Such a tale the Tambows of Shropshire can tell. Once, it is dimly understood, the narrative4 was written out, and even printed from types in Caxton's own press. If this be true, the book has long been lost. But the story is worth keeping.
Dickon looked at this time to be well on in his teens. He was so tall and stout5 a lad that grown men spoke6 to him, now and again, as to one of themselves. Just what his age might be, however, it lay beyond mortal power to discover. His mother was long since dead. His native hamlet had been wiped by fire and sword from the face of the earth.
His father could remember nothing more of Dickon's birth than that it was either just before the Battle of Bloreheath in Stafford, or soon after the fierce fight at Mortimer's Cross in Hereford. The one would make him sixteen years old, the other scarcely more than fourteen. Whether it was sixteen or fourteen no living soul in England cared.
There was as yet no other name for him than Dickon—that is to say, any securely fastened name. He had been called Smithson, and even Smith, by word of mouth among strangers. But the rough men close at hand commonly hailed him with oaths, which pointed7 to no surname whatever. Indeed, surnames were matters strictly8 for his betters—for gentlefolk, or at the least for thrifty9 yeomen with a dozen cows or fourscore sheep on a walk.
There could never have been a thought, therefore, in Dickon's head as to what name was likest to stick to him, since of all unlabelled hinds10 in Salop surely he was the lowliest.
Thought, in truth, is an over-fine word for aught that went forward in Dickon's brain. He knew only some few things more clearly than did the horses and dogs about him.
He did know, first of all, that his grim master, who lived up in the castle just above, was named Sir Watty Curdle11, and that the castle itself was Egswith. That he was Sir Watty's man was by far the most important thing there was for him to know; and that it might be kept always fresh before his eyes and patent to all others, this lord's device of two running hares, back to back, one turned upside down, was sewed upon the breast of Dickon's leather jerkin.
Dickon had more reasons for holding his master to be a foul12 ruffian and robber than the dumb brutes13 in stable and kennel14 could have possessed15, though doubtless they, too, were of the same opinion. He knew, furthermore, that the king was a tall and fine young man, because he had seen him after Tewksbury. He knew that the Lady Curdle came from Cheshire, which was reputed to lie northward16.
He knew that all men-at-arms who wore three stags' heads on their jackets were his natural enemies; and that it was thought better to be a soldier than the son of a smith. Sometimes he thought that it must be better to be dead than either.
Dickon's belongings17 were all on his back. He owned a thick shirt of rough woollen, which had been his share of the spoil of a Yorkist archer18, slain19 the year before in a fray20 on Craven highroad. Formerly21 the lad had been harassed22 by dreams that the dead man, all shivering and frosted over, had come back for his shirt, but these dreams were past long since, and he wore the shirt now like a second skin, so wholly did it seem a part of him.
Over this shirt was drawn23 his leather tunic24, which was becoming too tight. Under this were fastened with cowhide thongs25 the points of his old leathern hose, also strained now almost to bursting. His shoes were rude and worn contrivances of leather, bound on over ankle and instep with cords. His neck and tangled26 shock of yellow hair were hidden under a caped27 hood28 of coarse brown cloth.
In these garments he toiled29 miserably30 by day; in them he slept in his cold corner of the smithy floor by night. By night and day the solitary31 aspiration32 of his mind was for the time when he might escape his fathers curses and beatings, and bear a spear among the men-at-arms.
This chance came to him suddenly, on a December day, when the air over the Marches was so thick and gray and cold that men desired to fight, if only to keep their blood from chilling within them. Out of this chance proceeded strange things, the legend of which has lived these hundreds of years in Salop.
Sir Watty Curdle did what he dared toward being a law to himself. In the fastness of the Welsh mountains, just back of his domain33, there were always whisperings of new Lancastrian plots and bold adventures. These drifted to Egswith Castle, on its steep, ugly crag, and made an atmosphere of treason there which hung over the Marches like a fog.
That Sir Watty had a rushlight's choice between King Edward and Queen Margaret no one ever believed. If it had suited his ends he would as easily have been the king's man. But since the hated Stanleys were cheek by jowl with the king, there could be nothing for Sir Watty but the other side.
Besides, he had grievances34. That is to say, other gentlemen in the countryside had houses and fair daughters and plate and fat cattle. These things rankled35 in Sir Watty's mind.
Sir Watty rose on this December morning with his head clear from a month's carouse36, with his muscles itching37 for sharp work, and with the eager sniff38 of rapine in his nostrils39.
Word that sport was afoot ran presently about through the galleries and yards and clustering outer hovels within the high-perched walls of Egswith. Rough, brawny40 men forthwith dragged out haubergeons and sallets, and leathern jackets stuffed with wool, and smiled grimly over them and put them on.
Two troopers in sleeveless coats of plate mail, and heavy greaves and boots, came clanking down the jagged hill-path. They routed with loud halloos the threescore people who dwelt in the foul and toppling huts huddled42 at the foot of the crag, under the shadow of gray Egswith.
"Ho! Ho-o!" they bawled43. "Out with you—out! out! Your lord rides to-day!"
A bustling44 crowd arose on the instant. Strong men swarmed45 in the open. Some were sent into the fields with horns to summon yokels46 who were grubbing among the roots. Others haled forth41 armor and saddle-gear, and bows and spears, and shouted joyous47 quips from group to group.
Dull-browed women, with backs bent48 like beasts of burden, brought food and hoods49 and such tackle at command, in sulky silence. Half-clad children hung about the doorways50, gazing wonderingly. From the castle gates some horses were being led out; and about the high walls rang the shrill51 blare of trumpet-calls.
The two troopers, after setting all in motion outside, clanked their way into the smithy, and the black one, Morgan, he with a brutish face, seamed and gashed52 with red scars,—where only one eye remained to glare in rude arrogance,—kicked the door open, and cried out as he did so:
"Are you dead here, then? What are your ears for, fools? And no fire!"
Dickon crossed the floor of the smithy, and stood before the intruders.
"The old man will light fires no more," he said, with dogged indifference53, pointing a sidelong thumb to the bundle of straw at the tail of the forge, beneath the bellows54.
There, flat on his back, lay the smith, with wide-open, staring eyes, and a face of greenish-brazen hue55; his huge grizzled beard spread stiffly outward like the bristling56 collar of some unclean giant vulture.
"He was ever a surly swine," Morgan growled57. "Even as we need him most, he fails us thus!"
Dickon offered no opinion upon this. "It fell on him in the night," he said.
Morgan leant over as far as his iron casings permitted, to note what share of breath remained in the smith's body. Then he rose, and looked the lad from top to toe with his sullen58 single eye.
"Get you into his foot-gear, then, and follow on," he snarled59 curtly60.
Then for the first time the other man-at-arms spoke. He was a huge, reddish warrior61, with the shoulders of an ox, and a face which flamed forth from out the casings of his head-piece like a setting winter sun.
"Were it not better to leave him?" this Rawly asked. "If he chance to get his head broken, how will Sir Watty make shift for a smith?"
Morgan sneered62 this down. "The lout63 hath not the wit for the tenth part of a smith," he said. "Between this and Bromfield there are a dozen of the craft to be had at the bare mention of a halter."
Thus it was that a soldier's life opened before Dickon.
He made haste to don his father's sleeveless chain coat and sallet. Then, choosing a crossbow and sheaf of quarrels for himself, he gathered such other weapons as the smithy held, and carried them out into the open. Now the troop was forming, and the start close at hand.
The lad had seen many of these rallies for a raid; but this one, wherein he was to have part, had a new glory in his eyes. He rubbed shoulders with the men who were making ready against the ride. With the boldness of an equal he bore a hand to help them fit the armor to their backs. There was none to make him afraid. When a knavish64 hobler offered to force his cross-bow from him in exchange for a rusty65 pole-axe, Dickon smote66 him on the head with a full man's might and heart, and kept his weapon.
"Sir Watty came stalking down."
"Sir Watty came stalking down."
At last Sir Watty came stalking down the broken, winding67 path, with his chestnut68 stallion led prancing69 from rock to rock at his heels. Behind him came a score of men-at-arms, and then still other horses at halter.
The knight70 stopped on the boulder71 at the foot of the hill, that two men might lift him to the saddle. As he moved forward there arose a great, joyful72 shout and clanking bustle73 of men mounting to follow. Dickon was of the sorrier sort who must run on their own legs; but no man on armored steed was prouder than he.
Sir Watty sat with alert, poised74 lightness in his stirrups, as if the brigandines which cased him from nape to ankle had been of linen75 instead of close-set, burnished76 metal plates overlapping77 one the other like a fish's scales and planned with cunning joints78. Gilt79 nails studded the angles of this glittering suit, and the body of it was covered with green velvet80, with the two hares of Curdle wrought81 in gold upon the breast.
Unlike the lesser82 riders, he wore bascinet and gorget on head and neck, with light pauldrons, velvet-clad and shaped like eagles' talons83, running out to his shoulders over the scaled mail.
There were unnumbered tales as to how Sir Watty had come by this princely harness, all of a likeness84 in that they imputed85 its possession to plunder86. One might well credit this on looking at the man's face as he rode with lifted visor—the curved, bony, beak-like nose, the stone-gray eyes, the thin, brief line of lips twisted tight together—all as relentless87 and shrewd and cruel as something born of snake or hawk88.
Clustering at his back rode thirty men-at-arms, no other knight among them. There were unfrocked monks89, loose, wandering troopers, murderers, revolted townsmen and mere90 generic91 ruffians from anywhere on the face of the earth, all gathered to Egswith by the magnet of its lawless fame, and all risking life and facing punishment here and hereafter with Sir Watty because they knew him for a master knave92 and robber.
These wore ill-assorted armor, the random93 product of years of raiding—some nearly covered with iron, others with no more than a rusted94 haubergeon and battered95 sallet. Of weapons, too, there was as mongrel a show. Some bore hagbuts, or hand-guns, to be fired with powder, and had leather bags full of stone bullets hanging at their saddles. Among the others were crossbows with wyndacs and without, lances, bills, long and short pole-axes, and even spiked96 clubs of iron.
Dickon joined the score of footmen who turned into the road as the cavalcade97 filed by.
For a little these all trudged98 behind the horses, bearing their lighter99 cuirasses and caps and their long or cross-bows with easy spirits. It was a morning made for walking, with black frost holding the ground so stiff that it rang like stone under the clattering100 hoofs101 ahead. A sharp air tweaked nostrils and ears, and made the blood glow even in churlish veins102.
It was to the footmen nothing short of delight to stride onward103 thus, with a captain in front who feared naught104, and on one's shoulder a weapon of death.
Later in the day, when their course lay over a rough moorland stretch where bleak106 winds whistled, and hunger began to gnaw107 upon fatigue108, the adventure became less joyful. Still Dickon pressed forward upon the freshest hoof-marks, gay of heart. Others, who carried more years and a staler fancy, began to lag. Then an interesting thing happened.
At a word from Morgan, huge Rawly and a dozen others wheeled out from the troop and, halting at the side of the highway in waiting till the footmen had passed, drew close in behind them.
To make the meaning of this more clear, some of these horsemen pleasantly pricked109 their spear-points into the weariest of those walking before them. Thereafter the whole body moved on more swiftly.
None of the peasants knew whither the expedition was proceeding110. For the first few leagues, journeying down the valley of the little stream which rose back of Egswith, they had seen at a distance more than one frowning castle. But they had come near to no human habitation. Then had ensued the arduous111 march across the moor105, with no sign of castle or roof-tree.
But now, some hours after high noon, they were advancing upon a better-ordered country, with smooth roads and farm-lands. The mountains on the right were farther away now, and hung pale blue upon the confines of the gray sky. There were farm-houses in view, and these were of a larger and more prosperous aspect than Dickon had seen before. The husbandmen seemed to have small appetite for fighting, too, for they could be discerned presently fleeing with their women, children, and cattle across their fields to woodland shelter.
The spectacle of people making their escape before his approach was new to Dickon. He swelled112 out his chest to a greater girth because of it, and forgot the heated aching of his feet.
Sir Watty permitted the men to enter and ransack113 one of these farm-places. No living soul was to be discovered, but of food there was plenty. Some of the older and wiser troopers knew where to look for gear of less transient moment. But the spoil was not of importance.
Soon they were all pressing on again, along the highroad traversing this peaceful and fertile plain. By and by an old archer who trudged by Dickon's side halted in surprise, and as he stepped forward again growled out in perplexed114 disquiet:—
"Nay—aught but that, Sir Waddy, aught but that!"
Dickon, looking ahead, noted115 that his lord, after a moment's parley116, had turned his course to the left, and was leading the party into a narrow lane.
Some of the hoblers, mounted on their light nags117, were sent flying off across fields still more to the left, and Morgan came galloping118 back to the rear of the column. When he had muttered some charge to Rawly and then set back again to join his chief, it became known that Rawly with his handful of horse and all the footmen were to continue on the highroad.
The lad would never have thought out what this division of forces signified, but the old archer, little by little, and more to hear his own voice than from kindness to the boy, informed his mind. The company had been split in twain because the quarry119 was near at hand, and must needs be surrounded.
This was good soldiery, but in the present case it would be useless. Sir Watty and every mother's son with him would be slain—the footmen as well as the rest. Of this there could be no tittle of doubt, the archer cheeringly insisted. He was a native of these parts, and knew the evil repute of the stronghold they were about to attack. Not a man-jack of them would ever find himself back upon this blessed highroad again! Of that he made certain.
Dickon listened to these astounding120 tidings without any very near sense of fear. To look Death in the eye seemed not an unnatural121 thing, now that he was a soldier and wore an iron jacket. But his blood chilled within him when he heard the answer to his idle query122.
"Is it bigger then than Egswith?" he had asked.
The gray old archer, stealing an apprehensive123 glance about him, and whispering sidelong, replied:—
"There are no walls—that eye can see. But inside is a sorcerer who fights with magic fires, and can on the instant raise up battlements of poisoned adders124 and scorpions125, and blow upon us with a wind so deadly that at its touch our flesh will melt from our bones. If yon men wist whither Sir Waddy led them, they would fall upon him first and tear him limb from limb."
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1
crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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2
blazoned
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| v.广布( blazon的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布；夸示；装饰 | |
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heralds
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| n.使者( herald的名词复数 )；预报者；预兆；传令官v.预示( herald的第三人称单数 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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7
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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9
thrifty
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| adj.节俭的；兴旺的；健壮的 | |
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10
hinds
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| n.（常指动物腿）后面的( hind的名词复数 )；在后的；（通常与can或could连用）唠叨不停；滔滔不绝 | |
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11
curdle
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| v.使凝结，变稠 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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13
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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kennel
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| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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archer
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| n.射手，弓箭手 | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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21
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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23
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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caped
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| 披斗篷的 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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29
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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32
aspiration
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| n.志向，志趣抱负；渴望；(语)送气音；吸出 | |
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domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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carouse
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| v.狂欢；痛饮；n.狂饮的宴会 | |
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37
itching
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| adj.贪得的，痒的，渴望的v.发痒( itch的现在分词 ) | |
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38
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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39
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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40
brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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42
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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43
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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44
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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45
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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46
yokels
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| n.乡下佬，土包子( yokel的名词复数 ) | |
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47
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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48
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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49
hoods
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| n.兜帽( hood的名词复数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩v.兜帽( hood的第三人称单数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩 | |
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50
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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51
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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52
gashed
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| v.划伤，割破( gash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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54
bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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55
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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56
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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57
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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58
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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59
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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60
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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61
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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62
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
lout
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| n.粗鄙的人；举止粗鲁的人 | |
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64
knavish
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| adj.无赖（似）的，不正的；刁诈 | |
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65
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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66
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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67
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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68
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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69
prancing
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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70
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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71
boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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72
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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73
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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74
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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75
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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76
burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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77
overlapping
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| adj./n.交迭（的） | |
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78
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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79
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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80
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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81
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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82
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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83
talons
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| n.（尤指猛禽的）爪( talon的名词复数 )；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物；锁簧尖状突出部 | |
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84
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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85
imputed
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| v.把（错误等）归咎于( impute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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87
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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88
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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89
monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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90
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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91
generic
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| adj.一般的，普通的，共有的 | |
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92
knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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94
rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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95
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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96
spiked
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| adj.有穗的；成锥形的；有尖顶的 | |
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97
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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98
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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99
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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100
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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101
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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102
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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103
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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104
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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105
moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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106
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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107
gnaw
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| v.不断地啃、咬；使苦恼，折磨 | |
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108
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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109
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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110
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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111
arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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112
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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113
ransack
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| v.彻底搜索，洗劫 | |
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114
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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115
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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116
parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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117
nags
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| n.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的名词复数 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的第三人称单数 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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118
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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119
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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120
astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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121
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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122
query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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123
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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124
adders
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| n.加法器，（欧洲产）蝰蛇（小毒蛇），（北美产无毒的）猪鼻蛇( adder的名词复数 ) | |
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125
scorpions
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| n.蝎子( scorpion的名词复数 ) | |
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