THE MEETING IN THE FOREST
After speaking with Feargus, Torfrida returned to her maidens, telling
them to keep secret the knowledge that Feargus had appeared among them.
On the morrow Osbert arose and, saddling his horse, took his way towards
the king’s hall, on the side where Torfrida sat in her bower among her
maidens. As he drew near he saw an object lying across the threshold
shining brightly. Now for many months he had seen the mad Pict lying
across the gate in this wise, and had tried to persuade Torfrida to
turn him away from her door; but she mistrusted Osbert, and her father
dreaded him, and for his sake she had to hearken to him, but with an
ever-increasing ill-will the more he pressed his suit. And Torfrida had
felt that a kind of safety lay in the mad giant who came of her mother’s
race. So Osbert had got used to his presence, but as he drew near the
door he saw that this was surely no mad and ragged Pict that lay in the
gate, but a shining warrior in a gold byrny richly wrought, fit for
king’s wear. As he stepped up the man stirred not. Then said Osbert:
“Now, sir warrior of the scarlet locks, make way, for I would enter.”
“For what wouldst thou enter—the lady doth not lack thee nor aught of
thine?”
“Fool—where I am not, there am I lacked.”
“Lacked truly, but not desired.”
“Rude dog—let me pass.”
“Nay, no man passes here without leave of the lady.”
“Thou art beside thyself, but now I am minded that thou art him of the
woods, that erst ran ragged like as never man was afore. But thou hast
found thy tongue. What ho! ye maidens of the lady Torfrida, hither and
move thy mad watch-dog, else will I do him a hurt.”
Torfrida sitting within heard the cry, and minded her of Feargus, and
ran out, and lo! there were the two men facing each other. Then said she
sharply to Feargus in the Pictish tongue: “How foolish thou art and how
rash! Seek ye no quarrel lest ye bring ruin on the twain of us. If they
find thee out who thou art, then thou art lost, and then will my death
come also, for rather would I die with thee, foolish as thou art, than
live a day with him.”
So Feargus paused and stood aside at her bidding but sulkily, and Osbert
stepped in.
“What hath brought about this change in thy watch-dog, or I might say
watch-tower, so tall of stature is he?” said Osbert. “Of a surety ’tis
a dangerous and unmannerly brute, and sorely did my hand itch to thrash
him.”
“Methought thou hadst given him enough of thrashing to last thee: as thou
shouldst know the dog hath long teeth. And I warn thee that if but a hair
of his beard be harmed I shall know that thy hand, or more like the hands
of thy men, have been at the doing of it, and never again shalt thou sit
aside the ingle in hall of mine. This much will I do for my mother’s kin.”
And so they parted, and Feargus lay still outside the door, and Torfrida
feared for him, dreading the villainy of Osbert, for sore had he pressed
his suit that day, and she had repelled him roughly, till he left her
in anger. So when her maidens slept she arose, and went and looked
forth the window that stood near by the door, watching the watcher. And
the night following she did the same. And she sent a messenger to her
brother Edwy, who, back from foreign lands, was through the evil counsel
of Osbert kept in a far-off town on the border of Sigmund’s land, where
little life stirred, and there were none to befriend him. And when the
messenger gave him the summons he set forth to meet Torfrida in the
Sherwood near to the hamlet of Mansfield.
And Torfrida arose early before the day broke and took horse, and with
Feargus rode to meet her brother. But Osbert had set a spy to watch her,
and he followed them clad in green from head to foot that he might hardly
be told from the green leaves. And he lurked ever in their footsteps,
but kept well covered, behind bush and bracken, for he well knew the
sureness of the arrows which flew from the great bow of the Pict. He
watched the two riding side by side, and Feargus he heard talking, now in
English, now in Gaelic, as madman never talked before. Now their horses
drew together, and the Pict put his arm around her, and so they rode.
At length, about noon, they reached a narrow glen where they drew up,
and he lifted her aground and took her in his arms, kissing her and she
him. Then they sat side by side on a fallen tree, holding sweet converse,
until the spy heard the leaves rustle and up dashed young Edwy, his horse
covered with foam. He drew up so suddenly that the beast went back upon
its haunches. Quickly he sprang aground and threw his arms about the
madman, and the two wept together for very gladness. And then they held
counsel.
“And,” said Edwy, “noble brother and sister, I fear that much ill is
before ye both, and before me and my father’s house, for in the nest is
the gowk that will turn out the young sparrows should it be thwarted of
its prey, which is thyself, sweet sister, a little, and the kingdom of
the Lindiswaras more.”
“Sorely thou comfortest me, Edwy,” said Torfrida.
“It were better,” said Feargus, “that we three should fly together, to my
own Alban, and come forth again with an army and slay this serpent who
bendeth the old man to his will.”
“Nay,” said Torfrida, “greater need hath he than ever of his daughter to
comfort and his son to deliver him.”
So they bade Edwy farewell, and departed. And the spy, though he had seen
all, had no power to understand their words, for they spoke in the Gaelic
tongue.