Christopher looked on him wrathfully with reddened face, and cried out: "Thou dog! wouldst thou be an earl and rule the folk? What more dost thou want?"

"This!" cried out Simon, and leapt upon him, knife aloft. Christopher was unarmed utterly; but he caught hold of the felon's right arm with his right hand, and gripped the wrist till he shrieked; then he raised up his mighty left hand, and drave it down on Simon's head by the ear, and all gave way before it, and the murderer fell crushed and dead to earth.

Therewith came in the man-at-arms to tell him that the horse was come; but stared wild when he saw the dead man on the ground. But Christopher said: "My lad, here hath been one who would have thrust a knife into an unarmed man, wherefore I must needs give him his wages. But now thou hast this to do: take thou this dead man and bind him so fast on the horse thou hast brought that he will not come off till the bindings be undone; and bind withal the head of this other, who was once a great man and an evil, before the slayer of him, so that it also may be fast; then get thee to horse and lead this beast and its burden till ye are well on the highway to Oakenham, and then let him go and find his way to the gate of the city if G.o.d will. And hearken, my lad; seest thou this gold which lieth scattering on the floor here? this was mine, but is no longer, since I have given it away to the dead man just before he lifted his hand against me. Wherefore now I will keep it for thee against thou comest back safe to me in the morning betimes, as I deem thou wilt, if thou wilt behight to St. Julian the helping of some poor body on the road. Go therefore, but send hither the guard; for I am weary now, and would go to sleep without slaying any man else."

So departed the man full of joy, and Christopher gathered his money together again, and so fared to his bed peacefully.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI. KING CHRISTOPHER COMES TO OAKENHAM.

But on the morrow the first man who came to the King was the man-at-arms aforesaid; and he told that he had done the King's errand, and ridden a five miles on the road to Oakenham before he had left the horse with his felon load, and that he had found nought stirring all that way when he had pa.s.sed through their own out-guards, where folk knew him and let him go freely. "And," quoth he, "it is like enough that this gift to Oakenham, Lord King, has by now come to the gate thereof." Then the King gave that man the gold which he had promised, and he kissed the King's hand and went his ways a happy man.

Thereafter sent Christopher for Jack of the Tofts, and told him in few words what had betid, and that Rolf the traitor was dead. Then spake Jack: "King and fosterling, never hath so mighty a warrior as thou waged so easy a war for so goodly a kingdom as thou hast done; for surely thy war was ended last night, wherefore will we straight to Oakenham, if so thou wilt. But if it be thy pleasure I will send a chosen band of riders to wend on the spur thereto, and bid them get ready thy kingly house, and give word to the Barons and the Prelates, and the chiefs of the Knighthood, and the Mayor and the Aldermen, and the Masters of the Crafts, to show themselves of what mind they be towards thee. But I doubt it not that they will deem of thee as thy father come back again and grown young once more."

Now was Christopher eager well nigh unto weeping to behold his people that he should live amongst, and gladly he yea-said the word of Jack of the Tofts. So were those riders sent forward; and the host was ordered, and Christopher rode amidst it with Goldilind by his side; and the sun was not yet gone down when they came within sight of the gate of Oakenham, and there before the gate and in the fields on either side of it was gathered a very great and goodly throng, and there went forth from it to meet the King the Bishop of Oakenham, and the Abbot of St.

Mary's and the Priors of the other houses of religion, all fairly clad in broidered copes, with the clerks and the monks dight full solemnly; and they came singing to meet him, and the Bishop blessed him and gave him the hallowed bread, and the King greeted him and craved his prayers.

Then came the Burgreve of Oakenham, and with him the Barons and the Knights, and they knelt before him, and named him to king, and the Burgreve gave him the keys of the city. Thereafter came the Mayor and the Aldermen, and the Masters of the Crafts, and they craved his favour, and warding of his mighty sword; and all these he greeted kindly and meekly, rather as a friend than as a great lord.

Thereafter were the gates opened, and King Christopher entered, and there was no gainsaying, and none spake a word of the Traitor Rolf.

But the bells of the minster and of all the churches rang merrily, and songs were sung sweetly by fair women gloriously clad; and whereas King Christopher and Queen Goldilind had lighted down from their horses and went afoot through the street, roses and all kinds of sweet flowers were cast down before the feet of them all the way from the city gate to the King's High House of Oakenham.

There then in the great hall of his father's house stood Christopher the King on the dais, and Goldilind beside him. And Jack of the Tofts and the chiefest of the Captains, and the Bishop, and the greatest lords of the Barons, and the doughtiest of the Knights, and the Mayor and the Aldermen, and the Masters of the Crafts, sat at the banquet with the King and his mate; they brake bread together and drank cups of renown, till the voidee cup was borne in. Then at last were the King & the Queen brought to their chamber with string-play and songs and all kinds of triumph; and that first night since he lay in his mother's womb did Child Christopher fall asleep in the house which the fathers had builded for him.

CHAPTER x.x.xVII. OF CHILD CHRISTOPHER'S DEALINGS WITH HIS FRIENDS & HIS FOLK.

It was in the morning when King Christopher arose, and Goldilind stood before him in the kingly chamber, that he clipped her and kissed her, and said: "This is the very chamber whence my father departed when he went to his last battle, and left my mother sickening with the coming birth of me. And never came he back hither, nor did mine eyes behold him ever. Here also lay my mother and gave birth to me, and died of sorrow, and her also I never saw, save with eyes that noted nought that I might remember. And my third kinsman was the traitor, that cast me forth of mine heritage, and looked to it that I should wax up as a churl, and lose all hope of high deeds; and at the last he strove to slay me.

"Therefore, sweet, have I no kindred, and none that are bound to cherish me, and it is for thee to take the place of them, and be unto me both father and mother, and brother and sister, and all kindred."

She said: "My mother I never saw, and I was but little when my father died; and if I had any kindred thereafter they loved me not well enough to strike one stroke for me, nay, or to speak a word even, when I was thrust out of my place and delivered over to the hands of pitiless people, and my captivity worsened on me as the years grew. Wherefore to me also art thou in the stead of all kindred and affinity."

Now Christopher took counsel with Jack of the Tofts and the great men of the kingdom, and that same day, the first day of his kingship in Oakenham, was summoned a great mote of the whole folk; and in half a month was it holden, and thereat was Christopher taken to king with none gainsaying.

Began now fair life for the people of Oakenrealm; for Jack of the Tofts abode about the King in Oakenham; and wise was his counsel, and there was no greed in him, and yet he wotted of greed and guile in others, and warned the King thereof when he saw it, and the tyrants were brought low, and no poor and simple man had need to thieve. As for Christopher, he loved better to give than to take; and the grief and sorrow of folk irked him sorely; it was to him as if he had gotten a wound when he saw so much as one unhappy face in a day; and all folk loved him, and the fame of him went abroad through the lands and the roads of travel, so that many were the wise and valiant folk that left their own land and came into Oakenrealm to dwell there, because of the good peace and the kindliness that there did abound; so that Oakenrealm became both many-peopled and joyous.

Though Jack of the Tofts abode with the King at Oakenham, his sons went back to the Tofts, and Gilbert was deemed the head man of them; folk gathered to them there, and the wilderness about them became builded in many places, and the Tofts grew into a goodly cheaping town, for those brethren looked to it that all roads in the woodland should be safe and at peace, so that no chapman need to arm him or his folk; nay, a maiden might go to and fro on the woodland ways, with a golden girdle about her, without so much as the crumpling of a lap of her gown unless by her own will.

As to David, at first Christopher bade him strongly to abide with him ever, for he loved him much. But David nay-said it, and would go home to the Tofts; and when the King pressed him sore, at last he said: "Friend and fellow, I must now tell thee the very sooth, and then shalt thou suffer me to depart, though the sundering be but sorrow to me. For this it is, that I love thy Lady and wife more than meet is, and here I find it hard to thole my desire and my grief; but down in the thicket yonder amongst my brethren of the woods, and man and maid, and wife and babe, nay, the very deer of the forest, I shall become a man again, and be no more a peevish and grudging fool; and as the years wear, shall sorrow wear, and then, who knows but we may come together again."

Then Christopher smiled kindly on him and embraced him, but they spake no more of that matter, but sat talking a while, and then bade each other farewell, and David went his ways to the Tofts. But a few months thereafter, when a son had been born to Christopher, David came to Oakenrealm, but stayed there no longer than to greet the King, and do him to wit that he was boun for over-sea to seek adventure. Many gifts the King gave him, and they sundered in all loving-kindness, and the King said: "Farewell, friend, I shall remember thee and thy kindness for ever." But David said: "By the roof in Littledale and by the hearth thereof, thou shalt be ever in my mind."

Thus they parted for that time; but five and twenty years afterwards, when Child Christopher was in his most might and majesty, and Goldilind was yet alive and lovely, and sons and daughters sat about their board, it was the Yule feast in the King's Hall at Oakenham, and there came a man into the hall that none knew, big of stature, grey-eyed and hollow-cheeked, with red hair grizzled, and worn with the helm; a weaponed man, chieftain-like and warrior-like. And when the serving-men asked him of his name, and whence and whither, he said: "I have come from over-seas to look upon the King, and when he seeth me he will know my name." Then he put them all aside and would not be gainsaid, but strode up the hall to the high-seat, and stood before the King and said: "Hail, little King Christopher! Hail, stout babe of the woodland!"

Then the King looked on him and knew him at once, and stood up at once with a glad cry, and came round unto him, and took his arms about him and kissed him, and led him into the high-seat, and set him betwixt him and Goldilind, and she also greeted him and took him by the hand and kissed him; and Jack of the Tofts, now a very old man, but yet hale and stark, who sat on the left hand of the King, leaned toward him and kissed him and blessed him; for lo! it was David of the Tofts.

Spake he now and said: "Christopher, this is now a happy day!"

Said the King: "David, whither away hence, and what is thine heart set upon?"

"On the renewal of our youth," said David, "and the abiding with thee.

By my will no further will I go than this thine house. How sayest thou?"

"As thou dost," said Christopher, "that this is indeed a happy day; drink out of my cup now, to our abiding together, and the end of sundering till the last cometh."

So they drank together, they two, and were happy amidst the folk of the hall; and at last the King stood up and spake aloud, and did all to wit that this was his friend and fellow of the old days; and he told of his doughty deeds, whereof he had heard many a tale, and treasured them in his heart while they were apart, and he bade men honour him, all such as would be his friends. And all men rejoiced at the coming of this doughty man and the friend of the King.

So there abode David, holden in all honour, and in great love of Child Christopher and Goldilind; and when his father died, his earldom did the King give to David his friend, who never sundered from him again, but was with him in peace and in war, in joy and in sorrow.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII. OF MATTERS OF MEADHAM.

GOES the tale back now to the time when the kingship of Child Christopher was scarce more than one month old; and tells that as the King sat with his Queen in the cool of his garden on a morning of August, there came to him a swain of service, who did him to wit that an outland lord was come, and would see him and give him a message.

So the King bade bring him in to the garden to him straight-way; so the man went, and came back again leading in a knight somewhat stricken in years, on whose green surcoat was beaten a golden lion.

He came to those twain and did obeisance to them, but spake, as it seemed, to Goldilind alone: "Lady, and Queen of Meadham," said he, "it is unto thee, first of all, that mine errand is."

Then she spoke and said: "Welcome to thee, Sir Castellan of Greenharbour, we shall hear thy words gladly."

Said the new-comer: "Lady, I am no longer the Burgreve of Greenharbour, but Sir Guisebert, lord of the Green March, and thy true servant and a suitor for thy grace and pardon."

"I pardon thee not, but thank thee for what thou didst of good to me,"

said Goldilind, "and I think that now thine errand shall be friendly."

Then turned the Green Knight to the King, and he said: "Have I thy leave to speak, Lord King?" and he smiled covertly.

But Christopher looked on the face and coat-armour of him, and called him to mind as the man who had stood betwixt him and present death that morning in the porch of the Littledale house; so he looked on him friendly, and said: "My leave thou hast, Sir Knight, to speak fully and freely, and that the more as meseemeth I saw thee first when thou hadst weaponed men at thy back, and wert turning their staves away from my breast."

"Even so it is, Lord King," said the Knight; "and to say sooth, I fear thee less for thy kingship, than because I wot well that thou mayst lightly take me up by the small of my back and cast me over thy shoulder if thou have a mind therefor."

Christopher laughed at his word, and bade him sit down upon the green gra.s.s and tell his errand straightway; and the Knight tarried not, but spake out: "Queen of Meadham, I am a friend and fellow, and in some sort a servant, to Earl Geoffrey, Regent of Meadham, whom thou knowest; and he hath put a word in my mouth which is both short and easy for me to tell. All goes awry in Meadham now, and men are arming against each other, and will presently be warring, but if thou look to it; because all this is for lack of thee. But if thou wilt vouchsafe to come to Meadhamstead, and sit on thy throne for a little while, commanding and forbidding; and if thou wilt appoint one of the lords for thine Earl there, and others for thy captains, and governors and burgreves and so forth; then if the people see thee and hear thee, the swords will go into their sheaths, and the spears will hang on the wall again, and we shall have peace in Meadham, for all will do thy bidding. Wherefore, Lady and Queen, I beseech thee to come to us, and stave off the riot and ruin. What sayest thou?"

Goldilind made answer in a while: "Sir Guisebert, true it is that I long to see my people, and to look once more on my father's house, and the place where he was born and died. But how know I but this is some wile of Earl Geoffrey, for he hath not been abounding in trustiness toward us?"

But Sir Guisebert swore on his salvation that there was no guile therein, and they were undone save Goldilind came unto them. Then spake Christopher: "Sir Knight, I am willing to pleasure my Lady, who, as I can see, longeth to behold her own land and people; and also by thy voice and thy face I deem that thou art not lying unto me, and that no harm will befall the Lady; yet will I ask thee right out what thou and thy lord would think thereof if she come into Meadham accompanied; to wit, if I rode with her, and had five hundreds of good riders at my back, would ye have guesting for so many and such stark lads?"

The Knight took up the word eagerly, and said: "Wilt thou but come, dear lord, and bring a thousand or more, then the surer and the safer it would be for us."