The Boy Knight | Page 7

for
Cuthbert's use.
It was late in the afternoon before they came in sight of Evesham Castle.
From the distance could be seen bodies of armed men galloping toward
it, and it was clear that only now the party were returning from the
wood, and had learned the news of the disappearance of the earl's
daughter, and of the finding of the bodies of her attendants.
Presently they met one of the mounted retainers riding at headlong
speed.
"Have you heard or seen anything," he shouted, as he approached, "of
the Lady Margaret? She is missing, and foul play has taken place."
"Here I am, Rudolph," cried the child, sitting up on the rude litter.
The horseman gave a cry of astonishment and pleasure, and without a
word wheeled his horse and galloped past back at headlong speed
toward the castle.
As Cuthbert and the party approached the gate the earl himself,
surrounded by his knights and followers, rode out hastily from the gate

and halted in front of the little party. The litter was lowered, and as he
dismounted from his horse his daughter sprang out and leaped into his
arms.
For a few minutes the confusion and babble of tongues were too great
for anything to be heard, but Cuthbert, as soon as order was somewhat
restored, stated what had happened, and the earl was moved to fury at
the news of the outrage which had been perpetrated by the Baron of
Wortham upon his daughter and at the very gates of his castle, and also
at the thought that she should have been saved by the bravery and
devotion of the very men against whom he had so lately been vowing
vengeance in the depths of the forest.
"This is not a time," he said to Cnut, "for talk or making promises, but
be assured that henceforth the deer of Evesham Chase are as free to you
and your men as to me. Forest laws or no forest laws, I will no more lift
a hand against men to whom I owe so much. Come when you will to
the castle, my friends, and let us talk over what can be done to raise
your outlawry and restore you to an honest career again."
Cuthbert returned home tired, but delighted with his day's work, and
Dame Editha was surprised indeed with the tale of adventure he had to
tell. The next morning he went over to the castle, and heard that a grand
council had been held the evening before, and that it had been
determined to attack Wortham Castle and to raze it to the ground.
Immediately on hearing of his arrival, the earl, after again expressing
his gratitude for the rescue of his daughter, asked him if he would go
into the forest and invite the outlaws to join their forces with those of
the castle to attack the baron.
Cuthbert willingly undertook the mission, as he felt that this alliance
would further strengthen the position of the forest men.
When he arrived there was some considerable consultation and
discussion between the outlaws as to the expediency of mixing
themselves in the quarrels between the Norman barons. However, Cnut
persuaded them that as the Baron of Wortham was an enemy and

oppressor of all Saxons, it was in fact their own quarrel that they were
fighting rather than that of the earl, and they therefore agreed to give
their aid, and promised to be at the rendezvous outside the castle to be
attacked soon after dawn next morning. Cuthbert returned with the
news which gave great satisfaction to the earl.
The castle was now a scene of bustle and business; armorers were at
work repairing headpieces and breastplates, sharpening swords and
battle-axes, while the fletchers prepared sheaves of arrows. In the
courtyard a number of men were engaged oiling the catapults, ballistas,
and other machines for hurling stones. All were discussing the chances
of the assault, for it was no easy matter which they had set themselves
to do. Wortham Hold was an extremely strong one, and it needed all
and more than all the machines at their disposal to undertake so
formidable an operation as a siege.
The garrison, too, were strong and desperate; and the baron, knowing
what must follow his outrage of the day before, would have been sure
to send off messengers round the country begging his friends to come
to his assistance. Cuthbert had begged permission of his mother to ask
the earl to allow him to join as a volunteer, but she would not hear of it.
Neither would she suffer him to mingle with the foresters. The utmost
that he could obtain was that he might go as a spectator, with strict
injunctions to keep himself out of the fray,