Red Eve: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

THE FIGHT BY THE RIVER

For a while Hugh and Eve heard nothing, but Grey Dick's ears were
sharper than theirs, quick as these might be. About half a minute later,
however, they caught the sound of horses' hoofs ringing on the hard
earth, followed by that of voices and the crackle of breaking reeds.

Two of the speakers appeared and pulled up their horses near by in a
dry hollow that lay between them and the river bank. Peeping between the
reeds that grew about the mouth of the earth-dwelling, Eve saw them.

"My father and the Frenchman," she whispered. "Look!" And she slid back
a little so that Hugh might see.

Peering through the stems of the undergrowth, set as it were in a little
frame against the red and ominous sky, the eyes of Hugh de Cressi fell
upon Sir Edmund Acour, a gallant, even a splendid-looking knight--that
was his first impression of him. Broad shouldered, graceful, in age
neither young nor old, clean featured, quick eyed, with a mobile mouth
and a little, square-cut beard, soft and languid voiced, black haired,
richly dressed in a fur robe, and mounted on a fine black horse, such
was the man.

Staring at Acour, and remembering that he, too, loved Red Eve, Hugh grew
suddenly ashamed. How could a mere merchant compare himself with this
magnificent lord, this high-bred, many-titled favourite of courts and
of fortune? How could he rival him, he who had never yet travelled
a hundred miles from the place where he was born, save once, when he
sailed on a trading voyage to Calais? As well might a hooded crow try to
match a peregrine that swooped to snatch away the dove from beneath its
claws. Yes, he, Hugh, was the grey crow, Eve was the dove whom he had
captured, and yonder shifty-eyed Count was the fleet, fierce peregrine
who soon would tear out his heart and bear the quarry far away. Hugh
shivered a little as the thought struck him, not with fear for himself,
but at the dread of that great and close bereavement.

The girl at his side felt the shiver, and her mind, quickened by
love and peril, guessed its purport. She said nothing, for words were
dangerous; only turning her beautiful face she pressed her lips upon
her lover's hand. It was her message to him; thereby, as he knew well,
humble as he might be, she acknowledged him her lord forever. I am with
you, said that kiss. Have no fear; in life or in death none shall divide
us. He looked at her with grateful eyes, and would have spoken had she
not placed her hand upon his mouth and pointed.

Acour was speaking in English, which he used with a strong French
accent.

"Well, we do not find your beautiful runaway, Sir John," he said, in a
clear and cultivated voice; "and although I am not vain, for my part
I cannot believe that she has come to such a place as this to meet a
merchant's clerk, she who should company with kings."

"Yet I fear it is so, Sir Edmund," answered Sir John Clavering, a stout,
dark man of middle age. "This girl of mine is very heady, as I give
warning you will find out when she is your wife. For years she has
set her fancy upon Hugh de Cressi; yes, since they were boy and girl
together, as I think, and while he lives I doubt she'll never change
it."

"While he lives--then why should he continue to live, Sir John?" asked
the Count indifferently. "Surely the world will not miss a chapman's
son!"

"The de Cressis are my kin, although I hate them, Sir Edmund. Also they
are rich and powerful, and have many friends in high places. If this
young man died by my command it would start a blood feud of which none
can tell the end, for, after all, he is nobly born."

"Then, Sir John, he shall die by mine. No, not at my own hands, since
I do not fight with traders. But I have those about me who are pretty
swordsmen and know how to pick a quarrel. Before a week is out there
will be a funeral in Dunwich."

"I know nothing of your men, and do not want to hear of their quarrels,
past or future," said Sir John testily.

"Of course not," answered the Count. "I pray you, forget my words. Name
of God! what an accursed and ill-omened spot is this. I feel as though
I were standing by my own grave--it came upon me suddenly." And he
shivered and turned pale.

Dick lifted his bow, but Hugh knocked the arrow aside ere he could loose
it.

"To those who talk of death, death often draws near," replied Clavering,
crossing himself, "though I find the place well enough, seeing the hour
and season."

"Do you--do you, Sir John? Look at that sky; look at the river beneath
which has turned to blood. Hark to the howl of the wind in the reeds and
the cry of the birds we cannot see. Ay, and look at our shadows on the
snow. Mine lies flat by a great hole, and yours rising against yonder
bank is that of a hooded man with hollow eyes--Death himself as I should
limn him! There, it is gone! What a fool am I, or how strong is that
wine of yours! Shall we be going also?"

"Nay, here comes my son with tidings. Well, Jack, have you found your
sister?" he added, addressing a dark and somewhat saturnine young man
who now rode up to them from over the crest of the hollow.

"No, sir, though we have beat the marsh through and through, so that
scarce an otter could have escaped us. And yet she's here, for Thomas of
Kessland caught sight of her red cloak among the reeds, and what's more,
Hugh de Cressi is with her, and Grey Dick too, for both were seen."

"I am glad there's a third," said Sir John drily, "though God save me
from his arrows! This Grey Dick," he added to the Count, "is a wild,
homeless half-wit whom they call Hugh de Cressi's shadow, but the finest
archer in Suffolk, with Norfolk thrown in; one who can put a shaft
through every button on your doublet at fifty paces--ay, and bring down
wild geese on the wing twice out of four times, for I have seen him do
it with that black bow of his."

"Indeed? Then I should like to see him shoot--at somebody else,"
answered Acour, for in those days such skill was of interest to all
soldiers. "Kill Hugh de Cressi if you will, friend, but spare Grey Dick;
he might be useful."

"Ay, Sir Edmund," broke in the young man furiously, "I'll kill him if I
can catch him, the dog who dares to bring scandal on my sister's name.
Let the Saints but give me five minutes face to face with him alone,
with none to help either of us, and I'll beat him to a pulp, and hang
what's left of him upon the nearest tree to be a warning to all such
puppies."

"I note the challenge," said Sir Edmund, "and should the chance come my
way will keep the lists for you with pleasure, since whatever this Hugh
may be I doubt that from his blood he'll prove no coward. But, young
sir, you must catch your puppy ere you hang him, and if he is in this
marsh he must have gone to ground."

"I think so, too, Sir Edmund; but, if so, we'll soon start the badger.
Look yonder." And he pointed to smoke rising at several spots half a
mile or more away.

"What have you done, son?" asked Sir John anxiously.

"Fired the reeds," he said with a savage laugh, "and set men to watch
that the game does not break back. Oh, have no fear, father! Red Eve
will take no harm. The girl ever loved fire. Moreover, if she is there
she will run to the water before it, and be caught."

"Fool," thundered Sir John, "do you know your sister so little? As like
as not she'll stay and burn, and then I'll lose my girl, who, when all
is said, is worth ten of you! Well, what is done cannot be undone, but
if death comes of this mad trick it is on your head, not mine! To the
bank, and watch with me, Sir Edmund, for we can do no more."

Ten minutes later, and the fugitives in the mound, peeping out from
their hole, saw clouds of smoke floating above them.

"You should have let me shoot, Master Hugh," said Grey Dick, in his
hard, dry whisper. "I'd have had these three, at least, and they'd have
been good company on the road to hell, which now we must walk alone."

"Nay," answered Hugh sternly, "I'll murder none, though they strive
to murder us, and these least of all," and he glanced at Eve, who sat
staring out of the mouth of the hole, her chin resting on her hand. "You
had best give in, sweetheart," he said hoarsely. "Fire is worse than
foes, and it draws near."

"I fear it less," she answered. "Moreover, marriage is worse than
either--sometimes."

Hugh took counsel with Grey Dick.

"This place will burn like tinder," he said, pointing to the dry reeds
which grew thickly all about them, and to the masses of brushwood and
other rubbish that had drifted against the side of the little mound
in times of flood. "If the fire reaches us we must perish of flame, or
smoke, or both."

"Ay," answered Dick, "like old witch Sarah when they burned her in
her house. She screeched a lot, though some say it was her cat that
screeched and she died mum."

"If we could get into the water now, Dick?"

He shook his ash-hued head.

"The pools are frozen. Moreover, as well die of heat as cold; I love not
ice-water."

"What counsel, then, Dick?"

"You'll not take the best, master--to loose my bow upon them. That fine
fellow did well to be afraid, for had you not knocked up my hand there'd
be an arrow sticking in his throat by now. He was right, Death walked
near to him."

"It must not be, Dick, unless they strike first. What else?"

"Perchance, when the smoke begins to trouble them, which it must soon,
they'll move. Then we will run for the river; 'tis but fifty yards. The
Lady Eve can swim like a duck, and so can you. The tide has turned, and
will bear you to the point, and I'll hold the bank against any who try
to follow, and take my chance. What say you of that plan, lady?"

"That it is good as another, or as bad," she answered indifferently.
"Let's bide where we are and do what we must when we must. Nay, waste no
more breath, Hugh. I'll not yield and go home like a naughty child to be
married. It was you who snatched away Grey Dick's shaft, not I; and now
I'll save myself."

"Red Eve!--that's Red Eve!" muttered the henchman, with a dry chuckle of
admiration. "The dead trouble neither man nor woman. Ah, she knows, she
knows!"

After this there was silence for a while, save for the roar of the fire
that ever drew more near.

Eve held her cloak pressed against her mouth to filter the smoke, which
grew thick.

"It is time to move," said Hugh, coughing as he spoke. "By Heaven's
grace, we are too late! Look!"

As he spoke, suddenly in the broad belt of reeds which lay between them
and the river bank fire appeared in several places, caused doubtless
by the flaming flakes which the strong wind had carried from behind
the mound. Moreover, these new fires, burning up briskly and joining
themselves together, began to advance toward the three in the hole.

"The wind has turned," said Dick. "Now it is fire, or water if you can
get there. How do you choose to die?" and as he spoke he unstrung his
bow and slipped it into its leathern case.

"Neither one way nor the other," answered Eve. "Some may die to-night,
but we shall not."

Hugh leapt up and took command.

"Cover your faces to the eyes, and run for it," he said. "I'll go first,
then you, Eve, and Dick behind. Make for the point and leap--the water
is deep there."

They sprang to their feet and forward into the reeds. When they were
almost at the edge of the fire a shout told them that they had been
seen. Eve, the swift of foot, outpaced Hugh, and was the first to leap
into that circle of tall flames. She was through it! They were all
through it, scorched but unharmed. Thirty paces away was the little
point of land where nothing grew, for the spring tides washed it, that
jutted out into the waters of the Blythe, and, perhaps a hundred
to their right, the Claverings poured down on them, foot and horse
together.

Hugh caught his foot in a willow root and fell. Eve and Grey Dick sped
onward unknowing. They reached the point above the water, turned, and
saw. Dick slipped his bow from its case, strung it, and set an arrow on
the string. Hugh had gained his feet, but a man who had come up sprang,
and cast his arms about him. Hugh threw him to the ground, for he was
very strong, and shook himself free. Then he drew the short and heavy
sword that he wore, and, shouting out, "Make way!" to those who stood
between him and the little promontory, started to run again.

These opened to the right and left to let him pass, for they feared the
look in his eyes and the steel in his hand. Only young John Clavering,
who had leapt from his horse, would not budge. As Hugh tried to push
past him, he struck him in the face, calling out:

"We have caught the de Cressi thief! Take him and hang him!"

At the insult of the blow and words, Hugh stopped dead and turned quite
white, whereupon the men, thinking that he was afraid, closed in upon
him. Then in the silence the harsh, croaking voice of Grey Dick was
heard saying:

"Sir John of Clavering, bid your people let my master go, or I will send
an arrow through your heart!" and he lifted the long bow and drew it.

Sir John muttered something, thinking that this was a poor way to die,
and again the men fell back, except one French knight, who, perhaps, did
not catch or understand his words.

This man stretched out his hand to seize Hugh, but before ever it fell
upon his shoulder the bow twanged and Acour's retainer was seen whirling
round and round, cursing with pain. In the palm of his hand was an arrow
that had sunk through it to the feathers.

"You are right; that knave shoots well," said the Count to Sir John, who
made no answer.

Now again all fell back, so that Hugh might have run for it if he would.
But his blood was up, and he did not stir.

"John Clavering," he said, addressing the young man, "just now, when
I lay hid in yonder hole, I heard you say that if you had five minutes
with me alone you'd beat me to a pulp and hang what was left of me on
the nearest tree. Well, here I stand, and there's a tree. Having first
tried to burn me and your sister, you have struck me in the face. Will
you make good your words, or shall I strike _you_ in the face and go my
way? Nay, keep your dogs off me! Grey Dick yonder has more arrows."

Now a tumult rose, some saying one thing and some another, but all
keeping an eye upon Grey Dick and his bent bow. At last Sir Edmund Acour
rode forward, and in his polished, stately way said to John:

"Young sir, this merchant is in the right, and whatever his trade may
be, his blood is as good as your own. After your brave words, either you
should fight him or take back the blow you gave."

Then he leaned down and whispered into John's ear:

"Your sword is longer than his. Make an end of him and of all his
trouble, lest men should laugh at you as an empty boaster."

Now John, who was brave and needed but little urging, turned to his
father and said:

"Have I your leave to whip this fellow, sir?"

"You should have asked that before you struck him in the face," replied
the knight. "You are a man grown. Do as best pleases you. Only if you
take the blow, begone from Blythburgh."

Then Eve, who all this time had been listening, called out from where
she stood above the river.

"Brother John, if you fight your cousin Hugh, who is my affianced
husband, and fall, on your own head be it, for know, your blood shall
not stand between him and me, since it was you who struck him, and not
he you. Be warned, John, and let him go, lest he should send you farther
than you wish to travel. And to you, Hugh, I say, though it is much to
ask, if he throws down his sword, forget that unknightly blow and come
thither."

"You hear," said Hugh shortly to John. "Now, because she is your sister,
if it's your will I'll begone in peace."

"Ay," answered John, setting his thin lips, "because you are a coward,
woman-thief, and seek to live that you may bring shame upon our House.
Well, that will pass when you die presently!"

"John, John, boast not," cried Eve. "Who has shown you where you will
sleep to-night?"

"Whether I shall live or die, God knows alone," said Hugh solemnly. "But
what I seek to know is, should it chance to be your lot to die, whether
your people or this Frenchman will set on me, or raise a blood-feud
against me. Tell me now, Sir John Clavering."

"If you kill my son in combat _� outrance_, he being the challenger,"
answered the knight, "none shall lift hand against you for that deed
if I can hold them back. But know that I have other cause of quarrel
against you"--and he pointed to his daughter--"and that if you meddle
more with her, who is not for you, certainly you shall die."

"And, young sir," broke in Sir Edmund, "I pray you to understand that
this Lady Eve to-morrow becomes my wife with the will of her father and
her kin; and that if you try to stand between us, although I may not
fight you, seeing what I am and what you are, I'll kill you like a rat
when and where I get the chance! Yes," he added, in a savage snarl, "I
pledge my knightly honour that I will kill you like a rat, if I must
follow you across the world to do so!"

"You will not have need to travel far if I have my will," answered the
young man sternly, "since Red Eve is mine, not yours, and, living or
dead, mine she will remain. As for your fine knightly honour, Sir Edmund
Acour, Count de Noyon, Seigneur of Cattrina, what has a traitor to his
King to do with honour, one who is here as a spy of Philip of France, as
the poor merchant's lad knows well? Oh, take you hand from your sword,
of which you say I am not worthy, and, since you say also that I have so
many enemies, let me begin with a squire of my own degree."

Now at these bold words arose a clamour of voices speaking in French and
English.

"What say you to this, Sir Edmund?" shouted Sir John Clavering above
them all. "You are a great lord and a wealthy, beloved by me also as the
affianced of my daughter, but I am a loyal Englishman who have no truck
with traitors to my King."

"What say I?" asked Sir Edmund calmly. "I say that if this fellow can
fight as well as he can lie, your son has but a poor chance with him.
As you know well, I came hither from France to visit my estates, not to
learn what strength his Grace of England, my liege lord, gathers for the
new war with Philip."

"Enough," said Sir John; "though this is the first I have heard of such
a war, for it would seem that you know more of King Edward's mind than
I do. The light begins to fail, there is no time for talk. Stand clear,
all men, and let these two settle it."

"Ay," croaked Grey Dick, "stand clear, all men, while my master cuts
the throat of his cousin Clavering, since he who stands not clear shall
presently lie straight!" and he tapped his terrible bow with his right
hand, then instantly seized the string again.

The two were face to face. Round them on horse and on foot, at a
distance perhaps of twenty paces, were gathered the Clavering men and
the French Count's troop; for now all had come up from the far parts of
the marsh. Only toward the river side the ring was open, whether because
those who made it feared Grey Dick's arrows, or in order that he and Red
Eve might see everything that chanced.

The pair were well matched, for though Hugh was the taller, John, his
senior by a year, was thicker set and better trained in arms. But the
sword of John was longer by a hand's breadth than that Hugh carried as
a merchant, which was heavy, of such a make as the ancient Romans used,
and sharpened on either edge. Neither of them wore armour, since Hugh
had no right to do so, and John had not come out to fight.

They stood still for a moment in the midst of a breathless silence, the
red light of the stormy sunset striking across them both. Everything was
red, the smoke-clouds rising from the sullen, burning marsh, into which
the fire was still eating far away; the waters of the Blythe brimful
with the tide that had just turned toward the sea, the snow and ice
itself. Even the triangle of wild swans brought by the hard weather from
the northern lands looked red as they pursued their heavy and majestic
flight toward the south, heedless of man and his affairs beneath.

Not long did these remain heedless, however, since, either to show his
skill or for some other purpose of his own, Grey Dick lifted his bow and
loosed an arrow, almost, it seemed, at hazard. Yet that arrow pierced
the leader of the flock, so that down it came in wide circles, and in
a last struggle hovered for a moment over the group of men, then fell
among them with a thud, the blood from its pierced breast bespattering
Sir Edmund Acour and John Clavering's black hair.

"An ill omen for those two, and especially for him who wears a white
swan for a crest," said a voice. But at the moment none took much
notice, except Grey Dick, who chuckled at the success of his shot, since
all were intent on greater matters--namely, which of those two young men
should die.

Sir John, the father, rode forward and addressed them.

"To the death without mercy to the fallen," he said grimly.

They bent their heads in answer.

"Now!" he cried, and reined back his horse.

"The first home thrust wins," whispered Acour to him, as he wiped the
blood of the swan off his sleeve. "Thank God, your son's sword is the
longer!"

Perhaps the pair heard this whisper, or, perhaps, being without mail,
they knew that it was so. At least for a while they circled round and
round each other, but out of reach.

Then at length John Clavering rushed in and thrust. Hugh sprang back
before his point. Again he rushed and thrust and again Hugh sprang
back. A third time and Hugh fairly ran, whereon a shout went up from the
Claverings.

"The chapman's afraid!" cried one. "Give him a yard measure," shouted
another; "he cannot handle steel!"

Eve turned her face, and her very eyes were sick with doubt.

"Is it true?" she gasped.

"Ay," answered Dick the Archer, "it's true that he draws him to the
river bank! Those who wait will learn why. Oh, the swan! He sees not the
swan!"

As he spoke, Hugh, in his retreat before another of John Clavering's
rushes, struck his foot against the great dead bird, and staggered. John
leapt upon him, and he went down.

"Is he pierced?" muttered Eve.

"Nay, missed," answered Dick, "by half an inch. Ah, I thought so!"

As the words left his lips Clavering fell sprawling on his back, for
Hugh had caught his leg with his left arm and thrown him, so that they
lay both together on the ground.

There they closed, rolling over each other, but too close to stab.

"Now good-night, John," said Dick, with his hoarse chuckle. "Throat him,
master--throat him!"

The flurry in the snow was at an end. John lay on his back, de Cressi
knelt on him and lifted his short sword.

"Do you yield?" men heard him say.

"Nay," answered Clavering. Then suddenly Hugh rose and suffered his
adversary to do likewise.

"I'll not stick you like a hog!" he said, and some cried, "Well done!"
for the act seemed noble. Only Acour muttered, "Fool!"

Next instant they were at it again, but this time it was Hugh who
attacked and John who gave back right to the river's edge, for skill and
courage seemed to fail him at once.

"Turn your head, lady," said Dick, "for now one must die." But Eve could
not.

The swords flashed for the last time in the red light, then that of de
Cressi vanished. Clavering threw his arms wide, and fell backward. A
splash as of a great stone thrown into water, and all was done.

Hugh stood a moment on the river's bank, staring at the stream beneath;
then he turned and began to walk slowly toward the dead swan.

Ere ever he reached it Sir John Clavering fell from his horse in a
swoon, and a shout of rage went up from all his people.

"Kill him!" they yelled, and leapt forward.

Now Hugh understood, and ran for the point of land. One man, a
Frenchman, got in front of him. He cut him down, and sped on.

"What now?" said Eve, as he joined them.

He did not answer, only pointed first to the Clavering folk and next to
the water, showing that she must choose between the two.

"Swim for it!" growled Grey Dick. "I'll hold them back a while and then
join you," and as he spoke his bow twanged.

For an instant Eve paused, then threw off her scarlet cloak.

"Remember, I slew your brother!" said Hugh hoarsely.

"I remember that he would have slain you," she answered; and leapt
straight from the point into the icy flood, beneath which her head sank.

When it rose again there was another head beside it, that of dead John,
who appeared for one moment, to be seen no more for ever, since ere
morning the ocean had him.

Now Hugh leapt after her, and presently the pair of them were swimming
side by side to the river's further shore. Then, as now, it was but a
narrow stream. Yet they did not reach it easily, for, cumbered as they
were with clothes, and numbed by the ice-cold water, the fierce tide
caught them and carried them beyond the bend. There they were lost in
the gathering darkness, so that most of those who watched believed that
they had sunk and drowned. But it was not so, for after a long struggle
they came safe to shore near to a clump of willows, and clambered over
the frozen mud to the heath beyond.

"First fire, then water," said Hugh, in a mazed voice.

"You have missed out love and death," answered the girl--"a full feast
for a day that is not done. But whither now?"

"To take sanctuary at the Preceptory and raise my kin. Forward, Eve, ere
you freeze."

"I think there is that in me which will not freeze," she answered; and
broke into a run.

Now night closed in, and the snow which had been threatening all day
began to fall, making their path over the heath difficult.

"We need Grey Dick to guide us; but alack, I fear he is dead!" muttered
Hugh.

"I think others will be dead, not Dick," she answered.

Just then they heard a footstep behind them.

Hugh wheeled round and drew his sword, but almost before it had left the
scabbard a long figure glided out of the snow, and said:

"More to the left, master, more to the left, unless you would make your
peace on Blythburgh bridge, where some would be glad to meet you."

"How went it?" asked Hugh shortly.

"Not well. I shot thrice and slew three men, two of the French knights,
and Thomas of Kessland, against whom I had a score that now is settled.
But the fourth time I missed."

"Who?" asked Eve between her teeth as she ran beside him.

"The Frenchman who means to marry you. When the others fell back he came
at me on his horse as I was setting a fresh arrow, thinking to get me. I
had to shoot quick, and aimed low for his heart, because in that light
I could not make certain of his face. He saw, and jerked up the horses
head, so that the shaft took it in the throat and killed the beast
without hurting its rider. He was off in an instant and at me, with
others, before I could draw again. So I thought it time to go, which I
did, backward, as he thrust. Perhaps he thinks he killed me, as I meant
he should, only when he looks at his sword he'll find it clean. That's
all."

And again Grey Dick chuckled.

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