Читать книгу The Last of the Vikings - John Bowling - Страница 8

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"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 à 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 manœuvre 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.