to my hand, since I lack
time to write all the story. If it seems good to your Grace, I
pray you scotch this snake while he is in your garden, lest he
should live to sting you when you walk abroad. If it please you to
give your royal warrant to the bearer of this letter, and to
address the same to such of your subjects in Dunwich as you may
think good, I doubt not but that men can be found to execute the
same. Thus would a great and traitorous plot be brought to
nothing, to your own glory and the discomfiture of your foes in
France, who hope to lay their murderous hands upon the throne of
England.
"Your humble servant and subject,
"Andrew Arnold."
"What's this?" exclaimed the King starting from his seat. "To lay
hands upon the throne of England! Quick with the other letter, man!"
"I was charged that it is for your Grace's eye alone," said Hugh as he
unfolded the paper. "Is it your pleasure that I read it aloud, if I
can, for it is writ in French?"
"Give it me," said the King. "Philippa, come help me with this crabbed
stuff."
Then they withdrew to the side of the dais, and, standing under a
lantern, spelled out Sir Edmund Acour's letter to the Duke of
Normandy, word by word.
The King finished the letter, and, still holding it in his hand, stood
for a minute silent. Then his rage broke out.
"'He of England,'" he quoted. "That's your husband, Edward, Lady, who
is to be overthrown and killed 'that Philip's son may take his seat
and be crowned King at Westminster,' which God is to bring about
before this year is out. Yes; and my cities are to be sacked and my
people slain, and this French dog, Edmund Acour, who has sworn fealty
to me, is to be rewarded with wide English lands and high English
titles. Well, by God's blood I swear that, dead or living, he shall be
lifted higher than he hopes, though not by Normandy or my brother of
France! Let me think! Let me think! If I send men-at-arms he'll hear
of it and slip away. Did not good old Sir Andrew call him a snake?
Now, where's this girl, Red Eve?"
"In sanctuary, Sire, at the Temple Church in Dunwich," answered Hugh.
"Ah, and she's a great heiress now, for you killed her brother, and
Acour, although he has wide possessions in sundry lands, was ever a
spendthrift and deep in debt. No, he'll not leave unless he can get
the girl; and old Sir Andrew will guard her well with the power of the
Church, and with his own right arm if need be, for he's still more
knight than priest. So there's no hurry. Tell me all you know of this
story, Hugh de Cressi, omitting nothing, however small. Nay, have no
fear, if you can vouch for your fellow there, all of us in this
chamber are loyal to England. Speak out, man."
So Hugh began and told of the de Cressis and the Claverings and their
feud, and of how he and Eve had always loved each other. He told of
their meeting in the reeds of Blythburgh Fen, and of the death of John
de Clavering at his hand and of the others at the hand of Grey Dick,
and of the escape of Acour from the fourth arrow. He told how he and
Eve had swum the Blyth in flood though the ice cut them, and hid on
the moor while Grey Dick led the Claverings astray, and came at last
safe to sanctuary. He told how Acour's letter had been won from his
messenger by Sir Andrew's loyal guile. He told of the penance that Sir
Andrew had laid upon them because of the new-shed blood of John
Clavering, of the flight from Dunwich and the shooting of the horses
of the Clavering men, and of their ride to London and to Windsor. He
told everything, save only the tale of what Sir Andrew had seen in the
House of Murgh in far Cathay.
When at last he had finished, and though it was long none there grew
weary of that story, the King turned to the clerk, and said:
"Brother Peter, make out a full pardon to Hugh de Cressi of Dunwich
and Richard Archer his servant for all slayings or other deeds wrought
by them contrary to our general peace. Draw it wide, and bring the
same to me for execution ere I sleep to-night. Make out a commission
also to the Mayor of Dunwich--nay, I'll think that matter over and
instruct you further. Hugh de Cressi, you have our thanks, and if you
go on as you have begun you shall have more ere long, for I need such
men about me. You also, strange and death-like man named Grey Dick,
shall not lack our favour if it proves that you can shoot but half as
well as you have boasted, and, unless you lie, both of you, as it
seems that you have done. And now to supper, though in truth this news
does not kindle appetite. Son, see that this gentleman is well served,
and that none mock him more about the fashion of his armour, above all
Sir Ambrose, for I'll not suffer it. Plate and damascene do not make a
man, and this, it seems, was borrowed from as brave, ay, and as
learned, a knight as ever bestrode a horse in war. Come, Lady," and
taking the Queen by the hand, he left the chamber.
That evening Hugh ate his food seated among the knights of the
Household at a high table in the great hall, at the head of which, for
the King supped in private, was placed the young Prince Edward. He
noted that now none laughed at him about the fashion of his mail or
his country ways. Indeed, when after supper Sir Ambrose Lacey came to
him and asked his pardon for the talk that he had used to him in the
Windsor street--he was sure that some word had been sent round that
his business had brought him favour with the King and that he must be
treated with all courtesy. Several of those who sat round him tried to
discover what that business was. But of this he would say nothing,
parrying their questions with others about the wars in France, and
listening with open ears to the tales of great deeds done there.
"Ah, would that I could see such things!" he said.
To which one of them answered:
"Well, why not? There'll be chance enough ere long, and many of us
would be glad of a square built like you."
Now, at lower tables, in that vast hall, Hugh's servants, and with
them Grey Dick, sat among the men-at-arms of the King's Guard, who
were all chosen for their courage, and skill in archery. These
soldiers, noting the strange-faced, ashen-haired fellow who ate with
his bow resting on the bench beside him, inquired about him from the
other Dunwich men, and soon heard enough to cause them to open their
eyes. When the ale had got hold of them they opened their mouths also,
and, crowding round Dick, asked if it were true that he could shoot
well.
"As well as another," he answered, and would say no more.
Then they looked at his bow, and saw that it was old-fashioned, like
his master's mail, and of some foreign make and wood, but a mighty
weapon such as few could handle and hold straight. Lastly, they began
to challenge him to a match upon the morrow, to which he answered, who
also had been drinking ale and was growing angry, that he'd give the
best of them five points in fifty.
Now they mocked, for among them were some famous archers, and asked at
what range.
"At any ye will," answered Grey Dick, "from twelve score yards down to
one score yards. Now trouble me no longer, who if I must shoot
to-morrow would sleep first and drink no more of your strong ale that
breeds bad humours in one reared upon dyke water."
Then, seizing his bow, he glided away in his curious stoat-like
fashion to the hole where he had been shown that he should sleep.
"A braggart!" said one.
"I am not so sure," answered a grizzled captain of archers, who had
fought in many wars. "Braggarts make a noise, but this fellow only
spoke when we squeezed him and perhaps what came out of those thin
lips was truth. At least, from his look I'd sooner not find him
against me bow to bow."
Then they fell to betting which of them would beat Grey Dick by the
heaviest points.
Next morning about nine o'clock the King sent a messenger to Hugh,
bidding him and his servant Richard wait upon them. They went with
this messenger, who led them to a little chamber, where his Grace sat,
attended only by the clerk, Brother Peter, and a dark-browed minister,
whose name he never learned.
"Hugh de Cressi and Richard Archer," said Edward, motioning to the
minister to hand Hugh a parchment to which hung a great seal, "here is
the pardon which I promised you. No need to stay to read it, since it
is as wide as Windsor Keep, and woe betide him who lifts hand against
either of you for aught you may have done or left undone in the past
contrary to the laws of our realm. Yet remember well that this grace
runs not to the future. Now that matter is ended, and we come to one
that is greater. Because of the faith put in you by our loyal and
beloved subject, Sir Andrew Arnold, your godsire, and because we like
the fashion of you, Hugh de Cressi, and hold you brave and honest, it
has pleased us to give you a commission under which we direct the
Mayor of Dunwich and all true and lawful men of that town and hundred
to aid you in the taking or, if need be, in the slaying of our
subject, Sir Edmund Acour, Count of Noyon and Seigneur of Cattrina. We
command you to bring this man before us alive or dead, that his cause
may be judged of our courts and the truth of the matter alleged
against him by the Reverend Father Sir Andrew Arnold therein
determined. Nevertheless, we command you not to wound or kill the said
knight unless he resists the authority of us by you conveyed and you
cannot otherwise hold him safe from escaping from out this our realm.
This commission you will presently go forth to execute, keeping its
tenor and your aim secret until the moment comes to strike, and, as
you perform your duty, of which you will return and make report to us,
so shall we judge and reward you. Do you understand?"
"Sire," answered Hugh, bowing, "I understand, and I will obey to my
last breath."
"Good! When the parchments are engrossed my officer here will read
them to you and explain aught that may need it. Meanwhile, we have an
hour or two during which your horses can eat, for there are no fresh
beasts here to give you, and it is best, to avoid doubts, that you
should return as you came, only showing your powers if any should
attempt to arrest you. So let us have done with these heavy matters,
and disport us for a while. This servant of yours has made a common
boast that he will outshoot any of our picked archers, and now we are
ready to go forth and put him to the proof of the butts. Let him know,
however, that, notwithstanding our words of yesterday, we shall not
hold him to blame if he fails, since many a man of higher degree
promises more at night than he can perform in the morning."
"Sire, I'll do my best. I can no more," said Grey Dick. "Only I pray
that none may be suffered to hang about or pester me at the butts,
since I am a lonely man who love not company when I use my art."
"That shall be so," said the King. "And now to the sport."
"The sport!" grumbled Grey Dick, when he and Hugh were alone together.
"Why, it is other sport we should be seeking, with Acour and his
knaves for targets. Go to the King, master, and show him that while we
linger here the Frenchman may slip away, or work more and worse
treasons."
"I cannot, Dick; the parchments are not written out, and his Grace is
bent upon this pleasure match. Moreover, man, all these archers here--
yes, and their betters also--would say that you had fled because you
were an empty boaster who dared not face the trial."
"They'd say that, would they?" snarled Grey Dick. "Yes, they'd say
that, which would be bitter hearing for you and me. Well, they shall
not say it. Yet I tell you, master," he added in a burst of words,
"although I know not why, I'd rather bear their scorn and be away on
the road to Dunwich."
"It may not be, Dick," replied Hugh, shaking his head doubtfully.
"See, here they come to fetch us."
In a glade of the forest of Windsor situated near to the castle and
measuring some twenty-five score yards of open level ground, stood
Grey Dick, a strange, uncouth figure, at whom the archers of the guard
laughed, nudging each other. In his bony hand, however, he held that
at which they did not laugh, namely, the great black bow, six feet six
inches long, which he said had come to him "from the sea," and was
fashioned, not of yew, but of some heavy, close-grained wood, grown
perhaps in Southern or even in far Eastern lands. Still, one of them,
who had tried to draw this bow to his ear and could not, said aloud
that "the Suffolk man would do naught with that clumsy pole." Whereat,
Grey Dick, who heard him, grinning, showing his white teeth like an
angry dog.
Near by, on horseback and on foot, were the King, the young Prince
Edward, and many knights and ladies; while on the other side stood
scores of soldiers and other folk from the castle, who came to see
this ugly fellow well beaten at his own game.
"Dick," whispered Hugh, "shoot now as you never shot before. Teach
them a lesson for the honour of Suffolk."
"Let me be, master," he grumbled. "I told you I would do my best."
Then he sat himself down on the grass and began to examine his arrows
one by one, to all appearance taking no heed of anything else.
Presently came the first test. At a distance of five score yards was
set a little "clout," or target, of white wood, not more than two feet
square. This clout had a red mark, or eye, three inches across,
painted in its centre, and stood not very high above the sward.
"Now, Richard," said the King, "three of the best archers that we have
about us have been chosen to shoot against you and each other by their
fellows. Say, will you draw first or last?"
"Last, Sire," he answered, "that I may know their mettle."
Then a man stepped forward, a strong and gallant looking fellow, and
loosed his three arrows. The first missed the clout, the second
pierced the white wood, and the third hit the red eye.
The clout having been changed, and the old one brought to the King
with the arrows in it, the second man took his turn. This time all
three of the arrows hit the mark, one of them being in the red. Again
it was changed, and forth came the great archer of the guard, a tall
and clear-eyed man named Jack Green, and whom, it was said, none had
ever beaten. He drew, and the arrow went home in the red on its left
edge. He drew again, and the arrow went home in the red on its right
edge. He drew a third time, and the arrow went home straight in the
very centre of the red, where was a little black spot.
Now a great laugh went up, since clearly the Suffolk man was beaten
ere ever he began.
"Your Dick may do as well; he can do no better," said the King, when
the target was brought to him.
Grey Dick looked at it.
"A boon, your Grace," said Dick. "Grant that this clout may be set up
again with the arrows fast. Any may know them from mine since they are
grey, whereas those I make are black, for I am a fletcher in my spare
hours, and love my own handiwork."
"So be it," said the King, wondering; and the clout was replaced upon
its stand.
Now Grey Dick stretched himself, looked at the clout, looked at his
bow, and set a black-winged arrow on the string. Then he drew, it
seemed but lightly and carelessly, as though he thought the distance
small. Away flew the shaft, and sank into the red a good inch within
the leftmost arrow of Jack Green.
"Ah," said the onlookers, "a lucky shot indeed!"
Again he drew, and again the arrow sank into the red, a good inch
within the rightmost shot of Jack Green.
"Oh!" said the onlookers, "this man is an archer; but Jack's last he
cannot best, let the devil help him how he will."
"In the devil's name, then, be silent!" wheezed Grey Dick, with a
flash of his half-opened eye.
"Ay, be silent--be silent!" said the King. "We do not see such
shooting every day."
Now Dick set his foot apart and, arrow on string, thrice he lifted his
bow and thrice let it sink again, perhaps because he felt some breath
of wind stir the still air. A fourth time he lifted, and drew, not as
he had before, but straight to the ear, then loosed at once.
Away rushed the yard-long shaft, and folk noted that it scarcely
seemed to rise as arrows do, or at least not half so high. It rushed,
it smote, and there was silence, for none could see exactly what had
happened. Then he who stood near the target to mark ran forward, and
screamed out:
"By God's name, he has shattered Jack Green's centre arrow, and shot
/clean through the clout!/"
Then from all sides rose the old archer cry, "/He, He! He, He!/" while
the young Prince threw his cap on high, and the King said:
"Would that there were more such men as this in England! Jack Green,
it seems that you are beaten."
"Nay," said Grey Dick, seating himself again upon the grass, "there is
naught to choose between us in this round. What next, your Grace?"
Only Hugh, who watched him, saw the big veins swell beneath the pale
skin of his forehead, as they ever did when he was moved.
"The war game," said the King; "that is, if you will, for here rough
knocks may be going. Set it out, one of you."
Then a captain of the archers explained this sport. In short it was
that man should stand against man clad in leather jerkins, and wearing
a vizor to protect the face, and shoot at each other with blunt arrows
rubbed with chalk, he who first took what would have been a mortal
wound to be held worsted.
"I like not blunted arrows," said Grey Dick; "or, for the matter of
that, any other arrows save my own. Against how many must I play? The
three?"
The captain nodded.
"Then, by your leave, I will take them all at once."
Now some said that this was not fair, but in the end Dick won his
point, and those archers whom he had beaten, among them Jack Green,
were placed against him, standing five yards apart, and blunted arrows
served out to all. Dick set one of them on the string, and laid the
two others in front of them. Then a knight rode to halfway between
them, but a little to one side, and shouted: "Loose!"
As the word struck his ear Dick shot with wonderful swiftness, and
almost as the arrow left the bow flung himself down, grasping another
as he fell. Next instant, three shafts whistled over where he had
stood. But his found its mark on the body of him at whom he had aimed,
causing the man to stagger backward and throw down his bow, as he was
bound to do, if hit.
Next instant Dick was up again and his second arrow flew, striking
full and fair before ever he at whom it was aimed had drawn.
Now there remained Jack Green alone, and, as Dick set the third arrow,
but before he could draw, Jack Green shot.
"Beat!" said Dick, and stood quite still.
At him rushed the swift shaft, and passed over his shoulder within a
hairbreadth of his ear. Then came Dick's turn. On Jack Green's cap was
an archer's plume.
"Mark the plume, lords," he said, and lo! the feather leapt from that
cap.
Now there was silence. No one spoke, but Dick drew out three more
arrows.
"Tell me, captain," he said, "is your ground marked out in scores; and
what is the farthest that any one of you has sent a flighting shot?"
"Ay," answered the officer, "and twenty score and one yard is the
farthest, nor has that been done for many a day."
Dick steadied himself, and seemed to fill his lungs with air. Then,
stretching his long arms to the full, he drew the great bow till the
horns looked as though they came quite close together, and loosed.
High and far flew that shaft; men's eyes could scarcely follow it, and
all must wait long before a man came running to say where it had
fallen.
"Twenty score and two yards!" he cried.
"Not much to win by," grunted Dick, "though enough. I have done twenty
and one score once, but that was somewhat downhill."
Then, while the silence still reigned, he set the second arrow on the
string, and waited, as though he knew not what to do. Presently, about
fifty paces from him, a wood dove flew from out a tree and, as such
birds do at the first breath of spring, for the day was mild and
sunny, hovered a moment in the air ere it dipped toward a great fir
where doubtless it had built for years. Never, poor fowl, was it
destined to build again, for as it turned its beak downward Dick's
shaft pierced it through and through and bore it onward to the earth.
Still in the midst of a great silence, Dick took up his quiver and
emptied it on the ground, then gave it to the captain of the archers,
saying:
"And you will, step sixty, nay, seventy paces, and set this mouth
upward in the grass where a man may see it well."
The captain did so, propping the quiver straight with stones and a bit
of wood. Then, having studied all things with his eyes, Dick shot
upward, but softly. Making a gentle curve, the arrow turned in the air
as it drew near the quiver, and fell into its mouth, striking it flat.
"Ill done," grumbled Dick; "had I shot well, it should have been
pinned to earth. Well, yon shadow baulked me, and it might have been
worse."
Then he unstrung his bow, and slipped it into its case.
Now, at length, the silence was broken, and in good earnest. Men,
especially those of Dunwich, screamed and shouted, hurling up their
caps. Jack Green, for all jealousy was forgotten at the sight of this
wondrous skill, ran to Dick, clasped him in his arms, and, dragging
the badge from off his breast, tried to pin it to his rough doublet.
The young Prince came and clapped him on the shoulder, saying:
"Be my man! Be my man!"
But Dick only growled, "Paws off! What have I done that I have not
done a score of times before with no fine folk to watch me? I shot to
please my master and for the honour of Suffolk, not for you, and
because some dogs keep their tails too tightly curled."
"A sulky fellow," said the Prince, "but, by heaven, I like him!"
Then the King pushed his horse through the throng, and all fell back
before his Grace.
"Richard Archer," he said, "never has such marksmanship as yours been
seen in England since we sat upon the throne, nor shall it go
unrewarded. The twenty angels that you said you would stake last night
shall be paid to you by the treasurer of our household. Moreover, here
is a gift from Edward of England, the friend of archers, that you may
be pleased to wear," and taking his velvet cap from off his head, the
King unpinned from it a golden arrow of which the barbed head was cut
from a ruby, and gave it to him.
"I thank you, Sire," said Dick, his pale skin flushing with pride and
pleasure. "I'll wear it while I live, and may the sight of it mean
death to many of your enemies."
"Without doubt it will, and that ere long, Richard, for know you that
soon we sail again for France, whence the tempest held us back, and it
is my pleasure that you sail with us. Therefore I name you one of our
fletchers, with place about our person in our bodyguard of archers.
Jack Green will show you your quarters, and instruct you in your
duties, and soon you shall match your skill against his again, but
next time with Frenchmen for your targets."
"Sire," said Dick, very slowly, "take back your arrow, for I cannot do
as you will."
"Why, man? Are you a Frenchman?" asked the King, angrily, for he was
not wont to have his favours thus refused.
"My mother never told me so, Sire, although I don't know for certain
who my father may have been. Still, I think not, since I hate the
sight of that breed as a farmer's dog hates rats. But, Sire, I have a
good master, and do not wish to change him for one who, saving your
presence, may prove a worse, since King's favour on Monday has been
known to mean King's halter on Tuesday. Did you not promise to whip me
round your walls last night unless I shot as well as I thought I
could, and now do you not change your face and give me golden arrows?"
At these bold words a roar of laughter went up from all who heard
them, in which the King himself joined heartily enough.
"Silence!" he cried presently. "This yeoman's tongue is as sharp as
his shafts. I am pierced. Let us hear whom he will hit next."
"You again, Sire, I think," went on Dick, "because, after the fashion
of kings, you are unjust. You praise me for my shooting, whereas you
should praise God, seeing that it is no merit of mine, but a gift He
gave me at my birth in place of much which He withheld. Moreover, my
master there," and he pointed to Hugh, "who has just done you better
service than hitting a clout in the red and a dow beneath the wing,
you forget altogether, though I tell you he can shoot almost as well
as I, for I taught him."
"Dick, Dick!" broke in Hugh in an agony of shame. Taking no heed, Dick
went on imperturbably: "And is the best man with a sword in Suffolk,
as the ghost of John Clavering knows to-day. Lastly, Sire, you send
this master of mine upon a certain business where straight arrows may
be wanted as well as sharp swords, and yet you'd keep me here
whittling them out of ashwood, who, if I could have had my will, would
have been on the road these two hours gone. Is that a king's wisdom?"
"By St. George!" exclaimed Edward, "I think that I should make you
councillor as well as fletcher, since without doubt, man, you have a
bitter wit, and, what is more rare, do not fear to speak the truth as
you see it. Moreover, in this matter, you see it well. Go with Hugh de
Cressi on the business which I have given him to do, and, when it is
finished, should both or either of you live, neglect not our command
to rejoin us here, or--if we have crossed the sea--in France. Edward
of England needs the service of such a sword and such a bow."
"You shall have them both, Sire," broke in Hugh, "for what they are
worth. Moreover, I pray your Grace be not angry with Grey Dick's
words, for if God gave him a quick eye, He also gave him a rough
tongue."
"Not I, Hugh de Cressi, for know, we love what is rough if it be also
honest. It is smooth, false words of treachery that we hate, such
words as are ever on the lips of one whom we send you forth to bring
to his account. Now to your duty. Farewell till we meet again, whether
it be here or where all men, true or traitors, must foot their bill at
last."
