STORM CLOUDS.
"Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office; and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remembered knolling a departed friend."
Shakespeare.
"Whilst the cooks are busy with our spoil, Beowulf, I propose we
practise at the joust," said Oswald. "Rumour hath it this Count William,
of Normandy, is collecting an army in order to eject our rightful Saxon
king, Harold, from the throne, and ere long we may have these Norman
knights tilting through the ranks of our simple yeomen, who are unused
to this method of warfare; and King Harold and his brothers would be
pleased to have sturdy comrades who would be a match for the Norman at
his own weapons," remarked Oswald.
"Leave the joust to Norman fops, say I, neighbour Oswald, and their
tilting methods to our hardy pikemen, who will know how to deal with
them, never fear. The honest Saxon broadsword is a match for any weapon,
I warrant you. As for this new-fangled Norman joust, as they call it,
why I despise it. Playing at war, with women looking on, and waving
their 'kerchiefs, and simpering, and whimpering about--bah! I wonder
you'll meddle with such stuff, neighbour!" growled Beowulf
contemptuously.
"Thank you, Beowulf, for your compliments, but if I am permitted to
witness your feat of arms, I'll endeavour not to 'simper and whimper
about' if it annoys you. But you men folk can find nothing better to do
than play at war, I know, and therefore I rule it shall be with both the
broadsword and lance," said Ethel.
"Agreed!" cried Oswald; "and our fair cousin Ethel shall be queen of
beauty _a la joute_."
"Mind you don't make a fool or a dolt of yourself, neighbour Oswald,
with your Norman fooleries. But I'll humour you in your folly for the
sake of a bout with the broadsword, in honest Saxon fashion," growled
Beowulf.
When they reached the hall the two young men retired to the armoury, and
presently reappeared clad in complete armour, several lances being borne
by the housecarles. The pair then sprang into their saddles, and Oswald,
partly to joke his opponent, careened round in a circle, mimicking the
gallantry of the Normans, displaying the paces of his charger and his
skill in horsemanship. As he passed Ethel, in mock seriousness he dipped
the point of his lance in salutation of her as queen of beauty. Ethel
endeavoured to disguise it, but the crimson blushes suffused her
countenance for an instant; but there was a quick revolt of maidenly
dignity; her eye flashed, and her foot beat the ground impatiently, as
she exclaimed under her breath,--"I presume he thinks I am but a child
to tease and joke."
Presently the pair took up a position some twenty paces apart, and
prepared to charge. Ethel, fearful of her brother's temper, which was
most uncertain, cried to them, "Will you remember this is but play, and
see you two don't come to blows in good earnest? for I know by
experience that brother Beowulf flies into a rage with me if I poke fun
at him, and what he will do if you poke him in the ribs with that ugly
weapon, Master Oswald, I know not."
"Go to, wench, your tongue is too ready! You would be better seen
superintending the wenches who are roasting hogsflesh, than wagging your
tongue in the presence of men." Then, turning to his friend and comrade
Oswald, he said, "Now, sir, are you ready? Let us be done with this
Norman folly as soon as maybe."
So they laid their lances in rest, and prepared to tilt. Oswald was much
more tall and lithe than his opponent, and much more skilful in the
handling of his charger. Indeed, it seemed almost as though one mind
animated the pair. Beowulf was rather older, bulkier in build, and
better set up, being twenty-three. But he cherished a deep-rooted
aversion and contempt of the Norman leaven which had been stealing over
the land during the late reign of Edward the Confessor, and his pet
aversion was the mode of warfare current amongst Norman gentlemen; and
so he never practised it, except on occasions like the present.
"Now, sirs," iterated Ethel, still fearful, "and especially you,
Beowulf, don't get mad and knock each other's heads off, I tell you
again!"
"Hold your tongue, chattering magpie, and go inside as I bid you! That
is where petticoated jades like you should be when weapons are about,"
said Beowulf. "Now, come on, sir. If we listen to her she'll prate like
a half-fed fowl by the hour together."
So the tilt commenced, and continued for some time, more in play than in
dead earnest, Oswald showing his superior skill by striking Beowulf how
and where he pleased, at the same time handling his horse so perfectly
that Beowulf found no opportunity of striking him squarely. The rough
knocks which he receives, and his want of skill, are most exasperating
to Beowulf, especially so when at last by a skilful manoeuvre Oswald
flings his charger's flank round, bringing his head broadside on of his
opponent, and then ignominiously tilts him out of his saddle to the
ground. Beowulf sprang to his feet, mad with rage, and shouted,--
"Come down from that perch! I'll soon give you quits with a better
weapon!" and away he marched for a couple of broadswords.
Forgetting her dignity in her anxiety over Beowulf's temper, Ethel
tripped up to Oswald and with girlish freedom grasped his arm. "Now,
Master Oswald, you have driven Beowulf mad, as I thought you would. If I
may use his not very complimentary term, I would say, Will you, to
please a _jade_ like me, take care to come off second best in this
sword-play, if it be only to mollify him? for if you don't I am afraid
he will be quite furious."
Oswald laughed and stroked the fair hair of the maiden as he remarked,
"It is well advised, my bright-eyed little dame; I do believe that fair
face is index to a kindly and wholesome mother-wit."
Presently Beowulf returned with a couple of broadswords, but his temper
had abated nothing in the interval. The quick-witted and irrepressible
Ethel noticed this at once, and she banteringly called out to him, "Now,
brother Beowulf, remember this is only sword-play. Don't go and cut
Master Oswald's head off!"
"What! you are still there, are you, jade? I saw you titter when Master
Oswald pushed me out of the saddle. When I've dealt with him, I'll give
you a taste of an ash sapling, since you won't mend your manners when
told."
Ethel burst into a most provoking, merry laugh. "Thank you, brother
Beowulf, for your good intentions; but haven't I told you many times
before, that ash sapling hasn't grown yet?"
"Go to, you chit, you provoke me past endurance!" and he made for her in
an ungovernable rage; but Ethel turned and fled like a gazelle, and
Beowulf knew by past experience that to catch the fleet-footed maiden
was a hopeless task, so he returned to his sword-play.
The diversion of Beowulf's wrath, however, did good, and especially as
Oswald took Ethel's hint, and was clearly second best. So Beowulf's good
humour was completely restored when Ethel pronounced Oswald victor at
the joust, and Beowulf at sword-play. Then Ethel grasped Beowulf's arm,
and they adjourned to the hall.
"How shocking of you, brother Beowulf, to talk of using an ash sapling
to a young lady! You quite humiliated me in Master Oswald's eyes."
"Now go to, Ethel! If you don't give up teasing me I shall do something
to you I shall have to repent of some time."
"Oh, no, you won't, brother Beowulf, I know better than that," said
Ethel, with true sisterly affection.
The castle, or what is more correct, the hall of the Thane Beowulf made
no pretension to architectural style or beauty. It was like its master,
rough, but stout and of massive build. One saw the stoutness of its
walls by a glance at its deep mullion windows, and its massive doors,
formed of double layers of oak, securely fastened and strengthened by
iron bands and bolts. In the large hall there was set a long table down
the centre, loaded with viands and large jugs of ale. Down each side of
the hall also there were side tables, where the housecarles and villeins
fed. But the centre table was reserved for guests, and the more favoured
retainers of the thane. A glance round the hall told at once that
Beowulf still held by the heathenish customs which his viking ancestors
brought over with them. For, conspicuous everywhere, upon wood and stone
and vessels, were carved the characters and devices of their
superstition, known as runes. Here and there also there looked down upon
the banqueters the carved images of Thor and Woden.
On the thane's right hand sat his daughter Ethel, who, since the death
of her mother many years ago, had become a greatly privileged object of
his affection. On his left sat Oswald, son of a Saxon chieftain who had
extensive lands in a neighbouring valley. At the foot of the table sat
his son, who took his own name of Beowulf.
"I hear you have been out hawking to-day, Ethel girl," said the grizzled
old thane, turning to his daughter.
"Yes, father, brother Beowulf said it wasn't fitting for a girl like me
to go to the boar hunt, and Master Oswald then, to his shame, never
spoke a word in my favour, so I must needs perforce stay at home.
Therefore I went out hawking; for brother Beowulf kindly allows that."
"Ha, ha!" giggled the old thane gleefully; "thou art a wild slip of a
girl; too much wit for honest Beowulf. But curb thy tongue," he
continued, stroking her fair hair. "He means thee well. He is honest, is
Beowulf, and brave too. He will do! He will do! Like his old father
maybe, not overloaded with wit, but honest, and never turned back on
friend or foe."
The banquet proceeded in very hearty fashion, which atoned for its
roughness. But there seldom sat at the thane's table any guest afflicted
with a squeamish appetite. So beef, venison, pork, and sundries, along
with wheaten cake and ale, disappeared at an alarming rate.
Whilst the banquet was proceeding, one of the housecarles drew near and
whispered to the thane that Saxon runners had arrived with messages from
the king which permitted no delay.
"Have them ushered in. Kings will be obeyed," said the thane; "and
truly, if they rule well, honest men will never be slack to obey."
So these messengers were ushered in, and the thane addressed them: "What
be your message, gallant fellows, that will not tarry till we have fed,
and ye yourselves have tasted our hospitality? Speak out, men! we have
no secrets here!"
"If it please you, worthy thane, the king hath sent round the war arrow,
and summons all loyal gentlemen, together with their men-at-arms, to
repair to him at York instantly; for the Danes be landed in the Humber
under King Hardrada. Also, Count William, of Normandy, hath prepared him
a fleet of vessels, a thousand in number, and threatens an invasion of
the southern coasts."
"Ye bear a sorry message, my worthy fellows, truly, but ye have only
done your errand. But if two overladen mountain torrents join their
forces in one pent-up little burn, there follows desolation in their
wake. A sorry day for merry England, this, gentlemen--north and south
together distraught."
Then, addressing his guests and retainers, he said, "My guests are their
own masters in this matter. But the men of my household--my son, my
retainers and vassals--most of us come of viking stock; and it may be
sorry work to march against these Danes. But we live on the land, and we
must defend the land."
Immediately a wild shout of approval greeted that saying.
"Further, these greedy plunderers will treat us as Saxons, nor spare
aught we have of goods or cattle; or even our lives. So in this quarrel
we are Saxons, and we will prove it at the sword's point."
This also was greeted with shouts of approval. So the feast came
abruptly to an end. The guests withdrew, to meet again within a week to
do battle with the Danes at Stanford Bridge, since known as
Battle-bridge, and from thence to Hastings' bloody field.