HOW THE FOREST FOUGHT FOR THEM
A hum upon the night-wind, lost, ever and anon, in wailing gust, yet a
hum that never ceased; a sound that grew and grew, loud and ever more
loud until it seemed to fill the very night, a dreadful sound, ominous
and threatening, a sound to shake the boldest heart--the ring and
tramp of an armed, oncoming multitude.
Now, lying amid the leaves and fern with Cnut and the small man Prat
beside him. Beltane presently espied certain figures moving in the
valley below, stealthy figures that were men of Sir Rollo's van-ward.
Soft-creeping they approached the deserted camp, soft-creeping they
entered it; and suddenly their trumpets brayed loud and long, and,
dying away, gave place to the ring and trampling thunder of the
advancing host.
On they came, knights and men-at-arms, rank upon rank, company by
company, until the valley seemed full of the dull gleam of their armour
and the air rang loud with clash and jingle and the trample of
countless hooves. Yet still they came, horsemen and foot-men, and ever
the sound of them waxed upon the air, a harsh, confused din--and ever,
from the glooming woods above, Death stared down on them.
And now the trumpets blew amain, lights flickered and flared, as one by
one, fires were lighted whose red glow flashed back from many a helm
and shield and breast-plate, from broad gisarm and twinkling
lance-point, what time, above the confused hum, above stamping hooves
and clashing armour, voices shouted hoarse commands.
So, little by little, from chaos order was wrought, pack-horse and
charger were led away to be watered and picketed and gleaming figures
sank wearily about the many camp-fires where food was already
preparing. In a while, from the stir of the camp, bright with its many
watch-fires, divers small groups of men were detached, and, pike and
gisarm on shoulder, began to mount toward the forest at varying
points.
Hereupon, Beltane reached out in the dark and touched the small man
Prat the Archer. Quoth he:
"Hither come their outposts, go now and bring up my company,--and bid
them come silently!"
Forthwith Prat sank down among the fern and was gone, while Beltane
watched, keen-eyed, where four men of Sir Hollo's outposts climbed the
slope hard by. And one was singing, and one was cursing, and two were
quarrelling, and all four, Beltane judged, were men aweary with long
marching. Thus, singing, cursing, quarrelling, came they to keep their
ward within these dark and silent woods, crashing through the
underbrush careless of their going and all unheeding the sombre,
stealthy forms that rose up so silently behind them and before from
brush and brake and thicket, creeping figures that moved only when the
night-wind moaned in the shivering leaves.
Beltane's dagger was out and he rose up from the fern, crouched and
strung for action--but from the gloom near by rose a sudden, strange
flurry amid the leaves, a whimpering sound evil to hear and swiftly
ended, a groan, a cry choked to strangling gasp and thereafter--
silence, save for the fitful wailing of the wind--a long, breathless
pause; then, high and clear rose the cry of an owl thrice repeated, and
presently small Prat was beside him in the fern again.
"Lord," said he softly, albeit panting a little, "these men were fools!
We do but wait our comrades' signals now." And he fell to cleansing his
dagger-blade carefully with a handful of bracken.
"Ha--list ye!" whispered Cnut, "there sounds Ulf's warning, methinks!"
And from the gloom on their left a frog croaked hoarsely.
A hundred watch-fires blazed in the valley below and around each fire
armour glittered; little by little the great camp grew to silence and
rest until nought was heard but the stamp and snorting of the many
horses and the cries of the sentinels below. But ever dagger in hand
Beltane strained eyes and ears northward across the valley, while big
Cnut bit his nails and wriggled beside him in the bracken, and small
Prat softly snapped his fingers; so waited they with ears on the
stretch and eyes that glared ever to the north.
At last, faint and far across the valley, rose the doleful cry of a
curlew thrice repeated, the which was answered from the east by the
hooting of an owl, which again was caught up like an echo, and repeated
thrice upon their right.
Then Beltane sheathed his dagger.
"Look," said he, "Cnut--Prat, look north and tell me what ye see!"
"Fire, my lord!" quoth Prat. "Ha! it burneth well--see, see how it
spreads!"
"And there again--in the east," said Cnut, "Oho! Jenkyn is busy--look,
master!"
"Aye, and Roger too!" said Beltane, grim-lipped, "our ring of fire is
well-nigh complete--it lacketh but for us and Ulf--to work, then!"
Came the sound of flint meeting steel--a sound that spread along the
ranks that lay unseen beyond Prat and Cnut. And behold--a spark! a
glow! a little flame that died down, leapt up, caught upon dry grass
and bracken, seized upon crackling twigs, flared up high and ever
fiercer--a devouring flame, hungry and yellow-tongued that licked along
the earth--a vengeful flame, pitiless and unrelenting--a host of fiery
demons that leapt and danced with crackling laughter changing little by
little to an angry roar that was the voice of awful doom.
Now of a sudden above the hiss of flame, from the valley of Brand a cry
went up--a shout--a roar of fear and amaze and thereafter rose a wild
clamour; a babel inarticulate, split, ever and anon, by frantic
trumpet-blast. But ever the dreadful hubbub waxed and grew, shrieks and
cries and the screaming of maddened horses with the awful, rolling
thunder of their fierce-galloping hooves!
Within that valley of doom Death was abroad already, Death in many dire
shapes. Proud knights, doughty archers and men-at-arms who had fronted
death unmoved on many a stricken field, wept aloud and crouched upon
their knees and screamed--but not so loud as those wild and maddened
horses, that, bursting all bonds asunder, reared and leapt with lashing
hooves, and, choked with rolling smoke-clouds, blinded by flame,
plunged headlong through and over the doomed camp, wave upon wave of
wild-flung heads and tossing manes. On they came, with nought to let or
stay them, their wild hooves trampling down hut of osier and silken
tent, spurning the trembling earth and filling the air with flying
clods; and wheresoever they galloped there was flame to meet them, so
swerved they, screaming their terror and fled round and round within
the valley. So raced they blindly to and fro and back and forth,
trampling down, maiming and mangling 'neath reddened, cruel hooves all
and every that chanced to lie athwart their wild career: on and ever on
they galloped until sobbing, panting, they fell, to be crushed 'neath
the thundering hooves behind.
Within the little valley of Brand Death was rife in many and awful
shapes that no eye might see, for the many watch-fires were scattered
and trampled out; but up from that pit of doom rose shrieks and cries
and many hateful sounds--sounds to pierce the brain and ring there
everlastingly.
Thus Beltane, marching swift to the south at the head of his three
hundred foresters, heard nought of their joyful acclaim, heeded not
their triumph, saw nought of watchful Roger's troubled glances, but
went with head bowed low, with pallid cheek and eyes wide-staring, for
he saw yet again the fierce leap of those merciless flames and in his
ears rang the screams and cries of Sir Rollo's proud chivalry.