HOW THEY LOST THEIR WAY IN THE GREENWOOD
And so they saddled their beasts and sped through the forest ever
thinking that the men of Sigmund were upon them, and when night fell
still they rode on, until at length Torfrida was utterly weary and like
to fall from her horse. This Feargus saw, though she complained not, so
that he drew up and dismounted. Then he set about to make her a tent with
bushes and sticks, over which he stretched the plaid he carried. And she
lay down inside the tent and he fitted an arrow to his bow and stood
outside hard by. At about the midnight he was startled by the baying of a
hound in the rear whence they had come. So he saddled the tired beasts,
but judging their enemies to be yet a long way off, left Torfrida resting
and went deeper into the forest till he came upon a sleeping stag which
he slew, and cutting the skin therefrom fastened pieces on to the feet
of their horses, judging that the hounds were following the horses’ track
and not that of the deer. Then he went to Torfrida’s tent and said,
“Sorry am I to arouse thee; full well I know thou art weary, but arise I
pray thee, for now have they brought hounds to track us and we must away.”
She arose and came out and he lifted her into the saddle half asleep, and
they went on, and in their rear could be heard the baying of dogs and
movements of men and horses, and Torfrida was sore afraid and trembled.
Then, further to hide the track of them, Feargus steered their way
westward through the wood, till after many hours’ riding they won the
river Trent, and taking a grip of Torfrida’s bridle he caused the beasts
to plunge in and they swam strongly till they reached the shore. They
entered there the forest of Sherwood, which was deeper than that through
which they had come and full of swamps and devious ways and beasts and
robbers. Little he liked to enter it, and he wrapped the cloak close
around Torfrida as though she were a youth and put a man’s bonnet on her
brow and bound a white cloth about her forehead, as though she were sick
of a wound. Then out of his wallet he took an old dress, much worn but
strong, like to the habit of a medicine man, and set it over his byrny,
and such a sorry couple they made as it little would profit to rob. So
they held on laboriously for three days, not daring to linger long in one
place, but striking ever northwards through the greenwood. On the fourth
day so weary was Torfrida that Feargus would have her to rest well, and
in the dusk of evening they came to a stand in a glade of wondrous beauty
nigh to where a burn ran, and were for resting there. He made the tent
for Torfrida and cooked and ate of the stag’s flesh which he had slain
and drank of the burn. Then, having eaten, Feargus took his sword and bow
and went to look around, following the burn. He had gone but a stone’s
throw from where they had set their camp when to his great amaze he saw
a sheet of water stretching before him; he looked to the right hand and
to the left down the broad stream. On the opposite bank was a forest,
but of not such density as the Sherwood in which he stood. Where had he
seen that place before? His heart leapt, for lo! they had come again to
the spot at which they had crossed Trent water four days since! Then his
courage failed him and he leant against a tree and nigh wept. So long
he stood that Torfrida, wondering what kept him, followed his track yet
visible in the soft earth, and came upon him and marvelled, so still he
stood, till she beheld the water and knew the place, and threw herself
upon his neck, and they stood there long together without speech.
“Better would it be, Torfrida, for thee if thou didst cross once more
Trent water and seek thy father, for great travail will be ours or we win
the land of the bens, if ever we reach it; for much I doubt whether we
may win so far north.”
“Nay, then thou wilt have an arrow for each of us.”
“An thou art so bravely minded, to-morrow we will rest and the next day
hold on, and methinks here is a clear space by Trent side and, though if
we ride along the water we will go too far to the east, I can here see
the heavens and may pilot our way by the stars.” So they rested and then
on for many a league, going oftentimes miles about for want of a path,
and for fear of moss and water and thicket impassable. It chanced as they
were riding one evening by Trent they saw a small boat flit from under
the opposite bank and strike across towards them. In it were three men
clad in forest green, so that it was hard to tell them amongst the green
leaves. Feargus sprang aground and ran swiftly forward, ere they knew him
ware of their presence. Then with bow fixed he hailed them. “Ho! ye men
in green. I give ye warning that he who but a bow raises shall lift bow
no more for many days—halt, I say.”
He who sat in the bow seized his arrows, however, and fitted one, then
Feargus let his arrow forth and lo! it struck the man through the hand,
and his bow had hardly slipped from his grasp ere another struck the side
of the boat and pierced it.
“Now canst thou see what manner of bowman am I? hold, therefore, or by my
next shot you will find yourselves in Trent. Then will I slay ye as ye
swim to land.”
Then said he of the wounded hand, “This is no mortal man but a giant; saw
ye ever the like or bow of so great size? Little profit were it to fight
with him.” Then he said to Feargus, “Now, good master, what wilt thou of
us? thou art a goodly bowman and we would land, for our boat hath a rent
in her such as no bowman of mine could have made in so stout a craft.”
“I ask a safe free passage through the forest.”
“That we promise thee.”
“I lack a guide also to lead me, and another with him as a surety for his
good faith and that of thy men. And if he betray me then will I cut the
throats of ye both.”
“Thou hast shot me through the hand, I would avail little against my own
foes.”
“Thou shalt not lack such defence as I can give thee against thine
enemies as long as thou servest me.”
“Thou speakest fair, an thou wilt let us land we will take thy terms.”
“Then let the three of ye land, and give me thy troth and let thy men do
likewise.”
“I swear by the old gods and by the new God.”
“And I.” “And I.”
So they landed, and Feargus tied the man’s hands behind him, but the
wounded captain he let free, after binding his wound. And he made them
walk before him and kept an arrow in his hand ready. And so at last they
left the Trent and struck north and west through the forest, towards
the lands of the Northern English beyond Mansfield. When they reached
the forest marge, Feargus gave the captain his bow to defend him with,
and let the green men go free. And they rode out through the lands of
the North English who were once Penda’s men, and soon found themselves
well out of the forest and won a good road and followed it and came
to a turning and there found a hostel where wayfarers might find rest
and meat. So they entered and ate heartily. But soon a crowd collected
outside, so wild were their looks, and so giant-like Feargus and rode
such a monstrous beast, though the creature had little else to recommend
him to a stranger, for Feargus had let him run wild and left him
mud-stained to hide his worth, though food or other care he never lacked
and ate ever before his master had eaten. Then the people gan asking
Torfrida who her master might be and much ado she had to silence them,
and Feargus began to fear that they might not safely stay in that hostel.
Yet he little liked turning out again into the night, he being heavy
for lack of sleep, for while the green men were with them he had got no
rest, but ever had to watch that they did not betray them. And so as
they supped it chanced that, hearing of the strange people who had come
into the town, there entered some soldiers who had fought for Penda, and
Feargus knew them quickly. And they eyed him askance. And one of them,
Godfree by name, had been a captain in Feargus’s host in former days, and
he had intelligence beyond the others, though his temper was evil. This
man now came and stood near to them with knitted brow, as though thinking
to solve some difficulty, and so till Feargus spoke; when he heard his
voice the man started as though the earth had opened at his feet. Then
with mouth agape and eyes starting from their sockets he backed to the
door. All those that stood there looked on amazed.
“What seest thou?” said they.
“I see the ghost of him who betrayed our king, the mighty Penda,” he
gasped, “Feargus the Pict; but it is surely no ghost—it is Feargus, men.
Slay him, the traitor! Down with him!”
Then Torfrida thought that all was lost, but Feargus arose with a bound
and won the door before they could reach it and there stood with bow
drawn, but he wished not to slay any, for he well knew that they would
then follow him, and, turning to Torfrida, he said in Gaelic, “Canst
thou run and fetch the beasts to the door; no danger thou wilt meet, for
none shall leave this hostel to tell those without till thou returnest.”
“That can I,” said Torfrida, and soon came back with the beasts and
waited without. When Feargus reached the door and faced the men who were
for leaving the hostel, his mighty bow drawn and a huge wooden table
standing before him as a barrier, the captain, Godfree, stayed in his
course, so likewise the others, looking to him for the lead. Godfree well
knew the strength of Feargus and what things he had done, and the fame
of him held the others in awe also. For they knew that though they might
slay him, there would be few of their company left after it was done.
Then said he, “Hearken to me—never did Feargus betray Penda, but it is of
common knowledge and was witnessed by many that he met the prince Osbert
in a wood, and albeit he wished not to fight lest he should be too late
to come up and keep tryst with Penda, Osbert forced him to it, and so the
king failed for lack of men. Never did I betray him, for that I loved the
king.”
“He lies,” roared Godfree, recovering himself. “He hath ruined Mercia,”
and then they all came forward clamouring, and so great was the noise
that the townspeople came out and lined the road. Then Feargus knew
that he must wait no longer, but strode through the door, and it had
hardly closed on the heel of him ere he was astride his horse, and the
two dashed down the street midst a shower of stones from the houses. As
no one knew save the men behind why they fled or who they were no one
stopped them, so they won the moor outside the town, and there drew up.
Then Feargus turned to Torfrida and sighed, for she looked pale for want
of rest, and frightened, and he took her by the hand, saying, “Once more,
Torfrida. Thanks to thee.”
“Nay, without thy quickness and thy courage I could have done nothing.”
“And now, Torfrida, I see not which way there is left for us to turn;
for if the North Angles knew me so also will the men of Elmet[7] and
Northumbria. But an we do not enter Northumbria there remains nothing but
the wilds that lie to the north-west in South Strathclyde and Cumbria,
where no man is, nor food, nor bield nor bush to shelter us from the
wind, nor anything but moss and moor. We have been many days in coming
this little gate, and if the rest of the way is as long to tread, then
will winter be upon us ere we enter the wild country.”
“Then let us still try Northumbria, for there at least are men and women
and we may get through.”
“So shall it be, Torfrida, an thou art so brave to bear the risk.”