In the Days of Chivalry: A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince by Everett-Green (best romantic books to read TXT) 📖

and battered accoutrements, with the brilliant appearance of the little band of soldiers standing on the opposite side of the moat, their armour shining in the sunlight, their steeds well fed and well groomed, arching their necks and pawing the ground, every man and every horse showing plainly that they came from a region of abundance of good things; whilst the military precision of their aspect showed equally well that they would be antagonists of no insignificant calibre, if the moment should come when they were transformed from friends to foes.

Constanza saw the wavering and hesitation amongst her uncle's men. She well knew their discontent at their own lot, their fearful distrust of their lord. She knew, too, that it was probably some fear of treachery alone that withheld them from making cause at once with the De Brocas -- treachery having been only too much practised amongst them by their own fierce master -- and again her voice rang out clear and sweet.

"Men, listen again to me. I speak to counsel you for your good; for fierce and cruel as ye have been to your foes, ye have ever been kind and gentle to me when I was with you in these walls. What think ye to gain by defying the great King of England? Think ye that he will spare you if ye arouse him to anger by impotent resistance? What more could King have done for you than send to be your lord a noble Gascon knight; one of your own race and language; one who, as ye all must know, has a far better right to hold these lands than any of the race of Navailles? Here before you stands Sir Gaston de Brocas, offering you place in his service if ye will but swear to him that allegiance he has the right to claim. The offer is made in clemency and mercy, because he would not that any should perish in futile resistance. Men, ye know that he comes to this place with the King's mandate that Saut be given up to him. If it be not peaceably surrendered, what think ye will happen next?

"I will tell you. Ye have heard of the Prince of Wales, son of the Roy Outremer; doubtless even to these walls has come the news of that triumphal march of his, where cities have surrendered or ransomed themselves to him, and nothing has been able to stay the might of his conquering arm. That noble Prince and valiant soldier is now not far away. We have come from his presence, and are here with his knowledge and sanction. If we win you over, and gain peaceable possession of these walls, good; no harm will befall any living creature within them. But if ye prove obdurate; if ye will not listen to the voice of reason; if ye still hold with rebellious defiance to the lord ye have served, and who has shown himself so little worthy of your service, then will the Prince and his warriors come with all their wrath and might to inflict chastisement upon you, and take vengeance upon you, as enemies of the King.

"Say, men, how can ye hope to resist the might of the Prince's arm? Say, which will ye do -- be the free servants of Gaston de Brocas, or die like rats in a hole for the sake of yon wicked madman, whose slaves ye have long been? Which shall it be -- a De Brocas or a Navailles?"

Something in this last appeal stirred the hearts of the men. It seemed as though a veil were torn from their eyes. They seemed to see all in a moment the hopelessness of their position as vassals of Navailles, and the folly of attempting resistance to one so infinitely more worthy to be called their lord. It was no stranger coming amongst them -- it was one of the ancient lords of the soil; and the sight of the youthful knight, sitting there on his fine horse, with his fair lady beside him, was enough to stir the pulses and awaken the enthusiasm of an ardent race, even though the nobler instincts had been long sleeping in the breasts of these men. They hated and distrusted their old lord with a hatred he had well merited; and degraded as they had become in his service, they had not yet sunk so low but that they could feel with the keenness of instinct, rather than by any reasoning powers they possessed, that this young knight was a man to be trusted and be loved -- that if they became his vassals they would receive vastly different treatment from any they had received from the Sieur de Navailles.

There was one long minute's pause, whilst looks and whispered words were exchanged, and then a shout arose:

"De Brocas! De Brocas! We will live and die the servants of De Brocas!" whilst at the same moment the drawbridge slowly descended, and Gaston, at the head of his gallant little band, with Raymond and Constanza at his side, rode proudly over the sounding planks, and found himself, for the first time in his life, in the courtyard of the Castle of Saut.

"De Brocas! De Brocas!" shouted the men, all doubt and hesitation done away with in a moment at sight of the gallant show thus made, enthusiasm kindling in every breast as the sweet lady rained smiles and gracious words upon the rough men, who had always had a soft spot in their heart for her; whilst Raymond's earnest eyes and Gaston's courtly and chivalrous bearing were not without effect upon the ruder natures of these lonely residents of Saut. It seemed to them as though they had been invaded by some denizens from another world, and murmurs of wonder and reverent admiration mingled with the cheering with which Gaston de Brocas was received as Lord of Saut.

But there was still one more person to be faced. The men had accepted the sovereignty of a new lord, and were already rejoicing in the escape from the dreaded tyranny they had not had the resolution to shake off unprompted; but there was still the Sieur de Navailles to be dealt with, and impotent as he might be in the desertion of his old followers, it was necessary to see and speak with him, and decide what must be done with the man who was believed by those about him to be little better than a raging maniac.

"Where is your master?" asked Gaston of the old seneschal, who stood at his bridle rein, his eyes wandering from his face to that of Raymond and Constanza and back again; "I marvel that this tumult has not brought him forth."

"The walls are thick," replied the old man, "and he lives for days together in a world of his own, no sound or sight from without penetrating his understanding. Then again he will awaken from his dream, and show us that he has heard and seen far more than we have thought. And if any man amongst us has dropped words that have incensed him -- well, there have been men who have disappeared from amongst us and have never been seen more; and tales are whispered of horrid cries and groans that have issued as from the very bowels of the earth each time following their spiriting away."

Constanza shuddered, and a black frown crossed Gaston's face as he gave one quick glance at his brother, who had so nearly shared that mysterious and terrible doom.

"The man is a veritable fiend. He merits scant mercy at our hands. He has black crimes upon his soul. Seneschal, lead on. Take us to him ye once owned as sovereign lord. I trow ye will none of you lament the day ye transferred your allegiance from yon miscreant to Gaston de Brocas!"

Another cheer, heartier than the last, broke from the lips of all the men. They had been joined now by their comrades within the Castle, and in the sense of freedom from the hateful tyranny of their old master all were rejoicing and filled with enthusiasm.

For once they were free from all fear of treachery. Gaston's own picked band of stalwart veterans was guarantee enough that might as well as right was on the side of the De Brocas. The sight of those well-equipped men-at-arms, all loyal and full of affectionate enthusiasm for their youthful lord, showed these rude retainers how greatly to their advantage would be this change of masters; and before Gaston had dismounted and walked across the courtyard towards the portal of the Castle, he felt, with a swelling of the heart that Raymond well understood, that Saut was indeed his own.

"This is the way to the Sieur de Navailles," said the old seneschal, as they passed beneath the frowning doorway into a vaulted stone hall. "He spends whole days and nights pacing up and down like a wild beast in a cage. He scarce leaves the hall, save when he wanders forth into the forest, and that has not happened since the cold winds have blown hard. You will find him within those doors, good gentlemen. Shall I make known your presence to him?"

It was plain that the old man had no small fear of his master, and would gladly be spared this office. Gaston looked round to see that some of his own followers were close behind and on the alert, and then taking Constanza's hand in his, and laying his right hand upon the hilt of his sword, he signed to the seneschal to throw open the massive oaken doors, and walked fearlessly in with Raymond at his side.

They found themselves in the ancient banqueting hall of the fortress -- a long, lofty, rather narrow room, with a heavily-raftered ceiling, two huge fireplaces, one at either end, and a row of very narrow windows cut in the great thickness of the wall occupying almost the whole of one side of the place; whilst a long table was placed against the opposite wall, with benches beside it, and another smaller table was placed upon a small raised dais at the far end of the apartment. On this dais was also set a heavy oaken chair, close beside the glowing hearth; and at this moment it was plain that the occupant of the chair had been disturbed by the commotion from without, and had suddenly risen to his feet, for he stood grasping the oaken arms, his wild gray hair hanging in matted masses about his seamed and wrinkled face, and his hollow eyes, in which a fierce light blazed, turned upon the intruders in a glare of impotent fury.

"Who are ye who thus dare to intrude upon me here? What is all this tumult I hear in mine own halls?

"Seneschal, art thou there? Send hither to me my soldiers; bid them bind these men, and carry them to the dungeons. I will see them there. Ha, ha! I will talk with them there. I will deal with them there. What ho! Send me the jailer and his assistants! Let them light the fires and heat hot the irons. Let them prepare our welcome for guests to Saut. Ha, ha! Ho, ho! These brave gallants shall taste our hospitality. Who brought them in? Where were they found? Methinks they will prove a rich booty. Would that good Peter Sanghurst were here to help me in the task of entertaining these new guests!"

The man was a raving lunatic; that was plain to the most inexperienced eye from the first moment. He knew not his own niece, he knew not the De Brocas brothers, though Raymond's face must have been familiar to him had he been in his right senses. He was still in fancy the undisputed lord of these wide lands, scouring the country for English travellers or prisoners of meaner mould; acting here in Gascony much the same part as the Sanghursts had more cautiously done in England, and as the Barons of both France and England had long done, though their day of irresponsible and autocratic power was well-nigh at an end.

He glared upon the brothers and their attendants with savage fury, still calling out to his men to carry them to the dungeons, still believing them to be a band of travellers taken prisoners by his own orders, raving and raging in his impotent fury till the gust of passion had worn itself out, and in a sullen amaze he sank into his seat, still gazing out from under his shaggy brows at the intruders, but the passion and fury for a moment at an end.

"He will understand better what you say to him now, Sir Knight," whispered the old seneschal, who alone of the men belonging to the Castle dared to enter the hall where their maniac master was. "His mind comes back to him sometimes after he has raved himself quiet. We dread his sullen moods almost more than his wild ones.

"Have a