Now Hardcastle went on speaking to Osberne and said: "Well now, I will tell thee the way out of this thraldom, as thou wilt call it; and the more to thee, bairn, because thou wilt become my man and wilt be bold and deft, I doubt not; therefore thou shouldst learn early the fashions of great and bold men. Hearken! Ever when I offer to some man a lot that seemeth hard unto him, then I bid him, if it likes him not, to pitch me the hazelled field hard by his house, and we to go thereinto and see what point and edge may say to it; and if he slay me or hurt me so much I must be borne off the field within the four corners, then is he quit, and hath gained mickle glory of my body.

Moreover if he may not fight himself, yet will I meet any champion that he may choose to do battle with me. Now this is a good and n.o.ble custom of the bold, and hath been seemed so from long time agone. And indeed I deem pity of it that here today the goodman may not fight nor hath found any champion to fight for him. But three days' frist will I give him to find such a champion-- Thou wretch," said he to Stephen, "why wilt thou still skelly at me?"

"Because the champion is found," said Stephen in a snuffling voice.

Hardcastle snorted and his lip-beard bristled, but forth stood Osberne, and he still smiling; and he said: "Thou warrior, three things I offer thee to choose from, and the first is that thou depart hence, thou and thy man; because thou hast not dealt with us as a guest should, but hast smitten me and threatened all of us, and brazened out thy wrong-doing. This is the best way out of thy folly.

What sayest thou to it?" But such fury was in the ruffler's heart now, that he had no words for it, but rolled about in the high-seat snorting and blowing. Said Osberne: "I see thou wilt not take this way and that is the worse for thee. Now the next is that we hazel a field and fight therein. Wilt thou have this?" The champion roared out: "Yea, that will I! But in such wise that thou take sword and shield and I a bunch of birch twigs; and if I catch thee not and unbreech thee and whip thee as a grammar-master his scholar, then will I lay down sword and shield forever."

Said Osberne coldly: "Thou seest not that I am girt with a sword, and I tell thee it is a good one. Or wilt thou take Surly John's knife this morning and do as I did with it last night? And I did it for a warning to thee, but belike thou wert drunk and noted it not."

Hardcastle's face fell somewhat, for now he did remember the feat of the knife. But Osberne spake again: "I ask thee, warrior, wilt thou enter the field that I shall hazel for thee?" Quoth the ruffler, but in a lower voice: "I cannot fight with a boy; whether I slay him or am slain I am shamed."

Spake Osberne: "Then depart from the house with as little shame as a ruffler and a churl may have. But if thou wilt neither of these things, then it will befal that I shall draw my blade and fall on thee to slay thee, and make the most of it that here stands by me my man Stephen, a true and fearless carle, with his whittle bare in his hand.

And this I may well do, whereas, by thine own telling, thou art not in our house but in thine own."

Hardcastle lifted up his head, for he had hung it down a while, and said in a hoa.r.s.e voice: "Hazel the field for me then, and I will go therein with thee and slay thee." "That may well be," said Osberne, "--yet it may not be." Then he bade Stephen to go hazel the field in the flat meadows toward the river: and therewith he bethought him of his friend on the further side of the water, and how it might well be that he should never see her again, but lie slain on the meadow of Wethermel; and he wondered if tidings of the battle would go across the water and come unto her. But amidst his musings the harsh voice of Hardcastle reached his ears: he turned around with a start and heard how the ruffler said to him: "Let me see the sword, lad, wherewith thou wilt fight me." Osberne took the sheathed blade from his girdle and handed it to Hardcastle without a word, and the warrior fell at once to handling the peace-strings, but Osberne cried out: "Nay, warrior, meddle not with the peace-strings, for who knoweth what scathe may come of the baring of the blade within doors?" "Well, well," said Hardcastle, "but the blade must be out presently, and what harm if it be now?" Yet he took his hand from the weapon, and laid it on the board before him.

Osberne looked about him and saw that they two were alone in the hall now, for the others had gone down to look on the hazelling. So he spake quietly and said: "Warrior, is it not so, that thou hast in thine heart some foreboding of what shall befal?" Hardcastle answered nought, and Osberne went on: "I see that so it is, and meseems it were better for thee if this battle were unfought. Lo now, shall we not make peace in such wise that thou abide here this day in all honour holden, and in honour depart tomorrow morn, led out with such good gifts as shall please thee? Thus shalt thou have no shame, and everything untoward betwixt us shall be forgotten." Hardcastle shook his head and said: "Nay, lad, nay, the tale would get about, and shame would presently be on the wing towards me. We must stand within the hazel-garth against each other." Then he spake again, and a somewhat grim smile was on his face: "Awhile agone thou didst threaten to slay me with the help of yonder squinting loon, but now thou standest unarmed before me and I have thy sword under my hand. Hast thou no fear of what I may do to thee, since so it is that forebodings weigh on mine heart?"

"Nay, I am not afraid," said Osberne; "thou mayst be a bad man, yet not so bad as that."

"Sooth it is," said Hardcastle; "but I say again, thou art a valiant lad. Lo now, take thy sword again; but tell me, what armour of defence hast thou for this battle?"

"Nought save my shield," said Osberne; "there is a rusty steel hood stands yonder on the wall, but no byrny have we in the house."

Said Hardcastle: "Well, I may do so much as this for thee, I will leave all my defences here and go down in the hazels with nought but my sword in my fist, and thou shalt have thy shield; but I warn thee that Fiddlebow is a good blade."

Said Osberne, and smiled: "Well I wot that if thou get in but one downright stroke on me, little shall my shield avail me against Fiddlebow. Yet I take thine offer and thank thee for it. But this forthinketh me, that if thou live out this day thou wilt still betake thee to the same insolency and greediness and wrong-doing as thou hast shown yesterday and this morning."

Hardcastle laughed roughly and said: "Well, lad, I deem thou art right; wherefore slay me hardily if thou mayst, and rid the world of me. Yet hearken, of all my deeds I have no shame at all: though folk say some of them were ugly--let it be."

Therewith came Stephen into the hall, and he did them to wit that the hazels were pitched, and now he squinted no more.

Chapter XVII. The Slaying of Hardcastle

So they three went down together into the meadow, and there stood the others by the hazel-garth: the goodman cowering and abject, Surly John pale and anxious, and the two women clinging together in sore sorrow, the grandam weeping sorely. But as they pa.s.sed close by these last, Stephen touched the grandam and said to her: "Sawest thou ever King David the little?" "Nay," she said sobbing. "Look thou into the hazel-garth presently then," said he, "and thou shalt see him with eye."

So now they two stood in the hazelled field; it was two hours before noon, the sky was overcast with a promise of the first snow of the winter, but as yet none had fallen, and the field was dry and hard.

Now Hardcastle has Fiddlebow bare in his fist, but Osberne takes Boardcleaver from his girdle and unwinds the peace-strings; then he stands still for a moment and looks toward his foeman, who cries out at him: "Haste thee, lad, I were fain done with it." Then Osberne draws forth the blade, and it made a gleam of white in the grey day, and as the folk say who stood thereby, as Boardcleaver came forth bare there came a great humming sound all about. Then Osberne gets his shield on his arm, and cries out: "Now thou warrior!" and straightway Hardcastle comes leaping toward him, and Osberne abode him as he came on with uplifted sword, leapt lightly to one side, and thrust forth Boardcleaver and touched his side, so that all could see the blade had drunk a little blood. Fiercely and fast turned Hardcastle about on the lad, but therewith was he within the ruffler's stroke, and Boardcleaver's point was steady before Osberne's breast, and met Hardcastle's side and made a great wound with the point, and the warrior staggered back, and his sword-point was lowered. Then cried out Osberne: "What! Thou wouldst unbreech me, wouldst thou? But now art thou unbreeched." For therewith Boardcleaver swept round backhanded and came back as swift as lightning, and the edge clave all the right flank and b.u.t.tock of him, so that the blood ran freely; and then as Hardcastle, still staggering, hove up his sword wildly, Osberne put the slant stroke aside with his shield and thrust forth Boardcleaver right at his breast, and the point went in, and the whole blade, as there were nought but dough before it, and Hardcastle, nigh rent in two, fell aback off the sword.

Osberne stood still a while looking on him, but Stephen ran up and knelt beside him, and felt his wrist and laid his hand on the breast, and then turned and looked up at Osberne, who knelt down beside him also and wiped the blood off Boardcleaver with a lap of the dead man's coat. Then he stood up and thrust the blade back into the sheath, and wound the peace-strings about it all. Then came the word into his mouth, and he sang:

Came sword and shield To the hazelled field Where the fey man fell At Wethermel: The grey blade grew glad In the hands of a lad, And the tall man and stark Leapt into the dark.

For the cleaver of war-boards came forth from his door And guided the hand of the lacking in lore.

But now is the blade In the dark sheath laid, And the peace-strings lull His heart o'erfull.

Up dale and down The hall-roofs brown Hang over the peace Of the year's increase.

No fear rendeth midnight and dieth the day With no foe save the winter that weareth away.

Then he cried out: "Draw nigh, goodman and grandsire, and take again the house and lands of Wethermel, as ye had them aforetime before yesterday was a day." So the goodman came to him and kissed him and thanked him kind and humbly, and the women came and embraced him and hung about him. As for Surly John, he had slunk away so soon as he saw the fall of his master, and now when they looked around for him, they saw him but as a fleck going swiftly down the Dale. Thereat they all laughed together, and the laughter eased their hearts, so that they felt free and happy.

"Now," said Stephen, "what shall we do with this carca.s.s, that was so fierce and fell this morning?" Said Osberne: "We shall lay him in earth here in his raiment as he fell, since he died in manly wise, though belike he has lived as a beast. But his sword I will give to thee in reward for thy trusty following both now and at other times."

So Stephen fetched mattock and pick, and dug a grave for that champion amidwards of the hazel-garth, and there they laid him, and heaped up mould and stones over his grave; and to this day it is called Hardcastle's Howe there, or for short, and that the oftenest, Hardcastle.

So they went all of them up to the house, and were merry and joyful.

Chapter XVIII. Elfhild Hears of the Slaying

But two days after this was the tryst-day for Osberne to see his over-water friend, and he went soberly enough, and came to the water-side and found her over against him; and she asked of him tidings. "Tidings enough," said he, "for now have I done a deed beyond my years, a deed unmeet for a child; to wit, I have slain a man."

"O," she said, "and didst thou sleep after the deed?" Said Osberne: "Yea, and dreamed never a deal. But I must tell thee I was in my right."

Said Elfhild: "What did he to thee that thou must slay him?" Osberne said: "He came swaggering into our house and would take all to him, and put all of us to the road or hold us in thraldom." She said "But tell me, how didst thou slay him? Was he drunk or asleep?" "Nay," said he, "I was champion for my grandsire, and the robber had a sword in his fist, and I another and we fought, and I overcame him." Said the maiden: "But was he mannikin or a dastard, or unskilled in weapons?"

Spake Osberne, reddening: "He was a stark carle, a bold man, and was said to be of all prowess."

She said nothing a while, but stood pale and downcast. And he said: "What is this, playmate? I looked to have much praise from thee for my deed. Dost thou know that this man was as the pest to all the country-side, and that I have freed men of peace from a curse?" "Be not wrath with me, Osberne," she said, "indeed I am somewhat downcast; for I see that now thou wilt be no playmate for me, but wilt be a man before thy time, and wilt be looking towards such things as men desire; and that tall maidens come to womanhood will be for thee, not quaint rags of children such as I be."

"Now, Elfhild," said he, "why wilt thou run to meet trouble half way?

Am I worser to thee than I was last time?" "Nay," she said, "and indeed I deem thee glorious, and it is kind and kind of thee to come to me ever, and not to miss one of our trysts."

"Now thou art dear," said Osberne; "and wilt thou do something for my disport? wilt thou pipe thy sheep to thee?"

"Nay," said she, "I will not; I will not skip like an antic, and show thee my poor little spindle legs. If I were a woman grown I should scarce show so much as the ankle of my foot. Besides, thou laughest at my hopping and jumping amongst these foolish woolly beasts, and I would not have thee laughing at me."

"Elfhild my dear," said he, "thou art wrong. When I have laughed, it was never in mockery of thee, but for pleasure of thy pretty ways and the daintiness of thy dancing, which is like to the linden leaves on a fresh summer morning."

"But how am I to know that?" she said. "Well, at any rate, ask me not to dance today. But I will sit down and tell thee a very sweet tale of old times, which thou hast never erst heard. It is about the sea and ships, and of a sea-wife coming into the dwellings of men." Quoth Osberne, "I were fain to look on the sea and to sail it." "Yea," said Elfhild, "but thou wilt take me with thee, wilt thou not?" "O yea,"

said Osberne. And they both forgat the Sundering Flood, and how they should never meet, as they sat each side of the fearful water, and the tale and sweet speech sped to and fro betwixt them. So a fair ending had that day of tryst.

Chapter XIX. The Winter Pa.s.ses and Elfhild Tells of the Death of Her Kinswoman

Now Osberne and Stephen both give rede to the goodman, and bid him live somewhat less n.i.g.g.ardly, since not only had they good store of victual and clothes and the like, which had been h.o.a.rded a long time, but also the gifts of Waywearer had stood them in good stead, and furthermore, the goodman was much bettered by the spoil of Hardcastle.

For he had left much wealth behind him, and chiefly in silver and gold; and all that he had left, save his weapons, had Osberne given to his grandsire. So the goodman heeded their words and let himself be talked over, and while winter was yet young and before there was any snow to hinder, he rode with Osberne down the Dale, and looked into many of the steads, and amongst others, were dwelt the damsel who had been paired with Osberne on the day of the mid-winter Cloven Mote. And he thought her fair and sweet, and she received him joyfully and kissed him; but he was scarce so ready for that as he was aforetime, for he deemed she kissed him as a child and not a man.

So by hook or by crook the goodman got him six hired folk; three men, two of whom were young, and three women, all young and one comely, one ill-favoured, and the other betwixt and between. It must be said by the way, that if he had abided the spring for getting these new folk he would scarce have hired them, for the repute of Wethermel for scant housekeeping had gone wide about; but when folk heard that Master Nicholas was hiring folk from mid-winter onwards, they were willing enough to go, whereas they deemed he would be changing his mind and becoming open-handed. So Nicholas rides back with his catch (for he had brought nags to horse them), and henceforth is good house kept at Wethermel, as good as anywhere in the Dale.

Again fared Osberne to the mid-winter Cloven Mote, and again was he mated to the above-said damsel, who hight Gertrude; and forsooth this time he deemed that she kissed him and caressed him not so wholly as a mere boy, though of such things ye may well deem he knew little. For she seemed to find it hard when they kissed, as paired folk are bound to do, to let her lips leave his, and when their hands parted at the end of the Mote she gave a great sigh, and put her cheek toward him for a parting kiss, which forsooth he gave her somewhat unheedfully; for he was looking hard toward the other sh.o.r.e to see if he could make out the shape of Elfhild amongst the women there; as he had done whenever he gat a chance of it all day long, but had failed wholly therein.

Three days afterward he kept tryst with Elfhild, and asked her if she had been at the Mote, and she told him No; that her aunts went every time but always left her behind. Then she said smiling: "And this time they have come back full of thy praises, for the tale of thee, and the slaying of the robber, has come over to our side; and one of them, the youngest, had thee shown to her by one of the folk, and she saith that thou art the fairest lad that ever was seen: and therein she is not far wrong."

He laughed and reddened, and told for tidings how he had fared at the Mote, and Elfhild belike was not best pleased to hear of the fair damsel who was so fond of kissing; but in all honesty she rejoiced when Osberne told how hard he had looked for her on the other side of the water. So they made the most of their short day, as indeed they had need to do, for through the winter, when the snow was on the earth and the gra.s.s grew not, the sheep were all shut up in the folds and the cotes, and there was no shepherding toward; so that Elfhild was hard put to it for some pretence for getting away from the house, and their trysts had to be further between them than they had been; and not seldom, moreover, Elfhild failed at the trysting-place, and Osberne had to go sorrowfully away, though well he wotted it was by no fault of his playmate.

So wore the winter tidingless, and spring came again, and again the two met oftener; and great feast they made the first day, when Elfhild came to the ness with her head and her loins wreathed with the winter wolfsbane. It was a warm and very clear day of February, and Elfhild of her own will piped to her sheep and danced amongst them; and Osberne looked on her eagerly, and he deemed that she had grown bigger and sleeker and fairer; and her feet and legs (for still she went barefoot) since they had not the summer tan on them, looked so dainty-white to him that sore he longed to stroke them and kiss them.