The newcomer did not see, but the eyes of the wounded man seemed to have been cleared by the scuffle.He was now free, and from the floor he snatched the round shield which the ex-priest had carried, and hurled it straight at the creeping miscreant.It was a heavy oaken thing with rim and boss of iron, and it caught him fairly above the ear, so that he dropped like a poled ox.The stranger turned his head to see what was happening."Alucky shot, friend," he cried."I thank you." And he addressed himself to the two pitiful bandits who remained.
But their eyes were looking beyond him to the door, and their jaws had dropped in terror.For from outside came the sound of horses' hooves and bridles, and two riders had dismounted and were peering into the hut.The first was a very mountain of a man, whose conical helmet surmounted a vast pale face, on which blond moustaches hung like the teeth of a walrus.The said helmet was grievously battered, and the nose-piece was awry as if from some fierce blow, but there was no scar on the skin.His long hauberk was wrought in scales of steel and silver, and the fillets which bound his great legs were of fine red leather.Behind him came a grizzled squire, bearing a kite-shaped shield painted with the cognisance of a dove.
"What have we here?" said the knight in a reedy voice like a boy's.His pale eyes contemplated the figures--the wounded man, now faint again with pain and half-fallen on the litter of branches; his deliverer, tall and grim, but with laughing face; the two murderers cringing in their fear; in a corner the huddled body of the man from the south half hidden by the shield."Speak, fellow," and he addressed the soldier."What work has been toward? Have you not had your bellyfull of battles that you must scrabble like rats in this hovel? What are you called, and whence come you?"The soldier lifted his brow, looked his questioner full in the face, and, as if liking what he found there, bowed his head in respect.The huge man had the air of one to be obeyed.
"I am of the Duke's army," he said, "and was sent on to reconnoitre the forest roads I stumbled on this hut and found four men about to slay a wounded English.One lies outside where I flung him, another is there with a cracked skull, and you have before you the remnant."The knight seemed to consider."And why should a soldier of the Duke's be so careful of English lives?" he asked.
"I would help my lord Duke to conquer this land," was the answer."We have broken their army and the way is straight before us.We shall have to fight other armies, but we cannot be fighting all our days, and we do not conquer England till England accepts us.I have heard enough of that stubborn people to know that the way to win them is not by murder.At fair fight, and then honest dealing and mercy, say I."The knight laughed."A Solomon in judgment," he cried."But who are you that bear a sword and wear gold on your finger?"The old squire broke in."My lord Count, I know the man.He is a hunter of the Lord Odo's, and has a name for valour.He wrought mightily this morning on the hill.They call him Jehan the Hunter, and sometimes Jehan the Outborn, for no man knows his comings.There is a rumour that he is of high blood, and truly in battle he bears himself like a prince.The monks loved him not, but the Lord Odo favoured him."The knight looked steadily for the space of a moment at the tall soldier, and his light eyes seemed to read deep."Are you that man," he asked at last, and got the reply: "I am Jehan the Hunter.""Bid my fellows attend to yon scum," he told his squire."The camp marshal will have fruit for his gallows.The sweepings of all Europe have drifted with us to England, and it is our business to make bonfire of them before they breed a plague....See to the wounded man, likewise.He may be one of the stout house-carles who fought with Harold at Stamford, and to meet us raced like a gale through the length of England.By the Mount of the Archangel, I would fain win such mettle to our cause."Presently the hut was empty save for the two soldiers, who faced each other while the lantern flickered to its end on the rafters.
"The good Odo is dead," said the knight."An arrow in the left eye has bereft our Duke of a noble ally and increased the blessedness of the City of Paradise.You are masterless now.Will you ride with me on my service, you Jehan the Hunter? It would appear that we are alike in our ways of thinking.They call me the Dove from the shield I bear, and a dove I seek to be in the winning of England.The hawk's task is over when the battle is won, and he who has but the sword for weapon is no hawk, but carrion-crow.
We have to set our Duke on the throne, but that is but the first step.
There are more battles before us, and when they are ended begins the slow task of the conquest of English hearts.How say you, Jehan? Will you ride north with me on this errand, and out of the lands which are granted me to govern have a corner on which to practise your creed?"So it befell that Jehan the Hunter, sometimes called Jehan the Outborn, joined the company of Ivo of Dives, and followed him when Duke William swept northward laughing his gross jolly laughter and swearing terribly by the splendour of God.
Part 2
