HOW BELTANE FOUGHT FOR ONE MELLENT THAT WAS A WITCH.
Barham Broom was gay with the stir of flags and streamers, where, above
broidered pavilion and silken tent, pennons and banderoles, penoncels
and gonfalons fluttered and flew, beyond which long lines of smaller
tents stretched away north and south, east and west, and made up the
camp of my lord Duke Ivo.
Beyond the confines of this great and goodly camp the lists had been
formed, and here from earliest dawn a great concourse had been
gathering; villein and vassal, serf and freedman from town and village:
noble lords and ladies fair from castle hall and perfumed bower, all
were here, for to-day a witch was to die--to-day, from her tortured
flesh the flame was to drive forth and exorcize, once and for all, the
demon who possessed her, by whose vile aid she wrought her charms and
spells. So country wenches pushed and strove amid the throng, and
dainty ladies leaned from canopied galleries to shudder with dread or
trill soft laughter; but each and every stared at one who stood alone,
'twixt armed guards, so young and fair and pale within her bonds, oft
turning piteous face to heaven or looking with quailing eye where stake
and chain and faggot menaced her with awful doom. And ever the kindly
sun rose high and higher, and ever the staring concourse grew.
Now, of a sudden the clarions rang out a point of war, and all voices
were hushed, as, forth into the lists, upon his richly-caparisoned
charger, my lord Duke Ivo rode, followed by his chiefest lords and
barons; and as he rode, he smiled to himself full oft as one that
meditates a hidden jest. Being come where the witch stood, her
disordered garments rent by vicious handling, striving to veil her
beauty in her long, dark hair, my lord Duke reined in his pawing steed
to sit a while and look down at her 'neath sleepy lids; and, ever as he
looked, his arching nostrils fluttered above curling lip, and ever he
fingered his long, blue-shaven chin.
"Alack!" cried he at last, "'tis a comely wench, and full young,
methinks, to die so soon! But witchcraft is a deadly sin, abhorred by
man and hateful unto God--"
"My lord--my lord," spake the witch swift and passionate yet trembling
'neath his sleepy gaze, "thou knowest I am no witch indeed--thou
knowest--"
"Nay, nay," quoth the Duke, shaking his head, and coming more near he
stooped and spake her, low-voiced, "nay, she thou would'st name was a
lady proud, soft and white, with hair bright and glorious as the sun--
in sooth a fair lady--yet something too ambitious. But thou, though of
her size and shape, art of a dark and swarthy hue and thy hair black,
meseemeth. Of a verity thou art only the witch Mellent, and so, by
reason of thy sun-browned skin and raven hair--aye, and for thy
witchcraft--thou, alack! must die--unless thou find thee a champion.
Verily I fear me no man will dare take up thy cause, for Sir Gilles is
a lusty man and famous at the joust. Moreover--my will is known in the
matter, so do I fear there none shall come to fight on thy behalf.
Alack! that one should die so young!"
"Ah, my lord--my lord Ivo," she whispered, eager and breathless, "show
me a little mercy. For that, to be thy Duchess, I denied thee thy
desire in the past, let me now be prisoned all my days, an it be thy
will--but give me not to the fire--ah, God--not the fire! Pity--pity
me for what I did for thee--be merciful--"
"Did, wench--did?" quoth the Duke, gently. "Now when spake I with witch
ere this? 'Tis true there was a lady--something of thy seeming--who, to
gain much, promised much, and--achieved me nothing. So now do I know
thee far one Mellent, a notable witch, that shall this day instead of
ducal crown, wear crown of flame. Alack!--and so, farewell!"
Thus speaking, my lord Duke rode on up the lists, where stood certain
noble lords to hold his stirrup and aid him to earth; so mounted he to
his place 'neath broidered canopy, and many a fair cheek blanched, and
many a stout knight faltered in his speech, beholding that slow-creeping,
stealthy smile and the twitch of those thin nostrils.
Now once again the trumpet blew, and a herald stepped forth:
"God save ye, lord Duke," he cried, "ye noble lords and ladies fair--
good people all, God save ye. Know that before you here assembled, hath
been brought one Mellent--that hath been denounced a notable witch and
sorceress, who, by her fiendish arts and by the aid of demons foul and
damned, doth seek the hurt of our lord the Duke, whom God and the
saints defend. Forasmuch as this witch, yclept Mellent, did, by her
unhallowed spells and magic, compass and bring about the escape from
close duress of one Beltane, a notable outlaw, malefactor and enemy to
our lord the Duke; and whereas she did also by aid of charms,
incantations and the like devilish practices, contrive the sack,
burning and total destruction of my lord Duke's good and fair castle of
Garthlaxton upon the March. Now therefore it is adjudged that she be
taken and her body burned to ashes here before you. All of which
charges have been set forth and sworn to by this right noble lord and
gallant knight Sir Gilles of Brandonmere--behold him here in person."
Hereupon, while the trumpets brayed a flourish and fanfare, forth rode
Sir Gilles upon a mighty charger, a grim and warlike figure in his
shining mail and blazoned surcoat, his ponderous, crested war-helm
closed, his long shield covering him from shoulder to stirrup, and his
lance-point twinkling on high.
Then spake again the herald loud and clear: "Good people all, behold
Sir Gilles of Brandonmere, who cometh here before you prepared to
maintain the truth and justice of the charges he hath made--unto the
death, 'gainst any man soever, on horse or on foot, with lance,
battle-axe or sword. Now if there be any here do know this witch Mellent
for innocent, if there be any here dare adventure his body for her
innocence and run the peril of mortal combat with Sir Gilles, let him
now stand forth."
And immediately the trumpets sounded a challenge. Thereafter the herald
paced slowly round the lists, and behind him rode Sir Gilles, his
blazon of the three stooping falcons plain for all men to see, on
gleaming shield and surcoat.
North and south, and east and west the challenge was repeated, and
after each the trumpet sounded a warlike flourish, yet no horseman
paced forth and no man leapt the barriers; and the witch Mellent
drooped pale and trembling betwixt her warders. But, of a sudden she
opened swooning eyes and lifted her heavy head; for, from the distant
woods, faint as yet and far, a horn brayed hoarsely--three notes,
thrice repeated, defiant and warlike. And now, among the swaying
crowds rose a hum that grew and grew, while ever and anon the horn rang
out, fiercely winded--and ever it sounded nearer: until, of a sudden,
out from the trees afar, two horsemen galloped, their harness bright
in the sunshine, helm and lance-point twinkling, who, spurring knee
and knee, thundered over the ling; while every tongue grew hushed, and
every eye turned to mark their swift career.
Tall were these men and lusty, bedight from head to foot in glistening
mail, alike at all points save that one bare neither shield nor lance,
and 'neath his open bascinet showed a face brown and comely, whereas
his companion rode, his long shield flashing in the sun, his head and
face hid by reason of his ponderous, close-shut casque. Swift they
rode, the throng parting before them; knee and knee together they leapt
the palisade, and reining in their horses, paced down the lists and
halted before the pale and trembling captive. Then spake the knight,
harsh-voiced behind his vizor:
"Sound, Roger!"
Forthwith the black-haired, ruddy man set a hunting horn to his lips,
and blew thereon a flourish so loud and shrill as made the very welkin
ring.
Now came pursuivants and the chief herald, which last made inquisition
thus:
"Sir Knight, crest hast thou none, nor on thy shield device, so do I
demand name and rank of thee, who thus in knightly guise doth give this
bold defiance, and wherefore ye ride armed at points. Pronounce,
messire!"
Then spake the tall knight loud and fierce, his voice deep-booming
within the hollow of his closed casque.
"Name and rank have I laid by for the nonce, until I shall have
achieved a certain vow, but of noble blood am I and kin unto the
greatest--this do I swear by Holy Rood. To-day am I hither come in arms
to do battle on behalf of yon innocent maid, and to maintain her
innocence so long as strength abide. And furthermore, here before ye
all and every, I do proclaim Sir Gilles of Brandonmere a shame and
reproach unto his order. To all the world I do proclaim him rogue and
thief and wilful liar, the which (God willing) I will here prove upon
his vile body. So now let there be an end of words. Sound, Roger!"
Hereupon he of the ruddy cheek clapped horn to lip and blew amain until
his cheek grew redder yet, what time the heralds and pursuivants and
marshals of the field debated together if it were lawful for a nameless
knight to couch lance 'gainst one of noble blood. But now came Sir
Gilles himself, choking with rage, and fuming in his harness.
"Ha, thou nameless dog!" cried he, brandishing his heavy lance, "be
thou serf or noble, art an errant liar--so will I slay thee out of
hand!" Thus saying, he reined round the great roan stallion he
bestrode, and galloped to one end of the lists. Now spake Black Roger
low-voiced, and his hand shook upon his bridle:
"Master, now do I fear for thee. Sir Gilles is a mighty jouster and
skilled withal, moreover he rideth his famous horse Mars--a noble beast
and fresh, while thine is something wearied. And then, master, direst
of all, she thou would'st champion is a witch--"
"That worketh no evil by day, Roger. So do I charge thee, whatsoe'er
betide, look to the maid, take her across thy saddle and strive to
bring her to safety. As for me, I will now with might and main seek to
make an end of Sir Gilles of Brandonmere."
So saying, Beltane rode to the opposite extremity of the lists.
And now, while the trumpets blared, the two knights took their ground,
Sir Gilles resplendent in lofty crest and emblazoned surcoat, the three
stooping falcons conspicuous on his shield, his mighty roan charger
pawing the ling with impatient hoof; his opponent, a gleaming figure
astride a tall black horse, his round-topped casque unadorned by plume
or crest. So awhile they remained, very still and silent, what time a
single trumpet spake, whereat--behold! the two long lances sank feutred
to the charge, the broad shields flashed, glittered and were still
again; and from that great concourse a sound went up--a hum, that
swelled, and so was gone.
The maid Mellent had sunk upon her knees and was praying desperate
prayers with face upturned to heaven; but none was there to mark her
now amid that silent gathering--all eyes were strained to watch those
grim and silent horsemen that fronted each other, the length of the
lists between; even Duke Ivo, leaning on lazy elbow, looked with
glowing eye and slow-flushing cheek, ere he let fall his truncheon.
And, on the instant, shrill and fierce the trumpets brayed, and on the
instant each knight struck spurs, the powerful horses reared, plunged,
and sprang away at speed. Fast and faster they galloped, their riders
low-stooped above the high-peaked saddles, shields addressed and lances
steady, with pounding hooves that sent the turves a-flying, with
gleaming helms and deadly lance-points a-twinkle; fast and ever faster
they thundered down upon each other, till, with a sudden direful crash,
they met in full career with a splintering of well-aimed lances, a
lashing of wild hooves, a rearing of powerful horses, staggering and
reeling beneath the shock. And now a thunderous cry went up, for the
tall black horse, plunging and snorting, went down rolling upon the
sward. But his rider had leapt clear and, stumbling to his feet, stood
swaying unsteadily, faint and dazed with the blow of Sir Gilles' lance
that had borne down the great black horse and torn the heavy casque
from his head. So stood Beltane, unhelmed, staring dazedly from heaving
earth to reeling heaven; yet, of a sudden, shook aloft the fragment of
his splintered lance and laughed fierce and loud, to behold, 'twixt
reeling earth and sky, a great roan stallion that foamed upon his bit
'neath sharp-drawn rein, as, swaying sideways from the lofty saddle,
Sir Gilles of Brandonmere crashed to earth, transfixed through shield
and hauberk, through breast and back, upon the shaft of a broken lance.
High over him leapt Beltane, to catch the roan's loose bridle, to swing
himself up, and so, with stirrups flying and amid a sudden clamour of
roaring voices, to thunder down the lists where Roger's heavy sword
flashed, as smiting right and left, he stooped and swung the maid
Mellent before him.
"Ride, Roger--ride! Spur--spur!" shouted Beltane above the gathering
din, and shouting, drew his sword, for now before them, steel glittered
and cries rang upon the air:
"'Tis Beltane the outlaw! Seize him--slay him! 'Tis the outlaw!"
But knee and knee, with loose rein and goading spur rode they, and
nought could avail and none were quick enough to stay that headlong
gallop; side by side they thundered over the ling, and knee and knee
they leapt the barrier, bursting through bewildered soldiery,
scattering frighted country-folk, and so away, over gorse and heather
and with arrows, drawn at a venture, whistling by them. Betimes they
reached the shelter of the woods, and turning, Beltane beheld a
confusion of armed men, a-horse and a-foot, what time borne upon the
air came a sound hoarse and menacing, a sound dreadful to hear--the
sound of the hue and cry.