Part 8 (1/2)

song, and this poor a.s.s's bells--aye, and the flowers a-peep from the bank yonder. G.o.d give ye joy of it, tall brother, as he doth me and this goodly a.s.s betwixt my knees, patient beast.”

Now leaning on his quarter-staff Beltane smiled and said:

”How came ye by that same a.s.s, master bowman?”

”Well--I met a monk!” quoth the fellow with a gleam of white teeth. ”O!

a ponderous monk, brother, of most mighty girth of belly! Now, as ye see, though this a.s.s be sleek and fat as an abbot, she is something small. 'And shall so small a thing needs bear so great a mountain o'

flesh?' says I (much moved at the sight, brother). 'No, by the blessed bones of St. Giles (which is my patron saint, brother), so thereafter (by dint of a little persuasion, brother) my mountainous monk, to ease the poor beast's back, presently got him down and I, forthwith, got up-- as being more in proportion to her weight, sweet beast! O! surely ne'er saw I fairer morn than this, and never, in so fair a morn, saw I fairer man than thou, Sir Forester, nor taller, and I have seen many men in my day. Wherefore an so ye will, let us company together what time we may; 'tis a solitary road, and the tongue is a rare shortener of distance.”

So Beltane strode on beside this garrulous bowman, hearkening to his merry talk, yet himself speaking short and to the point as was ever his custom; as thus:

BOWMAN. ”How do men call thee, tall brother?”

BELTANE. ”Beltane.”

BOWMAN. ”Ha! 'Tis a good name, forsooth I've heard worse--and yet, forsooth, I've heard better. Yet 'tis a fairish name--'twill serve. As for me, Giles Brabblecombe o' the Hills men call me, for 'twas in the hill country I was born thirty odd years agone. Since then twelve sieges have I seen with skirmishes and onfalls thrice as many. Death have I beheld in many and divers shapes and in experience of wounds and dangers am rich, though, by St. Giles (my patron saint), in little else. Yet do I love life the better, therefore, and I have read that 'to despise gold is to be rich.'”

BELTANE. ”Do all bowmen read, then?”

BOWMAN. ”Why look ye, brother, I am not what I was aforetime--_non sum quails eram _--I was bred a shaveling, a mumbler, a be-gowned do-nothing--brother, I was a monk, but the flesh and the devil made of me a bowman, heigho--so wags the world! Though methinks I am a better bowman than ever I was a monk, having got me some repute with this my bow.”

BELTANE (shaking his head). ”Methinks thy choice was but a sorry one for--”

BOWMAN (laughing). ”Choice quotha! 'Twas no choice, 'twas forced upon me, _vi et armis._ I should be chanting prime or matins at this very hour but for this tongue o' mine, G.o.d bless it! For, when it should have been droning psalms, it was forever lilting forth some blithesome melody, some merry song of eyes and lips and stolen kisses. In such sort that the good brethren were wont to gather round and, listening,-- sigh! Whereof it chanced I was, one night, by order of the holy Prior, drubbed forth of the sacred precincts. So brother Anselm became Giles o' the Bow--the kind Saints be praised, in especial holy Saint Giles (which is my patron saint!). For, heed me--better the blue sky and the sweet, strong wind than the gloom and silence of a cloister. I had rather hide this sconce of mine in a hood of mail than in the mitre of a lord bishop--_nolo episcopare,_ good brother! Thus am I a fighter, and a good fighter, and a wise fighter, having learned 'tis better to live to fight than to fight to live.”

BELTANE. ”And for whom do ye fight?”

BOWMAN. ”For him that pays most, _pecuniae obediunt omnia,_ brother.”

BELTANE (frowning). ”Money? And nought beside?”

BOWMAN (staring). ”As what, brother?”

BELTANE. ”The justice of the cause wherefore ye fight.”

BOWMAN. ”Justice quotha--cause! O innocent brother, what have such matters to do with such as I? See you now, such lieth the case. You, let us say, being a baron (and therefore n.o.ble!) have a mind to a certain other baron's castle, or wife, or both--(the which is more usual) wherefore ye come to me, who am but a plain bowman knowing nought of the case, and you chaffer with me for the use of this my body for so much money, and thereafter I shoot my best on thy behalf as in mine honour bound. Thus have I fought both for and against Black Ivo throughout the length and breadth of his Duchy of Pentavalon. If ye be minded to sell that long sword o' thine, to none better market could ye come, for there be ever work for such about Black Ivo.”

BELTANE. ”Aye, 'tis so I hear.”

BOWMAN. ”Nor shall ye anywhere find a doughtier fighter than Duke Ivo, nor a leader quicker to spy out the vantage of position and attack.”

BELTANE. ”Is he so l.u.s.ty a man-at-arms?”

BOWMAN. ”With lance, axe, or sword he hath no match. I have seen him lead a charge. I have watched him fight afoot. I have stormed behind him through a breach, and I know of none dare cope with him--unless it be Sir Pertolepe the Red.”

BELTANE. ”Hast ne'er heard tell, then, of Benedict of Bourne?”

BOWMAN (clapping hand to thigh). ”Now by the blood and bones of St.

Giles 'tis so! Out o' the mouth of a babe and suckling am I corrected!

Verily if there be one to front Black Ivo 'tis Benedict o' the Mark. To behold these two at handstrokes--with axes--ha, there would be a sweet affray indeed--a sight for the eyes of holy archangels! Dost know aught of Sir Benedict, O Innocence?”