CHAPTER XXIII

HOW TORFRIDA WAS STOLEN

So they stayed some months at the court of Lothian, and Torfrida had a house set apart for her and maids to wait and do her bidding and had full liberty to walk about freely, but she saw little of Feargus, for he was much away on the king’s business. And Feargus knew not how they might get away from these parts, and wondered much how it fared with Edwy and Sigmund.

And one evening it chanced that Torfrida was walking late in her garden when of a sudden from the hedgerows on either side burst armed men with their faces masked. Torfrida, being surprised, stood still for a moment, when she was seized from behind and a cloth cast about her, then strong hands lifted her and she was borne away till they came to where seemed to be horses waiting. She was then taken up and borne on the saddle before the rider, and they rode for many miles over much uneven ground. She could hear that on either side and behind her were horsemen. At length they drew up, then Torfrida heard the noise of a drawbridge and the tramp of the hoofs of the beasts as they rode across; then it was drawn up behind them and at the sound the heart fell within her. They carried her into the castle, for such she deemed it wherein she was. The cloth was now withdrawn from her head and she saw that she was in a large chamber, handsomely furnished and hung around with rich tapestry, and with her was a stout woman in the dress of a servant.

“Oh, where am I, why have they brought me here?” said she.

“Thou art safe, lady; they have brought thee here because my master, the prince, has loved thee since the day they took thee to the king with yon great man thy squire.”

“Oh, tell me who is thy master? I know him not.”

“Weep not, lady; my master is right comely.”

“What is his comeliness to me?”

“Nay, thou hast seen him, but thou wouldst not look upon him, so he was angered, and he knew that his father, the king, set too much store by thy knight to let him take thee from him, even if he had a wish to fight thy lord, which methinketh few men about the king have. So he cast round for a way to win thee, and none other could he think of but the taking of thee in this wise—but there, I am telling thee too much. It matters little, for I am sent, my lady, to tell thee that my master, prince Siegfried, wills to wed thee to-night—for he fears to lose thee still; even now the priest awaits thy coming, and the feast is spread.”

Torfrida groaned aloud.

“As thou art a woman I beg thee to let me hence. Let me go out into the mountains and the woods that the wild beasts may devour me.”

“Nay, thou art over young and comely, and I would not if I could, for it would be shame.”

“Nay, good woman, not shame as great as mine will be when this wild beast thou speakest of, thy master, comes. Let me hence and amongst the hills and moors I may find men who speak the Gaelic tongue and will befriend me.”

“Nay, thou art in the hills here and all the men about Glencorse and Bonaly are adread of the prince and this new castle, and thou wouldst lose thyself and be drowned in the bogs that surround us long before any of the Pictland men could succour thee, for hills encompass Glencorse on every side and the paths are hard to find to a stranger. And they would quickly follow thee with dogs and men and there would be no escape.”

“Oh, say not so, good woman, for I could slay myself by leaping into the burn or into the bog—it were easy.”

“Nay, vex not thyself, child. Thou wilt soon be reconciled. And if I let thee free, then would the prince be so angry that he would turn me into the night, if he did not slay me, and I am old and the fireside is my place, and I have neither kith nor kin to shelter me in this wild country.”

“Nay, then, if thou fearest for thyself let me escape on to the battlements and I will throw myself from them and thy master will never know thou hast shown me the way, but will believe I have escaped from thee. And I will give thee these rings and this collar of gold worth a king’s ransom, an thou wilt be rich.” And Torfrida threw herself on the ground and clasped and kissed the woman’s feet.

“Nay, rise, sweet girl, for I lack courage for this thing thou askest. I would serve thee if I could for never have I seen any woman so modest and so comely as thou art. Greet no more and have no fear, for the prince is mad for love of thee and will let no harm befall thee, but will wed thee and make thee lady of his house and the queen of all his lands.”

Now Torfrida saw that she could not move the woman and she arose and bade her leave her, and the woman went. Then Torfrida ran round the room to see whether there were any hope of escape, but the windows were small and set high up on the walls, and across them were stout iron bars. Now she saw that the walls were built of huge logs of wood and were of great thickness, and from the windows were hangings of heavy tapestry. In the wide chimney upon a stone slab fixed into the earth floor burnt a fire of wood. Torfrida drew forth a burning faggot and then stepped to the windows and set the hangings alight, then she ran to the tapestry on the walls and did the like. In an instant there was a roar that frightened her and she screamed; she could not help it, as a sheet of flame shot up the walls. Only the inner side remained and Torfrida, recovering herself, in her frenzy went to light the wall, though her terror of what she had done almost overcame her. As she stooped to apply the faggot the door flew open and a huge woman with red face and flaunting dress stood over her, and with a cry of astonishment and rage struck Torfrida with her open hand upon the ear with such force that she, being light and slim of figure, fell upon the ground. She lay for a moment and then arose, but as she gained her feet the woman struck her again on the other side of the head so that she fell down again upon her knees.

“Huzzy!” she screamed, “who are you that would burn us in our beds?” and then she walked to the door and cried “Fire!” and in a moment men came running with vessels filled with water, and they tore the hangings down and in ten minutes, so well they wrought, that they had quenched all the flames.

Then Torfrida, dizzy and sick with the blows she had received, stole out of the door unnoticed in the smoke and confusion, and turned along the corridor, thinking to throw herself from the battlements. She passed swiftly along a maze of narrow passages till she found a stair; up this she ran and presently felt a breath of wind, and turned to face it thinking it might come from the battlements. She sped along, staggering much from the blows she had received, till she saw a door and pushed it open and, lo! she found herself in a large hall and before her stood the big red-faced stout woman who had struck her. Torfrida screamed and begged for mercy.

“Ha, huzzy! thou wert thinking to escape. My son wed thee, forsooth! Thou imp of evil! thou witch! Wouldst burn us in our beds! I will teach thee better manners,” and she seized her by the wrist with one hand and beat her with the other till the blood flowed from her nose and mouth and she sank down in a swoon. Then the woman got water and threw it over her and picked her up like an infant, and taking her into another room laid her upon a bed and left her, locking the door as she went. And presently the old tire-woman came in and when she saw her she wept. “Then she hath beaten thee, poor child. No wonder the king cannot live with so great a brute!” And she washed the blood from Torfrida’s nose and mouth and kissed her and put cold bandages round her head. “Ah, thou wert foolish not to give way as I told thee and wed the prince without ado, for he will defend thee from her, and I will wait upon thee and love thee, for I have nothing else to love.”

Knowing she could not move her, Torfrida thanked the woman and bid her go and return in an hour, and she said, “I charge ye, good woman, tell no one of the usage I have received at this dame’s hands, for it puts shame upon me.”

In an hour the wife returned and found Torfrida calm and white and bland, with a smile upon her face, and her manner was decided and she no longer craved for help.

“Go, good wife,” she said, “and tell the prince, thy master, that an he loves me he must leave me to-night. I am ill and sore and weary with the rough handling and rough riding, for tell him women have not the strength of men; but I know thy master is a soldier and brave, they say, and would not needlessly distress a maiden even if he loved her not. Now I charge you, my woman, speak him fair as I speak,” added she, “for an thou dost not thou shalt be no woman of mine when I am queen of thy master’s hearth.”

“Now thou speakest, my lady, and I will do thy bidding, as I would be thy tire-woman, for well I know thou art a great lady and a king’s daughter.”

Then she went below and entered the hall where sat the prince at the board, fierce, impatient, and flushed. At his side were his companions, wild, loose sots, half soldiers, half forest robbers. Among them were many of the native Britons of Lothian of the race of Gwynedd, who had entered the service of the conqueror that they might keep their lands, even though below them was a sturdy race of clansmen full of the spirit of nationality and true to the nation of the Southern Albanich or Picts to which their land of Gododin had been joined, and friendly also to the stronger nation of the Northern Picts. These men, deserted by their natural chiefs, were waiting only for the leadership of a few strong men to take up arms against the Anglian settlers. In the Pentland and Muirfoot hills, and indeed in all the hill country, the Britons and Picts had been able to hold their own. At the prince’s board were also one or two soldiers of fortune or outlaws of the nation of the South Picts and the rest Northumbrians, Mercians, Lindeseymen, and men from other quarters, a motley throng. At the side of the prince stood a priest of unpleasant feature and shifty eye. At the other end of the table opposite the prince was a vacant chair, richly embroidered and draped with crimson and cloth of gold; to right and left of this sat the ladies of the chiefs. When he saw that the tire-woman had not Torfrida with her, the prince looked angry, but when she delivered her message his wrath was mollified for, be it said, he had great fear of his father’s captain and of his father, who loved only the fair fight, and within him was a foreboding of evil; but if the lady were going to prove willing what could her lover or the king have to complain of if they married? He could then spread it abroad that the lady had fled with him to escape from her squire. And was it not easy to believe that she should choose him instead of a beggarly captain! And so he smiled and sent back a message to her that she must be of good cheer, for nothing should she lack that gold might buy. So the wife returned and Torfrida retired to her bedchamber and tried to sleep. In the morning the woman entered.

“How doth my lady this morning?”

“Nay, I am weary and will not rise to-day.”

“But the prince, my lady?”

“What of the prince?”

“He wishes at least to see thee and has been walking the hall the night through so distracted is he for love of thee.”

“Tell him I am sick.”

So they let her alone that day, but the next the woman came again. “My lady, the prince hath been pacing the walls all the night, and he saith he dieth for love of thee, and I would counsel thee, if thou wilt take my rede, not to delay; for like a madman he goeth between love and fear. Hark ye, he is even now without.”

“Then dress me and help me to the couch in the outer chamber and I will speak with him.”

So she laid her on the couch and the prince entered, and when he saw her, how pale she was after her terrible beating and long fast, he was abashed and came and knelt down by her. Then Torfrida put out her hand and he kissed it.

“What manner of prince or knight art thou that presseth thy suit even though the lady lie sick unto death? Is this the way of princes?”

Now the prince was young, if old in riotous living, and the sight of a noble and beautiful maiden had not lost its hold upon him, even though his fears for his own safety filled him.

He answered not, and Torfrida knew that she had shamed him.

“Have I not sent word that I would see thee when I am cured of this sickness? Better treatment would I receive at the hands of a common man. If thou lovest me let me be till I am whole.”

“If I might but kiss thy lips I will rest me content, sweet lady, till thou art healed.”

“Thou wilt act as a prince only an thou mayest kiss me. Thou wouldst kiss when thou hast not wooed me; surely thou hast a way of wooing of thine own.”

“Say no more, I will leave thee, but keep me not long, I implore thee.”

“Here, thou mayest kiss my hand an thou art so minded. Now, get thee gone.”

Then the prince returned and no sooner had he reached the hall than he stamped and swore in rage, and called himself fool and faint of heart; for he had been overcome by a woman, though he had sworn to his followers that he would wed Torfrida that day, sick or well. So he was much haunted by fears and doubts, and knew no rest either day or night. Two days later he went again to Torfrida’s chamber door and knocked. Then Torfrida took from her finger a ring which held a rare stone of wondrous lustre, and she gave it to the tire-woman, who took it to the prince, telling him that Torfrida saw that he was indeed a gentle prince and knight. So the prince went down to the hall again and the barons laughed at him and nodded to each other, saying that the woman was too clever for him. The prince was angry and drank deep, and the waiting-woman told Torfrida what they were saying in the hall.