OF THE MEETING OF FEARGUS AND OSBERT
When the host of Penda was ready, so splendid it looked that no man had
ever seen its like. By the king on either hand rode a company of kings
and princes of royal blood to the number of thirty. They were English of
Mercia, king Cadwalla of the Gwynedd, the British of Mercia, Southumbria,
East Anglia and the fens, and even from Oswy’s own chiefly-Welsh kingdom
of Northumbria; with Picts from Galloway and Lothian by the shores of
Forth. It was a great and motley gathering of Christian and heathen,
Angle and Kelt, and the king himself held the centre. Osbert was sent
on before to gather in men whose dwellings lay by the way, and was to
join the king at the Winwoed near Loidis or Leeds. Feargus longed to see
Torfrida before the battle, for he knew that she was in her father’s camp
and by the help of her brother Edwy thought to get speech of her; so he
sent a trusty messenger to Edwy, and when they came by Nottingham he
delayed and tarried behind, promising to meet the king seven days hence
at the Winwoed field. So the king departed, taking with him the more part
of his host, being the right wing and centre. And Feargus went forth on
his great roan steed—there being few that could carry his bulk—and he
donned his minstrel’s dress and entered the wood. After riding for four
days he came near to where a great army was gathered, then tethering his
beast to a tree he sat down. At the first glint of sunrise he heard the
trampling of a horse through the dry leaves and Torfrida rode up hidden
in the folds of a cloak of great size.
“At last, sweet one!” said he. “Dark it seemed while the mirk lay around,
now thy presence maketh all the world bright.”
“Nay, now, this is but an ill time for fair speeches, brave Feargus; my
heart is breaking with ill foreboding—nay, kisses cannot comfort me. Wilt
spare my father, Feargus, and leave king Penda; hast thou no answer for
me save a kiss?”
“So little value thou settest on my kisses, and yet the memory of the few
thou gavest me, miser as thou art, is always with me.”
“I ask my father’s life and thou profferest a kiss; these thou canst
give me in plenty, but thou canst not give me my father, Sigmund, when
the arrows of king Penda have taken him once from me. A kiss for a life
forsooth!”
“I would even now give my life for a kiss, Torfrida, but king Penda’s
I may not give. What stirreth yon boughs? See! it is not the wind, for
there is but little, and hark, the sound of hoofs! Torfrida, we are
betrayed.”
“Oh, say not so. Fly, Feargus, they are my father’s men; fly, they will
slay thee!”
“Thy father’s men or not, my red roan is little used to flying. Penda’s
men are only taught to go right forward.”
“That shows how foolish men are; hide then thy sword that they may take
thee for a peaceful minstrel, and I, thy lady.”
And so, guiding their horses aside behind the boll of a great tree, they
waited until two horsemen appeared; at sight of them Feargus started.
“Torfrida,” said he, “we are indeed lost—it is Osbert and Edgar; behind
ride their men doubtless. Caught with the daughter of an enemy, sweetest,
none will believe we are not plotting Penda’s downfall, and Osbert will
take heed that none _shall_ believe.”
“Alas! thou wert ever too ready to run great risk.”
“Kiss me, Torfrida, for henceforth I shall be shorn of name and worship
and the fellowship of brave men, and thou wilt no longer wish my company.”
“Nay, speak not thus; it is for me that thou hast risked all things.”
“What cheer, sir minstrel?” shouted the newcomers.
“And what ho! ha! a woman—thou sly dog; but surely thou art a stalwart
fellow for a minstrel and great of limb; a better soldier thou wouldst
make.”
“A man wants but a strong arm to be a soldier; a minstrel needeth heart
and mind.”
“I see thou hast no stomach for the fight; th’art doubtless faint of
soul.”
“Not more faint neither than thou art thyself.”
“Ha, ha! an insolent dog! Little of the minstrel is there in thee.”
“Get thee hence on thy journey; men of my calling are not used to be
treated as slaves or sword-bearers; but for all that thou hast great
backing I am not adread of thee.”
“Thou hast a saucy tongue, knave. Here, lead thou his horse, and now,
minstrel, strike thou a song, my men are weary, and if thou canst not
play then shall ye lose your lady.”
So Feargus struck his harp, knowing that it would be fatal to him if the
news of his disobedience to his oath reached the king through Osbert. So
they were mighty pleased with his playing, and all would have been well
and the evil of all that day had never been, but Edgar, who was riding
nearest, suddenly cried: “Thou art a cunning knave, thou minstrel; thy
lady hath a graceful figure, surely she will be fair of face also.” So
saying he drew aside the veil that covered her face and Osbert cried out—
“Torfrida!”
But hardly had the hand of Edgar reached his side again before, with his
master’s touch, the great red beast of Feargus turned swiftly and the
giant minstrel, seizing his harp in both his hands, struck Edgar with it
so hard that the dead face of him was such that no man knew it for that
of Edgar. And so fell the third captain of king Penda.
Then said Osbert in great rage, “Stay, bowmen, your hands; back, carls,
_I_ will deal, for he hath slain my kinsman.”
Then the beast of Feargus swerved round again and faced the thane as he
drew his sword.
“Nay,” said Feargus; “enough bale hath been wrought already, Osbert, and
I would that thou and thy rash kinsman, whom I have slain thus hastily in
high blood, should be with me on the right hand and on the left of king
Penda on the day of battle. Nay, I will not do further hurt to the cause
of our king by the slaying of thee; but when his enemies are scattered we
can settle this quarrel—for I am Feargus.”
“Then have we here a traitor caught with the daughter of our enemy,
Sigmund. Long hast thou deserved death, and now shalt thou have it, for
thou hast shamed me by the slaying of my kinsman.”
“No traitor am I, Osbert, to Penda, only in trysting with the lady
Torfrida, else what need had I to meet my lady in the wood, and in
secret, when in this guise I might have entered the very courts of king
Sigmund.”
“Defend thee, traitor,” cried Osbert, fiercely drawing his brand.
“Nay, a tryst have you and I with king Penda by the waters of Aire. Thou
wouldst right thine own wrongs at Penda’s cost, but such am not I.”
“Then a coward I brand thee, and a traitor, before these my men,” and so
saying he smote Feargus with his sheathed sword.
“Now, thou fool,” said Feargus, “thou shalt have thy wish, for no other
choice thou leavest me.”
And then the men fell back and cleared a space, and Osbert rushed upon
his antagonist and plied his sword until the sweat poured down from the
brows of the both of them, and yet Feargus forbore to strike, for sake of
Penda, and when Osbert was aweary he said—
“Now for the king’s sake let us stop this hand-play, or of a surety we
will be too late to tryst with him by the waters of Aire, for thou well
knowest that the king will not wait if the enemy showeth himself, but,
branding us both as traitors to him, will fall to the fighting.”
Osbert made no answer, but, being breathed, rushed again upon his foe,
so angry was he to be shamed before Torfrida and so full of jealousy of
Feargus. Long time they fought while the day wore on, and then Feargus
saw that unless he slew the thane he would himself be slain, and all the
men marvelled at his swordsmanship that could keep so renowned and fierce
a sword-player off so long, for neither of them had any hurt.
At length Feargus turned upon his foe and they met together with a great
shock, and the helm of Osbert fell in sunder two ways and his shield fell
another and his sword was bursted at the hilt and he staggered back as a
ship starts that hath struck ground. And then Feargus turned aside, not
wishing to slay him, though like a dead man he lay for many a month.