CHAPTER XVIII

HOW THEY LOST THEIR WAY IN THE GREENWOOD

And so they saddled their beasts and sped through the forest ever thinking that the men of Sigmund were upon them, and when night fell still they rode on, until at length Torfrida was utterly weary and like to fall from her horse. This Feargus saw, though she complained not, so that he drew up and dismounted. Then he set about to make her a tent with bushes and sticks, over which he stretched the plaid he carried. And she lay down inside the tent and he fitted an arrow to his bow and stood outside hard by. At about the midnight he was startled by the baying of a hound in the rear whence they had come. So he saddled the tired beasts, but judging their enemies to be yet a long way off, left Torfrida resting and went deeper into the forest till he came upon a sleeping stag which he slew, and cutting the skin therefrom fastened pieces on to the feet of their horses, judging that the hounds were following the horses’ track and not that of the deer. Then he went to Torfrida’s tent and said, “Sorry am I to arouse thee; full well I know thou art weary, but arise I pray thee, for now have they brought hounds to track us and we must away.”

She arose and came out and he lifted her into the saddle half asleep, and they went on, and in their rear could be heard the baying of dogs and movements of men and horses, and Torfrida was sore afraid and trembled. Then, further to hide the track of them, Feargus steered their way westward through the wood, till after many hours’ riding they won the river Trent, and taking a grip of Torfrida’s bridle he caused the beasts to plunge in and they swam strongly till they reached the shore. They entered there the forest of Sherwood, which was deeper than that through which they had come and full of swamps and devious ways and beasts and robbers. Little he liked to enter it, and he wrapped the cloak close around Torfrida as though she were a youth and put a man’s bonnet on her brow and bound a white cloth about her forehead, as though she were sick of a wound. Then out of his wallet he took an old dress, much worn but strong, like to the habit of a medicine man, and set it over his byrny, and such a sorry couple they made as it little would profit to rob. So they held on laboriously for three days, not daring to linger long in one place, but striking ever northwards through the greenwood. On the fourth day so weary was Torfrida that Feargus would have her to rest well, and in the dusk of evening they came to a stand in a glade of wondrous beauty nigh to where a burn ran, and were for resting there. He made the tent for Torfrida and cooked and ate of the stag’s flesh which he had slain and drank of the burn. Then, having eaten, Feargus took his sword and bow and went to look around, following the burn. He had gone but a stone’s throw from where they had set their camp when to his great amaze he saw a sheet of water stretching before him; he looked to the right hand and to the left down the broad stream. On the opposite bank was a forest, but of not such density as the Sherwood in which he stood. Where had he seen that place before? His heart leapt, for lo! they had come again to the spot at which they had crossed Trent water four days since! Then his courage failed him and he leant against a tree and nigh wept. So long he stood that Torfrida, wondering what kept him, followed his track yet visible in the soft earth, and came upon him and marvelled, so still he stood, till she beheld the water and knew the place, and threw herself upon his neck, and they stood there long together without speech.

“Better would it be, Torfrida, for thee if thou didst cross once more Trent water and seek thy father, for great travail will be ours or we win the land of the bens, if ever we reach it; for much I doubt whether we may win so far north.”

“Nay, then thou wilt have an arrow for each of us.”

“An thou art so bravely minded, to-morrow we will rest and the next day hold on, and methinks here is a clear space by Trent side and, though if we ride along the water we will go too far to the east, I can here see the heavens and may pilot our way by the stars.” So they rested and then on for many a league, going oftentimes miles about for want of a path, and for fear of moss and water and thicket impassable. It chanced as they were riding one evening by Trent they saw a small boat flit from under the opposite bank and strike across towards them. In it were three men clad in forest green, so that it was hard to tell them amongst the green leaves. Feargus sprang aground and ran swiftly forward, ere they knew him ware of their presence. Then with bow fixed he hailed them. “Ho! ye men in green. I give ye warning that he who but a bow raises shall lift bow no more for many days—halt, I say.”

He who sat in the bow seized his arrows, however, and fitted one, then Feargus let his arrow forth and lo! it struck the man through the hand, and his bow had hardly slipped from his grasp ere another struck the side of the boat and pierced it.

“Now canst thou see what manner of bowman am I? hold, therefore, or by my next shot you will find yourselves in Trent. Then will I slay ye as ye swim to land.”

Then said he of the wounded hand, “This is no mortal man but a giant; saw ye ever the like or bow of so great size? Little profit were it to fight with him.” Then he said to Feargus, “Now, good master, what wilt thou of us? thou art a goodly bowman and we would land, for our boat hath a rent in her such as no bowman of mine could have made in so stout a craft.”

“I ask a safe free passage through the forest.”

“That we promise thee.”

“I lack a guide also to lead me, and another with him as a surety for his good faith and that of thy men. And if he betray me then will I cut the throats of ye both.”

“Thou hast shot me through the hand, I would avail little against my own foes.”

“Thou shalt not lack such defence as I can give thee against thine enemies as long as thou servest me.”

“Thou speakest fair, an thou wilt let us land we will take thy terms.”

“Then let the three of ye land, and give me thy troth and let thy men do likewise.”

“I swear by the old gods and by the new God.”

“And I.” “And I.”

So they landed, and Feargus tied the man’s hands behind him, but the wounded captain he let free, after binding his wound. And he made them walk before him and kept an arrow in his hand ready. And so at last they left the Trent and struck north and west through the forest, towards the lands of the Northern English beyond Mansfield. When they reached the forest marge, Feargus gave the captain his bow to defend him with, and let the green men go free. And they rode out through the lands of the North English who were once Penda’s men, and soon found themselves well out of the forest and won a good road and followed it and came to a turning and there found a hostel where wayfarers might find rest and meat. So they entered and ate heartily. But soon a crowd collected outside, so wild were their looks, and so giant-like Feargus and rode such a monstrous beast, though the creature had little else to recommend him to a stranger, for Feargus had let him run wild and left him mud-stained to hide his worth, though food or other care he never lacked and ate ever before his master had eaten. Then the people gan asking Torfrida who her master might be and much ado she had to silence them, and Feargus began to fear that they might not safely stay in that hostel. Yet he little liked turning out again into the night, he being heavy for lack of sleep, for while the green men were with them he had got no rest, but ever had to watch that they did not betray them. And so as they supped it chanced that, hearing of the strange people who had come into the town, there entered some soldiers who had fought for Penda, and Feargus knew them quickly. And they eyed him askance. And one of them, Godfree by name, had been a captain in Feargus’s host in former days, and he had intelligence beyond the others, though his temper was evil. This man now came and stood near to them with knitted brow, as though thinking to solve some difficulty, and so till Feargus spoke; when he heard his voice the man started as though the earth had opened at his feet. Then with mouth agape and eyes starting from their sockets he backed to the door. All those that stood there looked on amazed.

“What seest thou?” said they.

“I see the ghost of him who betrayed our king, the mighty Penda,” he gasped, “Feargus the Pict; but it is surely no ghost—it is Feargus, men. Slay him, the traitor! Down with him!”

Then Torfrida thought that all was lost, but Feargus arose with a bound and won the door before they could reach it and there stood with bow drawn, but he wished not to slay any, for he well knew that they would then follow him, and, turning to Torfrida, he said in Gaelic, “Canst thou run and fetch the beasts to the door; no danger thou wilt meet, for none shall leave this hostel to tell those without till thou returnest.”

“That can I,” said Torfrida, and soon came back with the beasts and waited without. When Feargus reached the door and faced the men who were for leaving the hostel, his mighty bow drawn and a huge wooden table standing before him as a barrier, the captain, Godfree, stayed in his course, so likewise the others, looking to him for the lead. Godfree well knew the strength of Feargus and what things he had done, and the fame of him held the others in awe also. For they knew that though they might slay him, there would be few of their company left after it was done.

Then said he, “Hearken to me—never did Feargus betray Penda, but it is of common knowledge and was witnessed by many that he met the prince Osbert in a wood, and albeit he wished not to fight lest he should be too late to come up and keep tryst with Penda, Osbert forced him to it, and so the king failed for lack of men. Never did I betray him, for that I loved the king.”

“He lies,” roared Godfree, recovering himself. “He hath ruined Mercia,” and then they all came forward clamouring, and so great was the noise that the townspeople came out and lined the road. Then Feargus knew that he must wait no longer, but strode through the door, and it had hardly closed on the heel of him ere he was astride his horse, and the two dashed down the street midst a shower of stones from the houses. As no one knew save the men behind why they fled or who they were no one stopped them, so they won the moor outside the town, and there drew up. Then Feargus turned to Torfrida and sighed, for she looked pale for want of rest, and frightened, and he took her by the hand, saying, “Once more, Torfrida. Thanks to thee.”

“Nay, without thy quickness and thy courage I could have done nothing.”

“And now, Torfrida, I see not which way there is left for us to turn; for if the North Angles knew me so also will the men of Elmet[7] and Northumbria. But an we do not enter Northumbria there remains nothing but the wilds that lie to the north-west in South Strathclyde and Cumbria, where no man is, nor food, nor bield nor bush to shelter us from the wind, nor anything but moss and moor. We have been many days in coming this little gate, and if the rest of the way is as long to tread, then will winter be upon us ere we enter the wild country.”

“Then let us still try Northumbria, for there at least are men and women and we may get through.”

“So shall it be, Torfrida, an thou art so brave to bear the risk.”