世界尽头的那口井-CHAPTER 22 An Adventure in the Wood
Ralph arrayed himself for departure next morning without more words;
and when he was ready the carline said to him: "When thou wentest
forth before, I was troubled at thy going and feared for thy returning:
but now I fear not; for I know that thou wilt return; though it may be
leading a fair woman by the hand. So go, and all luck go with thee."
Ralph smiled at her words and went his ways, and came into the wood
that lay due south from the Castle, and he went on and on and had no
thought of turning back. He rested twice and still went on, till the
fashion of the thickets and the woods changed about him; and at last
when the sun was getting low, he saw light gleaming through a great
wood of pines, which had long been dark before him against the tall
boles, and soon he came to the very edge of the wood, and going
heedfully, saw between the great stems of the outermost trees, a green
strand, and beyond it a long smooth water, a little lake between green
banks on either side. He came out of the pinewood on to the grass; but
there were thornbushes a few about, so that moving warily from one to
the other, he might perchance see without being seen. Warily he went
forsooth, going along the green strand to the east and the head of that
water, and saw how the bank sloped up gently from its ending toward the
pine-wood, in front of whose close-set trees stood three great-boled
tall oak-trees on a smooth piece of green sward. And now he saw that
there were folk come before him on this green place, and keen-sighted
as he was, could make out that three men were on the hither side of the
oak-trees, and on the further side of them was a white horse.
Thitherward then he made, stealing from bush to bush, since he deemed
that he needed not be seen of men who might be foes, for at the first
sight he had noted the gleam of weapons there. And now he had gone no
long way before he saw the westering sun shine brightly from a naked
sword, and then another sprang up to meet it, and he heard faintly the
clash of steel, and saw withal that the third of the folk had long and
light raiment and was a woman belike. Then he bettered his pace, and
in a minute or two came so near that he could see the men clearly, that
they were clad in knightly war-gear, and were laying on great strokes
so that the still place rang with the clatter. As for the woman, he
could see but little of her, because of the fighting men before her;
and the shadow of the oak boughs fell on her withal.
Now as he went, hidden by the bushes, they hid the men also from him,
and when he was come to the last bush, some fifty paces from them, and
peered out from it, in that very nick of time the two knights were
breathing them somewhat, and Ralph saw that one of them, the furthest
from him, was a very big man with a blue surcoat whereon was beaten a
great golden sun, and the other, whose back was towards Ralph, was clad
in black over his armour. Even as he looked and doubted whether to
show himself or not, he of the sun raised his sword aloft, and giving
forth a great roar as of wrath and grief mingled together, rushed on
his foe and smote so fiercely that he fell to the earth before him, and
the big man fell upon him as he fell, and let knee and sword-pommel and
fist follow the stroke, and there they wallowed on the earth together.
Straightway Ralph came forth from the bushes with his drawn sword in
his hand, and even therewith what with the two knights being both low
upon the earth, what with the woman herself coming from out the shadow
of the oak boughs, and turning her toward Ralph, he saw her clearly,
and stood staring and amazed—for lo! it was the Lady whom he had
delivered at the want-ways. His heart well nigh stood still with joy,
yet was he shamefaced also: for though now she was no longer clad in
that scanty raiment, yet did he seem to see her body through that which
covered it. But now her attire was but simple; a green gown, thin and
short, and thereover a cote-hardy of black cloth with orphreys of gold
and colours: but on her neck was a collar that seemed to him like to
that which Dame Katherine had given him; and the long tresses of her
hair, which he had erst seen floating loose about her, were wound as a
garland around her head. She looked with a flushed and joyous face on
Ralph, and seemed as if she heeded nought the battle of the knights,
but saw him only: but he feared her, and his love for her and stood
still, and durst not move forward to go to her.
Thus they abode for about the space of one minute: and meanwhile the
big man rose up on one knee and steadied him with his sword for a
moment of time, and the blade was bloody from the point half way up to
the hilt; but the black knight lay still and made no sign of life.
Then the Knight of the Sun rose up slowly and stood on his feet and
faced the Lady and seemed not to see Ralph, for his back was towards
him. He came slowly toward the Lady, scowling, and his face white as
chalk; then he spake to her coldly and sternly, stretching out his
bloody sword before her.
"I have done thy bidding, and slain my very earthly friend of friends
for thy sake. Wherewith wilt thou reward me?"
Then once more Ralph heard the voice, which he remembered so sweet
amidst peril and battle aforetime, as she said as coldly as the Knight:
"I bade thee not: thine own heart bade thee to strive with him because
thou deemedst that he loved me. Be content! thou hast slain him who
stood in thy way, as thou deemedst. Thinkest thou that I rejoice at
his slaying? O no! I grieve at it, for all that I had such good cause
to hate him."
He said: "My own heart! my own heart! Half of my heart biddeth me
slay thee, who hast made me slay him. What wilt thou give me?" She
knit her brow and spake angrily: "Leave to depart," she said. Then
after a while, and in a kinder voice: "And thus much of my love, that
I pray thee not to sorrow for me, but to have a good heart, and live as
a true knight should." He frowned: "Wilt thou not go with me?" said
he. "Not uncompelled," she said: "if thou biddest me go with threats
of hewing and mangling the body which thou sayest thou lovest, needs
must I go then. Yet scarce wilt thou do this."
"I have a mind to try it," said he; "If I set thee on thine horse and
bound thine hands for thee, and linked thy feet together under the
beast's belly; belike thou wouldest come. Shall I have slain my
brother-in-arms for nought?"
"Thou hast the mind," said she, "hast thou the might?" "So I deem,"
said he, smiling grimly.
She looked at him proudly and said: "Yea, but I misdoubt me thereof."
He still had his back to Ralph and was staring at the lady; she turned
her head a little and made a sign to Ralph, just as the Knight of the
Sun said: "Thou misdoubtest thee? Who shall help thee in the desert?"
"Look over thy left shoulder," she said. He turned, and saw Ralph
drawing near, sword in hand, smiling, but somewhat pale. He drew aback
from the Lady and, spinning round on his heel, faced Ralph, and cried
out: "Hah! Hast thou raised up a devil against me, thou sorceress, to
take from me my grief and my lust, and my life? Fair will the game be
to fight with thy devil as I have fought with my friend! Yet now I
know not whether I shall slay him or thee."
She spake not, but stood quietly looking on him, not unkindly, while a
wind came up from the water and played with a few light locks of hair
that hung down from that ruddy crown, and blew her raiment from her
feet and wrapped it close round her limbs; and Ralph beheld her, and
close as was the very death to him (for huge and most warrior-like was
his foeman) yet longing for her melted the heart within him, and he
felt the sweetness of life in his inmost soul as he had never felt it
before.
Suddenly the Knight of the Sun turned about to the Lady again, and fell
down on his knees before her, and clasped his hands as one praying, and
said: "Now pardon me all my words, I pray thee; and let this young man
depart unhurt, whether thou madest him, or hast but led him away from
country and friends and all. Then do thou come with me, and make some
semblance of loving me, and suffer me to love thee. And then shall all
be well, for in a few days we will go back to thy people, and there
will I be their lord or thy servant, or my brother's man, or what thou
wilt. O wilt thou not let the summer days be sweet?"
But she spake, holding up her head proudly and speaking in a clear
ringing voice: "I have said it, that uncompelled I will not go with
thee at all." And therewithal she turned her face toward Ralph, as she
might do on any chance-met courteous man, and he saw her smiling, but
she said nought to him, and gave no token of knowing him. Then the
Knight of the Sun sprang to his feet, and shook his sword above his
head and ran furiously on Ralph, who leapt nimbly on one side (else had
he been slain at once) and fetched a blow at the Sun-Knight, and smote
him, and brake the mails on his left shoulder, so that the blood
sprang, and fell on fiercely enough, smiting to right and left as the
other gave back at his first onset. But all was for nought, for the
Knight of the Sun, after his giving aback under that first stroke drew
himself up stark and stiff, and pressing on through all Ralph's
strokes, though they rent his mail here and there, ran within his
sword, and smote him furiously with the sword-pommel on the side of the
head, so that the young man of Upmeads could not stand up under the
weight of the blow, but fell to the earth swooning, and the Knight of
the Sun knelt on him, and drew out an anlace, short, thick and sharp,
and cried out: "Now, Devil, let see whether thou wilt bleed black."
Therewith he raised up his hand: but the weapon was stayed or ever it
fell, for the Lady had glided up to them when she saw that Ralph was
overcome, and now she stretched out her arm and caught hold of the
Knight's hand and the anlace withal, and he groaned and cried out:
"What now! thou art strong-armed as well as white-armed;" (for she had
rent the sleeve back from her right arm) and he laughed in the
extremity of his wrath. But she was pale and her lips quivered as she
said softly and sweetly: "Wilt thou verily slay this young man?"
"And why not?" said he, "since I have just slain the best friend that I
ever had, though he was nought willing to fight with me, and only for
this, that I saw thee toying with him; though forsooth thou hast said
truly that thou hadst more reason to hate him than love him. Well,
since thou wilt not have this youngling slain, I may deem at least that
he is no devil of thy making, else wouldst thou be glad of his slaying,
so that he might be out of the path of thee; so a man he is, and a
well-favoured one, and young; and valiant, as it seemeth: so I suppose
that he is thy lover, or will be one day—well then—"
And he lifted his hand again, but again she stayed him, and said: "Look
thou, I will buy him of thee: and, indeed, I owe him a life." "How is
that?" said he. "Why wouldst thou know?" she said; "thou who, if thou
hadst me in thine hands again, wouldst keep me away from all men. Yea,
I know what thou wouldst say, thou wouldst keep me from sinning again."
And she smiled, but bitterly. "Well, the tale is no long one: five
days ago I was taken by them of the Burg: and thou wottest what they
would do with me; yea, even if they deemed me less than they do deem
me: well, as two of their men-at-arms were leading me along by a
halter, as a calf is led to the butcher, we fell in with this goodly
lad, who slew them both in manly fashion, and I escaped for that time:
though, forsooth, I must needs put my neck in the noose again in
delivering four of our people, who would else have been tormented to
death by the Burgers."
"Well," said the knight, "perchance thou hast more mercy than I looked
for of thee; though I misdoubt thee that thou mayst yet pray me or some
other to slay him for thee. Thou art merciful, my Queen, though not to
me, and a churl were I if I were less merciful than thou. Therefore
will I give his life to him, yet not to thee will I give him if I may
help it—Lo you, Sweet! he is just opening his eyes."
Therewith he rose up from Ralph, who raised himself a little, and sat
up dazed and feeble. The Knight of the Sun stood up over him beside
the lady with his hands clasped on his sword-hilt, and said to Ralph:
"Young man, canst thou hear my words?" Ralph smiled feebly and nodded
a yea-say. "Dost thou love thy life then?" said the Knight. Ralph
found speech and said faintly, "Yea." Said the Knight: "Where dost
thou come from, where is thine home?" Said Ralph, "Upmeads." "Well
then," quoth the big knight, "go back to Upmeads, and live." Ralph
shook his head and knit his brows and said, "I will not." "Yea," said
the Knight, "thou wilt not live? Then must I shape me to thy humour.
Stand on thy feet and fight it out; for now I am cool I will not slay a
swordless man."
Ralph staggered up to his feet, but was so feeble still, that he sank
down again, and muttered: "I may not; I am sick and faint;" and
therewith swooned away again. But the Knight stood a while leaning on
his sword, and looking down on him not unkindly. Then he turned about
to the Lady, but lo! she had left his side. She had glided away, and
got to her horse, which was tethered on the other side of the oak-tree,
and had loosed him and mounted him, and so sat in the saddle there, the
reins gathered in her hands. She smiled on the knight as he stood
astonished, and cried to him; "Now, lord, I warn thee, draw not a
single foot nigher to me; for thou seest that I have Silverfax between
my knees, and thou knowest how swift he is, and if I see thee move, he
shall spring away with me. Thou wottest how well I know all the ways
of the woodland, and I tell thee that the ways behind me to the Dry
Tree be all safe and open, and that beyond the Gliding River I shall
come on Roger of the Ropewalk and his men. And if thou thinkest to
ride after me, and overtake me, cast the thought out of thy mind. For
thy horse is strong but heavy, as is meet for so big a knight, and
moreover he is many yards away from me and Silverfax: so before thou
art in the saddle, where shall I be? Yea," (for the Knight was
handling his anlace) "thou mayst cast it, and peradventure mayst hit
Silverfax and not me, and peradventure not; and I deem that it is my
body alive that thou wouldest have back with thee. So now, wilt thou
hearken?"
"Yea," quoth the knight, though for wrath he could scarce bring the
word from his mouth.
"Hearken," she said, "this is the bargain to be struck between us: even
now thou wouldst not refrain from slaying this young man, unless
perchance he should swear to depart from us; and as for me, I would not
go back with thee to Sunhome, where erst thou shamedst me. Now will I
buy thy nay-say with mine, and if thou give the youngling his life, and
suffer him to come his ways with us, then will I go home with thee and
will ride with thee in all the love and duty that I owe thee; or if
thou like this fashion of words better, I will give thee my body for
his life. But if thou likest not the bargain, there is not another
piece of goods for thee in the market, for then I will ride my ways to
the Dry Tree, and thou shalt slay the poor youth, or make of him thy
sworn friend, like as was Walter—which thou wilt."
So she spake, and Ralph yet lay on the grass and heard nought. But the
Knight's face was dark and swollen with anger as he answered: "My sworn
friend! yea, I understand thy gibe. I need not thy words to bring to
my mind how I have slain one sworn friend for thy sake."
"Nay," she said, "not for my sake, for thine own folly's sake." He
heeded her not, but went on: "And as for this one, I say again of him,
if he be not thy devil, then thou meanest him for thy lover. And now I
deem that I will verily slay him, ere he wake again; belike it were his
better luck."
She said: "I wot not why thou hagglest over the price of that thou
wouldest have. If thou have him along with thee, shall he not be in
thy power—as I shall be? and thou mayst slay him—or me—when thou
wilt."
"Yea," he said, grimly, "when thou art weary of him. O art thou not
shameless amongst women! Yet must I needs pay thy price, though my
honour and the welfare of my life go with it. Yet how if he have no
will to fare with us?" She laughed and said: "Then shalt thou have him
with thee as thy captive and thrall. Hast thou not conquered him in
battle?" He stood silent a moment and then he said: "Thou sayest it;
he shall come with me, will he, nill he, unarmed, and as a prisoner,
and the spoil of my valiancy." And he laughed, not altogether in
bitterness, but as if some joy were rising in his heart. "Now, my
Queen," said he, "the bargain is struck betwixt us, and thou mayest
light down off Silverfax; as for me, I will go fetch water from the
lake, that we may wake up this valiant and mighty youth, this newfound
jewel, and bring him to his wits again."
She answered nought, but rode her horse close to him and lighted down
nimbly, while his greedy eyes devoured her beauty. Then he took her
hand and drew her to him, and kissed her cheek, and she suffered it,
but kissed him not again. Then he took off his helm, and went down to
the lake to fetch up water therein.