CHAPTER XIX

THEIR ADVENTURES AMONG THE NORTH ENGLISH

So they turned them north again and held on till they came upon a town. This time, not entering any hostel, they bought food and took it with them, with fodder for the beasts, and found a small wood that stood on the outskirts. Feargus here made Torfrida her tent again and set a fence around about with prickly whin and other bushes and brought the two beasts inside. And he lay down by his own horse and watched and ever and again rose and walked round and saw that all was still, but slept not, such little sleep as he got being by day when Torfrida could sit watching. So it fell that he was in sore need of rest and they stayed there three days. As soon as morning broke Torfrida would rise and go outside and watch while Feargus fell to sleeping, and sweet was that rest to him. On the fourth day while Torfrida was watching she noticed that some men of the village were looking down upon them. At length, seeing no one stirring, they drew nearer and beheld Feargus, and gazed at him, agape at his thew and sinew.

“Now, good master, tell us what manner of man is this, for never yet saw we the like of him—surely he is more of warrior than of leech.”

“Go ye not too near unto him, lest ye disturb his sleep, for little might the twain of ye do against him ah ye hurtled with him.”

“Nay, young master, but we are many; he is one.”

“Nay, I see but two of ye.”

“Aye, but others fill the forest and they have sent us to ask of him whether it be true as they say, that he is Feargus through whom king Penda was slain, for so we are told by men of the North English.”

Then Torfrida turned and went within the barrier, saying, “Surely he will best answer you himself.” And so she said to Feargus in Gaelic, “Arise, beloved one, for our troubles seem but begun; arise and lift with thee thy bow with arrow ready, for our foes are about us on every hand. Safer I doubt we would be among the wolves of the west than here.”

Then Feargus arose and stood before his enemies.

“What dost want?” said he, “that I may not be left in peace here in the greenwood?”

“They say thou art Feargus the Pict, the captain of king Penda.”

“And what if I be Feargus: what is’t that I owe thee?—nothing. Forget ye not that Osbert would not wait but forced me to fight, and so we both broke tryst with the king at the last, yet I served him right well—as well as the best of ye his own kin; and my men, who knew that Feargus would never desert his master, thought me dead and all died for Penda and stood to him saving his name when his own Mercians fled and left him. And what did Feargus himself do? Did not the king say that he it was who won the fight with king Sigmund by Trent water and at Mansfield town, and he had no small share in the victory at Camulodunum over king Anna of the East Anglians. So what is’t that he owes ye?”

“Aye, but Feargus lost the cause at the last, so that all his deeds were of little profit. He is a traitor and we will slay him.”

“Then gather all thy comrades that are about the forest together, and when ye are all gathered then hear me; and if I cannot prevail on ye, ye must slay me.”

“Nay, we will not gather them together, lest they being withdrawn ye might escape.”

“Then move ye not a hand but set ye your minds in order.”

“And why so, master?”

“Because an ye call not your comrades together they shall call not you so sound will ye both sleep, for these arrows shall fly to the hearts of ye. Ye wot Feargus was ever a man of his word save only that once when he failed through fate to tryst with Penda. Nay, an ye call for help or move ye shall die e’er help can reach ye.”

“Spare us, noble Feargus, for we are men who have wives and young bairns.”

“Gather your townsmen or die ere this stone reaches earth again, and if any man of yours lifts bow or brand I will slay thee,” said he, throwing high a great pebble.

“We will do as ye command,” said they.

So they wound their horns and in from every quarter came soldiers and villagers, each man armed to the teeth, for as Feargus had seen, they had surrounded them and left to the chief man of the town the work of bearding the noble quarry. Then, when they were all gathered, Feargus, with bow stretched, whistled soft, and as if by his own will his great white horse arose and came to him, and then said he to Torfrida in the Gaelic, “Now run to thy beast and mount; leap then the fence and ride straight into the forest, the road is clear, and when thou canst just see me in the distance, wait, that I may not lose thee.”

Then before the astonished soldiers could stir she leapt the bushes in the rear, gathering her plaid and tent up as she went, and made for the wood, and in a moment was out of sight. There was a slight movement among the villagers, and some shouted, “Take him, he will escape.” But Feargus drew back the string of that mighty bow till the chief man’s son cried, “Stay, stay, or he will slay my father!” while the old man trembled. Then Torfrida blew her whistle, and promptly Feargus leapt on to his horse and, sitting with back to the beast’s head, kept his arrow fixed on the old man. Then, speaking a word to the beast, it dashed through the fence in the track of its fellow; and the angry villagers saw them depart, but might not follow for fear of that terrible bow. When he had quite disappeared they took horse and lifted horn and rode after him, for greatly were they put to shame at being outwitted through fear for one man. So they rode and ran and raised a great hue and cry. But Feargus and Torfrida rode on nor stopped until Torfrida was faint for very weariness. Then said Feargus, “Here let us draw up, for thou art much distressed, and so withal are the poor beasts. To-morrow we must on again—little rest is there for us or them.” He gathered whin in the open and other bushes and made a fence and put Torfrida and also the beasts within, kindling a fire to scare the wild creatures. Then he went forth to gather food for the horses, sweet grasses, and corn which he had bought in the village. And he came upon a deer and shot it and cut it up and cooked it, and they ate with great heartiness. And the beasts lay still beside him, so tame were they grown, and so keen were their ears they could tell from afar the coming of any wild creature, and then Feargus would rise up with his sword and lift a faggot to scare it. But so keen did Feargus himself soon become that no sound or mark escaped him. So it was that he kept out of the track of men, until after wandering through mire and moss they drew out of the lands of the North English, thinking to enter the great wild which lay between Lune and Wharfe and stretched well nigh to Solway and the western seaboard. And they struck across the moorlands of Wharfe towards Cumbria, but so heavy was the road that the days came and went and saw them but little on their path. Oft-times they despaired of ever seeing Alban, and their hearts were heavy when they thought of all the gate they had yet to go. And ever the winter drew nearer and filled Feargus with dread. So they strayed among the glens, and every night he would find a place of safety for Torfrida. Sometimes he would make her a tent among the whins and bracken, sometimes would stretch over the heather the skins of the many animals he had slain; at times in caves or ’mongst the rocks of some mountain or cataract he stretched her tent on stakes of wood and there she would sleep serene. Then he would set forth on foot in search of food. So on they sped, lying now on the bare brae side, now in wild glens, ever faring northward. And the nights grew cold and the snell wind swept keen up the glens or over the bleak braes, and now the wolves and wild beasts drew nearer at night, for the frost fell upon the earth and left them scant of food.