CHAPTER XX

HOW FEARGUS FELL AMONG THIEVES

It chanced one night that Feargus went forth on foot and wandered over the moors, finding nothing for his arrows. And his white horse followed him like a dog, now stopping a hundred paces behind to crop the grass, now running forward as it listed. At length, being weary, Feargus sat him down not noticing that hard by him were the remains of a camp fire. He laid his sword aside him and unloosened his harness and fell to thinking, and was right sad when he minded him of all Torfrida had come through for his sake. “Better,” said he, “would it have been had I died by Osbert’s hands, in sooth.” Then suddenly he got a blow on the head and was seized by each shoulder, while a man stepped forward and lifted his sword and turned it against him.

“Now yield ye, sir Redbeard, for whoever thou be,” said one.

Then Feargus seized the one who held his right arm and swung him to the earth and the one to the left he struck with his clenched fist and then dashed upon him who held the sword, but the robber instantly struck him with it in the shoulder that the blood spurted forth, and then another ran forward with a bow and fitted an arrow thereto and made to shoot him. Then Feargus paused, for he thought what would befall Torfrida alone on the moor, and he felt the blood running from him, for he had had his byrny unloosed as also the shirt of mail that clad him to the elbow, so that he had no defence against his foes. Then he reasoned that it would be better to give way now and escape afterwards if chance offered. So he allowed them to bind his hands, whereupon those whom he had hurt fell upon him and beat him sorely, stripping off his byrny, and ever he bled; but when they went to lift his shirt of mail from him he said, “Coward swordsmiths are ye, for ye have beaten a wounded foe who is a prisoner and without arms, and now go for to strip him of his mail though the night be keen for a whole man and worse for a wounded one, and it will do ye little good for there is not one among your company who is of size to wear it.” Then one who was the captain among them struck him upon the mouth in answer. Feargus uttered an oath in Gaelic, whereupon the captain again struck him, and then they took him one on either side and walked on, but one of the company came forward drawing forth a kerchief. “Better he would walk, perchance,” said he, “if the blood were staunched, for he groweth faint and hard work were it to carry so long a loon.” So the robber bound his wound and that not without skill or tenderness. Then did Feargus mutter faintly in his own tongue, “Thanks to thee for I see thou art a man, whatever company it be that thou art in.”

They went on down into the glen, but Feargus was too faint to mark the way, his head swam and he had no sense left, but there was before him a vision of Torfrida seated on the moor midst a handful of pine trees, with the beasts lying near, for he never doubted that the white horse would find his way back to her, and she waiting vainly for his return. The robbers led him westwards, down the glen, and there among the rocks they entered a large cavern, the mouth of which could not be seen from any distance outside. The place was filled with peat-reek from a great fire, and at the further end they led him into a smaller cave, one of the men showing the way with a lighted faggot. Dark and cold and damp the place was, and the water trickled down the walls in sickly streams, but Feargus recked not but fell down amidst of it on the floor and slept. In the night he wakened, feeling stiff and full of pain, weak and an hungered. He thought again of Torfrida on the moor, and his heart grew sick. At length one came to him and brought him food, and said he, “Our captain bids me tell thee that an thou wilt join his band thou shalt live, despite the hurt thou hast give him; but an thou refusest thou shalt die.”

So Feargus ate and drank and slept, and, there being no light, he could not tell whether it were night or day when he awoke, but of a sudden some one whispered to him in his native tongue—

“Thou art a North Pict by thy speech; I am of the south, yet are we all of one blood and one tongue, though whiles, alas! of two ways of thinking; arise, brother, and pass out, and thou wilt find thy bow hanging on the wall on the right hand as thou goest: thou art o’er brave to die thus by the hands of the English. A sword thou wilt find at thy side and the skin of a deer to cover thy nakedness. I am a robber yet will I not see my kin robbed.”

“A brother art thou indeed, as thou sayest, and great thanks I owe thee, though I naught can give thee to show it, but if ever I win Alban and thou comest thither, a hearthstone thou shalt find to thee and shall lack nothing that I can give thee, as long as thou livest; for I am son to king Nechtan and my name is Feargus.”

“Then have I heard much of thee and right glad I am to serve so noble a warrior. Go lest they awake, it is about the dawn; such courage as thou hast can do the rest. I will meet thee yet in thy father’s hall and be thy man, for never can I stay in my own country more for an evil man have I been.”

“Thy name?”

“Domnhull MacEachran MacGilliosa.”

Then Feargus crept out stealthily and took the bow and the sword, wrapping the deer skins around him. There he saw the robbers lying, and he counted them in the dim light of the dying fire and passed on thinking they were all, when, as he neared the entrance, he stumbled over a man’s body. The man started up, sword in hand, and Feargus felt that he was over weak to do battle with him, so quickly stabbed him ere he had fully risen, that he fell back dead. Then he heard the others bestirring within, roused by the noise, and he fled; but he knew by the sounds that the whole cave was now astir. Little knowing the glen he sped slowly, and those behind were gaining upon him; so stiff was his left shoulder that he could not use his bow, and when he reached the top of the steep side of the glen he was breathless and faint, but staggered on across the moor. Then came the robbers on behind him in full chase, and he felt that he was lost, when lo! from out a small planting or spinney on his right a creature ran with a joyous neigh, and ere he could gather his senses he was nosed all over head and face by his own great horse. The beast seemed so overjoyed that Feargus well-nigh wept over him, being weak. Then he scrambled to the creature’s back and, patting its neck, left it to go which way it listed, for he himself knew not the road back to Torfrida. And his foes saw a great grey horse run from among the trees and then their quarry mounted it and the two were spirited away like shadows of the gloaming. The horse took its way without hesitance across the moor, and soon came to the spot where was Torfrida. And she was overjoyed at the sight of them and kissed first Feargus and then the beast. But Feargus himself was so weak that he nearly fell as he dismounted, and Torfrida dressed his wound and gave him water and what food she had remaining, and she sat awake all that night watching him. In the morning she found him still too weak to move, and they dreaded lest the robbers should find them. So when he was for rising to seek food Torfrida bade him lie still, and went and set a trap as he directed her, and they waited until they caught a bird which she cooked in the peat ash, and they fared well. So each night Torfrida watched and slept in the day, and they stayed in the wood for a week.