Now wore away the days of March, and all was peaceable, but no tidings
came from Sir Mark, nor forsooth was any looked for so early. The Blue
Knight had left but three score of men-at-arms at Brookside, under an
ancient knight who had won his spurs with hard fighting and was as
wise of war as may be, but whose strength was worn away somewhat. But
this seemed of little import, as none looked for any war, save it
might be the riding of a band of strong-thieves, who would scarce try
the tall ramparts of Brookside, or had been speedily thrust aside had
they so done. Yet did the seneschal look well to his gates, which were
shut save for a few hours midmost of the day, and kept good watch and
ward day-long and night-long. And few people were suffered to enter
the Castle, save the neighbours who were well known, or now and again
a wandering chapman; but such an one was ever put out a-gates before
sunset: and no one of these even made a show of giving any news of the
country of the war. But midmost of April came some news, such as it
was, to wit that the Barons' League had driven him of Longshaw out of
the field by the mere terror of their host and the wind of its
banners, and he had shut himself up in Longshaw, whereto they were
drawing speedily, and that the King of the City of the Sundering Flood
had brought his host into the field to help the Barons. But when the
Castle-folk heard this they doubted not but that the Lord of Longshaw
was undone, and they were exceeding joyous thereof. But the Maiden,
though she might hope the more to see her friend come back whole and
sound, was unmerry at the tidings, she could scarce tell for why;
neither did the Carline blame her therefore.
But again, almost in the face of May, chapmen more than two or three
brought tidings, to wit that all was done: Longshaw taken and ruined,
the warriors thereof slain or scattered, and Sir Godrick brought to
the heading-block in the King's City. Now great indeed was the joy in
Brookside, and great joy and feast they made; and the Lady of the
Castle sat at the high-table, clad in golden garments, at a glorious
banquet which was held every night of the octave of the day when they
had first heard these good tidings. But when the Carline saw the
sadness of the Maiden because of it, she said to her: "Nay, nay, my
child, put on a good countenance and up with thine heart. For every
tale is good till the next one is told; and I must tell thee that
these last two who had one in their mouths, the chapman and the canon
to wit, I questioned them closely, first the two together, and then
each one by himself, and methought I could see that they knew little
more about it than we do, and were but carrying about empty hearsay,
ever making the most of what they deemed we and they would like the
best to hear. I would rather they had told us once more of the Aunturs
of King Arthur and Sir Gawain."
The Maiden smiled at her word, and her heart was lightened, for it
pleased her nought to think that this good Knight, Sir Godrick, whom
her friend had so bepraised to her, should have been overcome and led
to death by his foemen. Now after this they gat no tidings of any
account till May was well on; and then none at all a long while, till
at last June was come, and folk about the Castle were getting fearful,
lest something untoward had befallen.
At last, on a hot and dry afternoon of June, when the Carline and the
Maiden were together and had gotten leave to be without the gate, they
saw a horseman come riding from the wood on the other side of the
gate, with his head turned toward the Castle, and then another, and
then two more. And as they drew nigher, they could see that these were
gaunt and tattered and in evil array, and they rode very slowly. And
those two beheld them, and saw that no more came, and they wondered
what they were. But at last, when they were close on the bridge, they
saw only too well by the rags of their array and by the faces of two
of them, whom they knew, that these were men-at-arms of Brookside. And
the women stood still astonied and wist not what to do; and the men
also drew up to them and then abode, and one, he whom they knew the
best, spake to them in a harsh voice and said: "God knows we have
striven hard to save our lives this long while past, that there might
be one or two left to tell the tale; but now it is not so sure but
that up there they will slay us for coming home alive. But we heed
not, for we be foul like beasts and hungry like beasts and weary like
beasts. Let the beasts pass who were once men of Brookside."
"Poor men," said the Maiden kindly, "ye need not wound your lips by
telling me the tale, for I know it, to wit the others are all slain
and perished, and that your lord fell with all valiance in the heat of
the battle. O woe is me for my friend!" And she wept.
But the man stared at her wildly, as if he were astonied to hear the
unused sweetness of her voice. But she said: "Come now, and let me
lead thee to thy fellows; maybe they will be astir now." So she put
her hand on his bridle to lead him, and he followed without naysay,
and the others after him. And they passed in under the gate; and by
this time there were a score or more folk in the court, for they had
seen the riding of men from the walls or windows. But lo, now the
Maiden, when she looked about for the Carline, might see her nowhere.
But even therewith came one man and another thronging about those
runaways, and some crying out, Tell all, tell at once! and blubbering
outright, bearded men though they were; and some standing stockstill
and staring straight before them in the extremity of their overthrow.
And amidst of all this the Maiden was shoved aside and swept out of
the way, till presently she felt a hand laid on her shoulder, and
found it was the Carline, who spake: "Come out now amidst all this
hubbub ere some one think of it to shut the gates. Come speedily." And
they came outside the gate, and found none there, but two horses, and
saddle-bags and a pack upon each. And the Carline said: "Mount now,
and we will go as thy dead friend bade us; for none may stay us now,
and these horses are our very own. Now will we ride away, tonight it
may be as far as the Grey Sisters, but tomorrow further."