With the Black Prince

"Bring thy archers with thee, if thou canst," replied Sir Walter. "It is the king's thought that his next great field is to be won with the arrow, rather than the sword or the lance. But he will have only good bows, and them he will train under his own eye. It is time, now, for our going."

The young prince, like the knight, gave the respectful ceremony of departure to the Lady of Wartmont, but much of youthful frankness mingled with his words and manner to Richard.

"I envy thee, indeed," he said to him, "thy close with the Club of Devon. I have never yet had such a fortune befall me. I have seen fights by sea and land, but ever some other hand than mine struck the best blow."

"Thou wilt strike blows enough before thou art done, thou lion's cub of England," said Sir Walter admiringly, for he loved the boy. That was good reason, too, why he was with him on this journey with so small a company.

"Few, are they?" had Richard responded to a word from his mother concerning peril to the prince. "I have marked them, man by man. I think they have been picked from the best of the king's men-at-arms. A hundred thieves would go down before them like brambles before a scythe. And the prince told me he thought it scorn to need other guards than his own people – "

"And his own sword," she said, "and the lances of De Maunay and his men. But the roads are not safe."

"Thou wilt be securely conveyed to Warwick, O my mother," he said lovingly. "I will not leave thee until thou art within the earl's own walls."

This had been spoken early in the day after the conflict with the outlaws, and now the horsemen were in their saddles, beyond the bridge of the moat, waiting for the prince and the knight.

Their waiting ended, and it was fair to see how lightly the great captain and his young friend, in spite of their heavy armor, did spring to horseback.

Gracious and low was their last salute to the bare, white head of Lady Maud at the portal, and then away they rode right merrily.

"O my son!" exclaimed she, turning to Richard at her side, "I can wish no better fortune for thee than to be the companion of thy prince. I tell thee, thou hast won much by this thy defense of thy mother and thy people."

"Aye," said Richard, laughing, "but thou wast the captain. I found thee leading thy array, and I did but help at my best. I would Sir Walter were to be with us, and not with the Earl of Derby."

"There be men-at-arms as good as he," she said. "Thou wilt have brave leaders to learn war under. And, above all, thou wilt be with thy king. Men say there hath not been one like him to lead men since William the Norman conquered this fair land. Thou, too, art a Neville and a Norman, but forget thou not one thing."

"And what may that be, my mother?" asked Richard, wondering somewhat.

"Knowest thou not thy hold upon the people, nor why the bowmen of Arden forest come to thee rather than to another? Neville and Beauchamp, thou art a Saxon more than a Norman. Thy father could talk to the men of the woods in their old tongue. It dieth away slowly, but they keep many things in mind from father to son. Every man of them is a Saxon of unmixed blood, and to that degree that thou art Saxon thou art their kinsman. So hated they Earl Mortimer and would have none of him, and so he harried them, as thou hast heard. They will stand by thee as their own."

"So will I bide by them!" exclaimed Richard stoutly. "And now there is one yonder that I must have speech with. I pray thee, go in, my mother."

"That will I not," she said. "It behooveth me to pass through the hamlet, house by house, till I know how they fare the day. There are hurts among both men and women, and I am a leech. Are they not my own?"

"And well they love thee," said her son, and they walked on down the slope side by side.

That they did so love her was well made manifest when men, women, and children crowded around her. Every voice had its tale of things done, or seen, or heard, and there was wailing also, for the few who had escaped from near Black Tom's place were here, and others from farther on. Dark and dire had been the deeds of the robber crew from the Welsh border to the heart of Warwickshire, and great was the praise that would everywhere be given to the young lord of Wartmont manor and his brave men. The Club of Devon and his outlaws would be heard of or feared no more. 'Twas a deed to be remembered and told of, in after time, among the fireside talks of the midland counties.

The madame now had household visits to make not a few, and Richard listened long to the talk of the farmers and the village men. He seemed to have grown older in a day, but his mother said, in her heart:

"I can see that the folk are gladdened to find that he is so like to the brave knight, his father. God keep him, among the spears and the battle-axes of the French men-at-arms! I fear he is over young to ride with such as serve with the prince."

She could not think to hold him back, but he was her only son, and she was a widow.

Patiently, all the while, a little apart from the rest, had waited the burly shape of Guy the Bow, and with him was no other forester, but beside him stood his shaggy-maned galloway.

"Thou art come?" said Richard. "Brave thanks to thee and thine. What errand hast thou, if so be thou hast any for me?"

"I bided out of seeing till the prince and Lord de Maunay rode on," replied Guy. "Even now I would no other ears than thine were too near us."

"This way, then," said Richard, turning to walk toward the moat. "I have somewhat to say to thee as we go."

None joined them, and as they walked the archer was informed concerning the mandates of the king and the mustering by land and sea at Portsmouth.

"I have been there," said Guy, "in my youth. 'Tis not so far to go. 'Tis well in behind the Isle of Wight. I have been told by seafaring men that the French have never taken it, though they tried. A safe haven. But there are others as safe on the land. Part of my coming to thee is to ask that thou wilt venture to look in on one."

"I may not venture foolishly or without a cause," said Richard. "Thee I may trust, but all are not as thou art."

"All thou wilt see are keepers of good faith when they give troth," laughed Guy pleasantly, "or else more in Wartmont would know what to this day they know not. My Lord of Wartmont, plain speech is best. The men who are to go with thee are under the king's ban, as thou knowest. They will not put themselves within the reach of the sheriff of Warwickshire till they are sure of safety. They will hear the king's proclamation from thine own lips, for thou hast it from the prince himself. A man's neck is a thing he is prone to guard right well."

"Go and have speech with them? That will I!" exclaimed Richard promptly. "Nor is there time to lose. I will bid them bring my horse – "

"Not as thou now art," responded Guy. "Don thou thy mail. Be thou well armed. But men of thine from the castle may not ride with us. I have that to show thee which they may not see. Wilt thou trust me?"

"That will I," said Richard.

"And thine own sword is a good one," added the archer, with soldierly admiration in his face. "I have seen thy father in tourney. Thou wilt have good stature and strong thews, as had he in his day. They say 'twas a great battle when he fell among the press, and that many good spears went down."

"Aye. Go!" said Richard thoughtfully. "I will explain this thing to my mother. She needeth but to know that I go to meet a muster of the men."

"Nay," said Guy. "Fear thou not to tell my lady all. In her girlhood she was kept, a day and a night, where none could do her harm, for the Welsh were over the border, under Lewellyn the Cruel, and the castle of her father was not safe. She was not a Neville then, and the Beauchamps fled for their lives."

"What was the quarrel?" asked Richard.

"Little know I," replied the archer. "What have plain woodsmen to do with the feuds of the great? Some trouble, mayhap, between King Edward the Second and his earls. We aye heard of fights and ravages in those days, but there came none to harry us in Arden."

So they talked but little more, and Richard passed on into the castle followed by Guy the Bow.

Their first errand was to the hall of arms in the lower story, and the eyes of the forester glittered with delight as they entered.

"Thou couldst arm a troop!" he exclaimed. "What goodly weapons are these!"

"Wartmont hath held a garrison more than once," said Richard. "Pray God that our good king may keep the land in peace. But it needeth that his hand be strong."

"Strong is it," said Guy, "and the young prince biddeth fair. I like him well. But, my Lord of Wartmont, the noon draweth nigher and we have far to ride."

"Aye," said Richard; but he was taking down from the wall piece after piece and weapon after weapon, eying them as if he loved them well but was in doubt.

"No plate armor, my lord," said Guy. "It were too heavy if thou went on foot. Let it be good chain mail; but take thee a visored headpiece. With thy visor down strange eyes would not know thee too well. Leg mail, not greaves, and a good, light target rather than a horseman's shield. This is a rare good lance."

"That will I take," said Richard, as he tested a sword blade by springing it on the stone pavement of the hall. "I will hang a mace at my pommel."

"Thou art a bowman," said Guy. "Thy bow and quiver also can hang at thy saddle. Nay, not that heavy bit of yew. Thy arms are too young to bend it well. Choose thee a lighter bow."

"I will string it, then, and show thee," replied Richard, a little haughtily. "Yon is a target at the head of the hall. Wait, now."

The bow was strung with an ease and celerity which seemed to surprise the brawny forester. He took it and tried its toughness and handed it back, for Richard had taken an arrow from a sheaf beneath a window.

"Good arm, thine!" shouted Guy, for the shaft was drawn to the head and landed in the very center of the bull's eye of the wooden tablet at the hall end. "Thou art a Saxon in thy elbows. Canst thou swing an axe like this?"