THEIR ADVENTURES AMONG THE NORTH ENGLISH
So they turned them north again and held on till they came upon a town.
This time, not entering any hostel, they bought food and took it with
them, with fodder for the beasts, and found a small wood that stood
on the outskirts. Feargus here made Torfrida her tent again and set a
fence around about with prickly whin and other bushes and brought the
two beasts inside. And he lay down by his own horse and watched and ever
and again rose and walked round and saw that all was still, but slept
not, such little sleep as he got being by day when Torfrida could sit
watching. So it fell that he was in sore need of rest and they stayed
there three days. As soon as morning broke Torfrida would rise and go
outside and watch while Feargus fell to sleeping, and sweet was that
rest to him. On the fourth day while Torfrida was watching she noticed
that some men of the village were looking down upon them. At length,
seeing no one stirring, they drew nearer and beheld Feargus, and gazed at
him, agape at his thew and sinew.
“Now, good master, tell us what manner of man is this, for never yet saw
we the like of him—surely he is more of warrior than of leech.”
“Go ye not too near unto him, lest ye disturb his sleep, for little might
the twain of ye do against him ah ye hurtled with him.”
“Nay, young master, but we are many; he is one.”
“Nay, I see but two of ye.”
“Aye, but others fill the forest and they have sent us to ask of him
whether it be true as they say, that he is Feargus through whom king
Penda was slain, for so we are told by men of the North English.”
Then Torfrida turned and went within the barrier, saying, “Surely he will
best answer you himself.” And so she said to Feargus in Gaelic, “Arise,
beloved one, for our troubles seem but begun; arise and lift with thee
thy bow with arrow ready, for our foes are about us on every hand. Safer
I doubt we would be among the wolves of the west than here.”
Then Feargus arose and stood before his enemies.
“What dost want?” said he, “that I may not be left in peace here in the
greenwood?”
“They say thou art Feargus the Pict, the captain of king Penda.”
“And what if I be Feargus: what is’t that I owe thee?—nothing. Forget ye
not that Osbert would not wait but forced me to fight, and so we both
broke tryst with the king at the last, yet I served him right well—as
well as the best of ye his own kin; and my men, who knew that Feargus
would never desert his master, thought me dead and all died for Penda and
stood to him saving his name when his own Mercians fled and left him. And
what did Feargus himself do? Did not the king say that he it was who won
the fight with king Sigmund by Trent water and at Mansfield town, and he
had no small share in the victory at Camulodunum over king Anna of the
East Anglians. So what is’t that he owes ye?”
“Aye, but Feargus lost the cause at the last, so that all his deeds were
of little profit. He is a traitor and we will slay him.”
“Then gather all thy comrades that are about the forest together, and
when ye are all gathered then hear me; and if I cannot prevail on ye, ye
must slay me.”
“Nay, we will not gather them together, lest they being withdrawn ye
might escape.”
“Then move ye not a hand but set ye your minds in order.”
“And why so, master?”
“Because an ye call not your comrades together they shall call not you
so sound will ye both sleep, for these arrows shall fly to the hearts of
ye. Ye wot Feargus was ever a man of his word save only that once when he
failed through fate to tryst with Penda. Nay, an ye call for help or move
ye shall die e’er help can reach ye.”
“Spare us, noble Feargus, for we are men who have wives and young bairns.”
“Gather your townsmen or die ere this stone reaches earth again, and if
any man of yours lifts bow or brand I will slay thee,” said he, throwing
high a great pebble.
“We will do as ye command,” said they.
So they wound their horns and in from every quarter came soldiers and
villagers, each man armed to the teeth, for as Feargus had seen, they
had surrounded them and left to the chief man of the town the work of
bearding the noble quarry. Then, when they were all gathered, Feargus,
with bow stretched, whistled soft, and as if by his own will his great
white horse arose and came to him, and then said he to Torfrida in the
Gaelic, “Now run to thy beast and mount; leap then the fence and ride
straight into the forest, the road is clear, and when thou canst just see
me in the distance, wait, that I may not lose thee.”
Then before the astonished soldiers could stir she leapt the bushes in
the rear, gathering her plaid and tent up as she went, and made for the
wood, and in a moment was out of sight. There was a slight movement among
the villagers, and some shouted, “Take him, he will escape.” But Feargus
drew back the string of that mighty bow till the chief man’s son cried,
“Stay, stay, or he will slay my father!” while the old man trembled.
Then Torfrida blew her whistle, and promptly Feargus leapt on to his
horse and, sitting with back to the beast’s head, kept his arrow fixed
on the old man. Then, speaking a word to the beast, it dashed through
the fence in the track of its fellow; and the angry villagers saw them
depart, but might not follow for fear of that terrible bow. When he had
quite disappeared they took horse and lifted horn and rode after him, for
greatly were they put to shame at being outwitted through fear for one
man. So they rode and ran and raised a great hue and cry. But Feargus and
Torfrida rode on nor stopped until Torfrida was faint for very weariness.
Then said Feargus, “Here let us draw up, for thou art much distressed,
and so withal are the poor beasts. To-morrow we must on again—little rest
is there for us or them.” He gathered whin in the open and other bushes
and made a fence and put Torfrida and also the beasts within, kindling a
fire to scare the wild creatures. Then he went forth to gather food for
the horses, sweet grasses, and corn which he had bought in the village.
And he came upon a deer and shot it and cut it up and cooked it, and they
ate with great heartiness. And the beasts lay still beside him, so tame
were they grown, and so keen were their ears they could tell from afar
the coming of any wild creature, and then Feargus would rise up with his
sword and lift a faggot to scare it. But so keen did Feargus himself
soon become that no sound or mark escaped him. So it was that he kept
out of the track of men, until after wandering through mire and moss
they drew out of the lands of the North English, thinking to enter the
great wild which lay between Lune and Wharfe and stretched well nigh to
Solway and the western seaboard. And they struck across the moorlands of
Wharfe towards Cumbria, but so heavy was the road that the days came and
went and saw them but little on their path. Oft-times they despaired of
ever seeing Alban, and their hearts were heavy when they thought of all
the gate they had yet to go. And ever the winter drew nearer and filled
Feargus with dread. So they strayed among the glens, and every night he
would find a place of safety for Torfrida. Sometimes he would make her
a tent among the whins and bracken, sometimes would stretch over the
heather the skins of the many animals he had slain; at times in caves or
’mongst the rocks of some mountain or cataract he stretched her tent on
stakes of wood and there she would sleep serene. Then he would set forth
on foot in search of food. So on they sped, lying now on the bare brae
side, now in wild glens, ever faring northward. And the nights grew cold
and the snell wind swept keen up the glens or over the bleak braes, and
now the wolves and wild beasts drew nearer at night, for the frost fell
upon the earth and left them scant of food.