CHAPTER VII

OF THE MEETING OF FEARGUS AND OSBERT

When the host of Penda was ready, so splendid it looked that no man had ever seen its like. By the king on either hand rode a company of kings and princes of royal blood to the number of thirty. They were English of Mercia, king Cadwalla of the Gwynedd, the British of Mercia, Southumbria, East Anglia and the fens, and even from Oswy’s own chiefly-Welsh kingdom of Northumbria; with Picts from Galloway and Lothian by the shores of Forth. It was a great and motley gathering of Christian and heathen, Angle and Kelt, and the king himself held the centre. Osbert was sent on before to gather in men whose dwellings lay by the way, and was to join the king at the Winwoed near Loidis or Leeds. Feargus longed to see Torfrida before the battle, for he knew that she was in her father’s camp and by the help of her brother Edwy thought to get speech of her; so he sent a trusty messenger to Edwy, and when they came by Nottingham he delayed and tarried behind, promising to meet the king seven days hence at the Winwoed field. So the king departed, taking with him the more part of his host, being the right wing and centre. And Feargus went forth on his great roan steed—there being few that could carry his bulk—and he donned his minstrel’s dress and entered the wood. After riding for four days he came near to where a great army was gathered, then tethering his beast to a tree he sat down. At the first glint of sunrise he heard the trampling of a horse through the dry leaves and Torfrida rode up hidden in the folds of a cloak of great size.

“At last, sweet one!” said he. “Dark it seemed while the mirk lay around, now thy presence maketh all the world bright.”

“Nay, now, this is but an ill time for fair speeches, brave Feargus; my heart is breaking with ill foreboding—nay, kisses cannot comfort me. Wilt spare my father, Feargus, and leave king Penda; hast thou no answer for me save a kiss?”

“So little value thou settest on my kisses, and yet the memory of the few thou gavest me, miser as thou art, is always with me.”

“I ask my father’s life and thou profferest a kiss; these thou canst give me in plenty, but thou canst not give me my father, Sigmund, when the arrows of king Penda have taken him once from me. A kiss for a life forsooth!”

“I would even now give my life for a kiss, Torfrida, but king Penda’s I may not give. What stirreth yon boughs? See! it is not the wind, for there is but little, and hark, the sound of hoofs! Torfrida, we are betrayed.”

“Oh, say not so. Fly, Feargus, they are my father’s men; fly, they will slay thee!”

“Thy father’s men or not, my red roan is little used to flying. Penda’s men are only taught to go right forward.”

“That shows how foolish men are; hide then thy sword that they may take thee for a peaceful minstrel, and I, thy lady.”

And so, guiding their horses aside behind the boll of a great tree, they waited until two horsemen appeared; at sight of them Feargus started. “Torfrida,” said he, “we are indeed lost—it is Osbert and Edgar; behind ride their men doubtless. Caught with the daughter of an enemy, sweetest, none will believe we are not plotting Penda’s downfall, and Osbert will take heed that none _shall_ believe.”

“Alas! thou wert ever too ready to run great risk.”

“Kiss me, Torfrida, for henceforth I shall be shorn of name and worship and the fellowship of brave men, and thou wilt no longer wish my company.”

“Nay, speak not thus; it is for me that thou hast risked all things.”

“What cheer, sir minstrel?” shouted the newcomers.

“And what ho! ha! a woman—thou sly dog; but surely thou art a stalwart fellow for a minstrel and great of limb; a better soldier thou wouldst make.”

“A man wants but a strong arm to be a soldier; a minstrel needeth heart and mind.”

“I see thou hast no stomach for the fight; th’art doubtless faint of soul.”

“Not more faint neither than thou art thyself.”

“Ha, ha! an insolent dog! Little of the minstrel is there in thee.”

“Get thee hence on thy journey; men of my calling are not used to be treated as slaves or sword-bearers; but for all that thou hast great backing I am not adread of thee.”

“Thou hast a saucy tongue, knave. Here, lead thou his horse, and now, minstrel, strike thou a song, my men are weary, and if thou canst not play then shall ye lose your lady.”

So Feargus struck his harp, knowing that it would be fatal to him if the news of his disobedience to his oath reached the king through Osbert. So they were mighty pleased with his playing, and all would have been well and the evil of all that day had never been, but Edgar, who was riding nearest, suddenly cried: “Thou art a cunning knave, thou minstrel; thy lady hath a graceful figure, surely she will be fair of face also.” So saying he drew aside the veil that covered her face and Osbert cried out—

“Torfrida!”

But hardly had the hand of Edgar reached his side again before, with his master’s touch, the great red beast of Feargus turned swiftly and the giant minstrel, seizing his harp in both his hands, struck Edgar with it so hard that the dead face of him was such that no man knew it for that of Edgar. And so fell the third captain of king Penda.

Then said Osbert in great rage, “Stay, bowmen, your hands; back, carls, _I_ will deal, for he hath slain my kinsman.”

Then the beast of Feargus swerved round again and faced the thane as he drew his sword.

“Nay,” said Feargus; “enough bale hath been wrought already, Osbert, and I would that thou and thy rash kinsman, whom I have slain thus hastily in high blood, should be with me on the right hand and on the left of king Penda on the day of battle. Nay, I will not do further hurt to the cause of our king by the slaying of thee; but when his enemies are scattered we can settle this quarrel—for I am Feargus.”

“Then have we here a traitor caught with the daughter of our enemy, Sigmund. Long hast thou deserved death, and now shalt thou have it, for thou hast shamed me by the slaying of my kinsman.”

“No traitor am I, Osbert, to Penda, only in trysting with the lady Torfrida, else what need had I to meet my lady in the wood, and in secret, when in this guise I might have entered the very courts of king Sigmund.”

“Defend thee, traitor,” cried Osbert, fiercely drawing his brand.

“Nay, a tryst have you and I with king Penda by the waters of Aire. Thou wouldst right thine own wrongs at Penda’s cost, but such am not I.”

“Then a coward I brand thee, and a traitor, before these my men,” and so saying he smote Feargus with his sheathed sword.

“Now, thou fool,” said Feargus, “thou shalt have thy wish, for no other choice thou leavest me.”

And then the men fell back and cleared a space, and Osbert rushed upon his antagonist and plied his sword until the sweat poured down from the brows of the both of them, and yet Feargus forbore to strike, for sake of Penda, and when Osbert was aweary he said—

“Now for the king’s sake let us stop this hand-play, or of a surety we will be too late to tryst with him by the waters of Aire, for thou well knowest that the king will not wait if the enemy showeth himself, but, branding us both as traitors to him, will fall to the fighting.”

Osbert made no answer, but, being breathed, rushed again upon his foe, so angry was he to be shamed before Torfrida and so full of jealousy of Feargus. Long time they fought while the day wore on, and then Feargus saw that unless he slew the thane he would himself be slain, and all the men marvelled at his swordsmanship that could keep so renowned and fierce a sword-player off so long, for neither of them had any hurt.

At length Feargus turned upon his foe and they met together with a great shock, and the helm of Osbert fell in sunder two ways and his shield fell another and his sword was bursted at the hilt and he staggered back as a ship starts that hath struck ground. And then Feargus turned aside, not wishing to slay him, though like a dead man he lay for many a month.