Ivanhoe, Walter Scott [the lemonade war series txt] 📗

converting feudal drawbridges into gibbets;

and yonder bold-spirited Cedric seemeth one to whom such an

imagination might occur. Your Grace is well aware, it will be

dangerous to stir without Front-de-Boeuf, De Bracy, and the

Templar; and yet we have gone too far to recede with safety.”

Prince John struck his forehead with impatience, and then began

to stride up and down the apartment.

“The villains,” he said, “the base treacherous villains, to

desert me at this pinch!”

“Nay, say rather the feather-pated giddy madmen,” said Waldemar,

“who must be toying with follies when such business was in hand.”

“What is to be done?” said the Prince, stopping short before

Waldemar.

“I know nothing which can be done,” answered his counsellor,

“save that which I have already taken order for.---I came not to

bewail this evil chance with your Grace, until I had done my best

to remedy it.”

“Thou art ever my better angel, Waldemar,” said the Prince; “and

when I have such a chancellor to advise withal, the reign of John

will be renowned in our annals.---What hast thou commanded?”

“I have ordered Louis Winkelbrand, De Bracy’s lieutenant, to

cause his trumpet sound to horse, and to display his banner, and

to set presently forth towards the castle of Front-de-Boeuf, to

do what yet may be done for the succour of our friends.”

Prince John’s face flushed with the pride of a spoilt child, who

has undergone what it conceives to be an insult. “By the face of

God!” he said, “Waldemar Fitzurse, much hast thou taken upon

thee! and over malapert thou wert to cause trumpet to blow, or

banner to be raised, in a town where ourselves were in presence,

without our express command.”

“I crave your Grace’s pardon,” said Fitzurse, internally cursing

the idle vanity of his patron; “but when time pressed, and even

the loss of minutes might be fatal, I judged it best to take this

much burden upon me, in a matter of such importance to your

Grace’s interest.”

“Thou art pardoned, Fitzurse,” said the prince, gravely; “thy

purpose hath atoned for thy hasty rashness.---But whom have we

here?---De Bracy himself, by the rood!---and in strange guise

doth he come before us.”

It was indeed De Bracy---“bloody with spurring, fiery red with

speed.” His armour bore all the marks of the late obstinate

fray, being broken, defaced, and stained with blood in many

places, and covered with clay and dust from the crest to the

spur. Undoing his helmet, he placed it on the table, and stood a

moment as if to collect himself before be told his news.

“De Bracy,” said Prince John, “what means this?---Speak, I

charge thee!---Are the Saxons in rebellion?”

“Speak, De Bracy,” said Fitzurse, almost in the same moment with

his master, “thou wert wont to be a man---Where is the Templar?

---where Front-de-Boeuf?”

“The Templar is fled,” said De Bracy; “Front-de-Boeuf you will

never see more. He has found a red grave among the blazing

rafters of his own castle and I alone am escaped to tell you.”

“Cold news,” said Waldemar, “to us, though you speak of fire and

conflagration.”

“The worst news is not yet said,” answered De Bracy; and, coming

up to Prince John, he uttered in a low and emphatic tone

---“Richard is in England---I have seen and spoken with him.”

Prince John turned pale, tottered, and caught at the back of an

oaken bench to support himself---much like to a man who receives

an arrow in his bosom.

“Thou ravest, De Bracy,” said Fitzurse, “it cannot be.”

“It is as true as truth itself,” said De Bracy; “I was his

prisoner, and spoke with him.”

“With Richard Plantagenet, sayest thou?” continued Fitzurse.

“With Richard Plantagenet,” replied De Bracy, “with Richard

Coeur-de-Lion---with Richard of England.”

“And thou wert his prisoner?” said Waldemar; “he is then at the

head of a power?”

“No---only a few outlawed yeomen were around him, and to these

his person is unknown. I heard him say he was about to depart

from them. He joined them only to assist at the storming of

Torquilstone.”

“Ay,” said Fitzurse, “such is indeed the fashion of Richard

---a true knight-errant he, and will wander in wild adventure,

trusting the prowess of his single arm, like any Sir Guy or Sir

Bevis, while the weighty affairs of his kingdom slumber, and his

own safety is endangered.---What dost thou propose to do De

Bracy?”

“I?---I offered Richard the service of my Free Lances, and he

refused them---I will lead them to Hull, seize on shipping, and

embark for Flanders; thanks to the bustling times, a man of

action will always find employment. And thou, Waldemar, wilt

thou take lance and shield, and lay down thy policies, and wend

along with me, and share the fate which God sends us?”

“I am too old, Maurice, and I have a daughter,” answered

Waldemar.

“Give her to me, Fitzurse, and I will maintain her as fits her

rank, with the help of lance and stirrup,” said De Bracy.

“Not so,” answered Fitzurse; “I will take sanctuary in this

church of Saint Peter---the Archbishop is my sworn brother.”

During this discourse, Prince John had gradually awakened from

the stupor into which he had been thrown by the unexpected

intelligence, and had been attentive to the conversation which

passed betwixt his followers. “They fall off from me,” he said

to himself, “they hold no more by me than a withered leaf by the

bough when a breeze blows on it! --- Hell and fiends! can I shape

no means for myself when I am deserted by these cravens?”---He

paused, and there was an expression of diabolical passion in the

constrained laugh with which he at length broke in on their

conversation.

“Ha, ha, ha! my good lords, by the light of Our Lady’s brow, I

held ye sage men, bold men, ready-witted men; yet ye throw down

wealth, honour, pleasure, all that our noble game promised you,

at the moment it might be won by one bold cast!”

“I understand you not,” said De Bracy. “As soon as Richard’s

return is blown abroad, he will be at the head of an army, and

all is then over with us. I would counsel you, my lord, either

to fly to France or take the protection of the Queen Mother.”

“I seek no safety for myself,” said Prince John, haughtily; “that

I could secure by a word spoken to my brother. But although you,

De Bracy, and you, Waldemar Fitzurse, are so ready to abandon me,

I should not greatly delight to see your heads blackening on

Clifford’s gate yonder. Thinkest thou, Waldemar, that the wily

Archbishop will not suffer thee to be taken from the very horns

of the altar, would it make his peace with King Richard? And

forgettest thou, De Bracy, that Robert Estoteville lies betwixt

thee and Hull with all his forces, and that the Earl of Essex is

gathering his followers? If we had reason to fear these levies

even before Richard’s return, trowest thou there is any doubt now

which party their leaders will take? Trust me, Estoteville alone

has strength enough to drive all thy Free Lances into the

Humber.”---Waldemar Fitzurse and De Bracy looked in each other’s

faces with blank dismay.---“There is but one road to safety,”

continued the Prince, and his brow grew black as midnight; “this

object of our terror journeys alone---He must be met withal.”

“Not by me,” said De Bracy, hastily; “I was his prisoner, and he

took me to mercy. I will not harm a feather in his crest.”

“Who spoke of harming him?” said Prince John, with a hardened

laugh; “the knave will say next that I meant he should slay him!

---No---a prison were better; and whether in Britain or Austria,

what matters it?---Things will be but as they were when we

commenced our enterprise---It was founded on the hope that

Richard would remain a captive in Germany---Our uncle Robert

lived and died in the castle of Cardiffe.”

“Ay, but,” said Waldemar, “your sire Henry sate more firm in his

seat than your Grace can. I say the best prison is that which is

made by the sexton---no dungeon like a church-vault! I have said

my say.”

“Prison or tomb,” said De Bracy, “I wash my hands of the whole

matter.”

“Villain!” said Prince John, “thou wouldst not bewray our

counsel?”

“Counsel was never bewrayed by me,” said De Bracy, haughtily,

“nor must the name of villain be coupled with mine!”

“Peace, Sir Knight!” said Waldemar; “and you, good my lord,

forgive the scruples of valiant De Bracy; I trust I shall soon

remove them.”

“That passes your eloquence, Fitzurse,” replied the Knight.

“Why, good Sir Maurice,” rejoined the wily politician, “start not

aside like a scared steed, without, at least, considering the

object of your terror.---This Richard---but a day since, and it

would have been thy dearest wish to have met him hand to hand in

the ranks of battle---a hundred times I have heard thee wish it.”

“Ay,” said De Bracy, “but that was as thou sayest, hand to hand,

and in the ranks of battle! Thou never heardest me breathe a

thought of assaulting him alone, and in a forest.”

“Thou art no good knight if thou dost scruple at it,” said

Waldemar. “Was it in battle that Lancelot de Lac and Sir

Tristram won renown? or was it not by encountering gigantic

knights under the shade of deep and unknown forests?”

“Ay, but I promise you,” said De Bracy, “that neither Tristram

nor Lancelot would have been match, hand to hand, for Richard

Plantagenet, and I think it was not their wont to take odds

against a single man.”

“Thou art mad, De Bracy---what is it we propose to thee, a hired

and retained captain of Free Companions, whose swords are

purchased for Prince John’s service? Thou art apprized of our

enemy, and then thou scruplest, though thy patron’s fortunes,

those of thy comrades, thine own, and the life and honour of

every one amongst us, be at stake!”

“I tell you,” said De Bracy, sullenly, “that he gave me my life.

True, he sent me from his presence, and refused my homage---so

far I owe him neither favour nor allegiance---but I will not lift

hand against him.”

“It needs not---send Louis Winkelbrand and a score of thy

lances.”

“Ye have sufficient ruffians of your own,” said De Bracy; “not

one of mine shall budge on such an errand.”

“Art thou so obstinate, De Bracy?” said Prince John; “and wilt

thou forsake me, after so many protestations of zeal for my

service?”

“I mean it not,” said De Bracy; “I will abide by you in aught

that becomes a knight, whether in the lists or in the camp; but

this highway practice comes not within my vow.”

“Come hither, Waldemar,” said Prince John. “An unhappy prince am

I. My father, King Henry, had faithful servants---He had but to

say that he was plagued with a factious priest, and the blood of

Thomas-a-Becket, saint though he was, stained the steps of his

own altar.---Tracy, Morville, Brito *

Reginald Fitzurse, William de Tracy, Hugh de Morville, and Richard Brito, were the gentlemen of Henry the Second’s household, who, instigated by some passionate expressions of their sovereign, slew the celebrated Thomas-a-Becket.

loyal and daring subjects, your names, your spirit, are extinct!

and although Reginald Fitzurse hath left a son, he hath fallen

off from his father’s fidelity and courage.”

“He has fallen off from neither,” said Waldemar Fitzurse; “and

since it may not better be, I will take on me the conduct of

this perilous