The Hollow Land | Page 7

church was full of our people, who for the press had not been able to enter, and were standing there in no small dread of what might come to pass.
Then the abbot turned round from the altar, and began to fidget with the fastenings of his rich robes. And they made a lane for us up to the west door; then I put on my helm and we began to go up the nave, then suddenly the singing of the monks and all stopped. I heard a clinking and a buzz of voices in the choir. I turned, and saw that the bright noon sun was shining on the gold of the priest's vestments, as they lay on the floor, and on the mail that the priests carried.
So we stopped, the choir gates swung open, and the abbot marched out at the head of his men, all fully armed, and began to strike up the psalm "Exsurgat Deus."
When we got to the west door, there was indeed a tumult, but as yet no slaying; the square was all a-flicker with steel, and we beheld a great body of knights, at the head of them Red Harald and the king, standing over against us; but our people, pressed against the houses, and into the comers of the square, were, some striving to enter the doors, some beside themselves with rage, shouting out to the others to charge; withal, some were pale and some were red with the blood that had gathered to the wrathful faces of them.
Then said Arnald to those about him, "Lift me up." So they laid a great shield on two lances, and these four men carried, and thereon stood Arnald, and gazed about him.
Now the king was unhelmed, and his white hair (for he was an old man) flowed down behind him on to his saddle; but Amaid's hair was cut short, and was red.
And all the bells rang.
Then the king said, "0 Arnald of the Lilies, will you settle this quarrel by the judgment of God?" And Amaid thrust up his chin, and said, "Yea." "How then," said the king, "and where?" "Will it please you try now?" said Arnald.
Then the king understood what he meant, and took in his hand from behind tresses of his long white hair, twisting them round his hand in his wrath, but yet said no word, till I suppose his hair put him in mind of something, and he raised it in both his hands above his head, and shouted out aloud, "0 knights, hearken to this traitor." Whereat, indeed, the lances began to move ominously. But Arnald spoke.
"0 you king and lords, what have we to do with you? Were we not free in the old time, up among the hills there? Wherefore give way, and we will go to the hills again; and if any man try to stop us, his blood be on his own head; wherefore now," (and he turned) "all you House of the Lily, both soldiers and monks, let us go forth together fearing nothing, for I think there is not bone enough or muscle enough in these fellows here that have a king that they should stop us withal, but only skin and fat."
And truly, no man dared to stop us, and we went.
FAILING IN THE WORLD
Now at that time we drove cattle in Red Harald's land. And we took no hoof but from the Lords and rich men, but of these we had a mighty drove, both oxen and sheep, and horses, and besides, even hawks and hounds, and huntsman or two to take care of them.
And, about noon, we drew away from the cornlands that lay beyond the pastures, and mingled with them, and reached a wide moor, which was called "Goliath's Land." I scarce know why, except that it belonged neither to Red Harald or us, but was debatable.
And the cattle began to go slowly, and our horses were tired, and the sun struck down very hot upon us, for there was no shadow, and the day was cloudless.
All about the edge of the moor, except on the sidefrom which we had come was a rim of hills, not very high, but very rocky and steep, otherwise the moor itself was flat; and through these hills was one pass, guarded by our men, which pass led to the Hill castle of the Lilies.
It was not wonderful, that of this moor many wild stories were told, being such a strange lonely place, some of them one knew, alas to be over true. In the old time, before we went to the good town, this moor had been the mustering place of our people, and our house had done deeds enough of blood and horror to turn our white lilies red, and