Though he had never formally espoused the cause of the barons, it now seemed a matter of little doubt but that, in any crisis, his grisly banner would be found on their side.
The long winter evenings within the castle of Torn were often spent in rough, wild carousals in the great hall where a thousand men might sit at table singing, fighting and drinking until the gray dawn stole in through the east windows, or Peter the Hermit, the fierce majordomo, tired of the din and racket, came stalking into the chamber with drawn sword and laid upon the revellers with the flat of it to enforce the authority of his commands to disperse.
Norman of Torn and the old man seldom joined in these wild orgies, but when minstrel, or troubadour, or storyteller wandered to his grim lair, the Outlaw of Torn would sit enjoying the break in the winter's dull monotony to as late an hour as another; nor could any man of his great fierce horde outdrink their chief when he cared to indulge in the pleasures of the wine cup.The only effect that liquor seemed to have upon him was to increase his desire to fight, so that he was wont to pick needless quarrels and to resort to his sword for the slightest, or for no provocation at all.So, for this reason, he drank but seldom since he always regretted the things he did under the promptings of that other self which only could assert its ego when reason was threatened with submersion.
Often on these evenings, the company was entertained by stories from the wild, roving lives of its own members.Tales of adventure, love, war and death in every known corner of the world; and the ten captains told, each, his story of how he came to be of Torn; and thus, with fighting enough by day to keep them good humored, the winter passed, and spring came with the ever wondrous miracle of awakening life, with soft zephyrs, warm rain, and sunny skies.
Through all the winter, Father Claude had been expecting to hear from Simon de Montfort, but not until now did he receive a message which told the good priest that his letter had missed the great baron and had followed him around until he had but just received it.The message closed with these words:
"Any clew, however vague, which might lead nearer to a true knowledge of the fate of Prince Richard, we shall most gladly receive and give our best attention.Therefore, if thou wilst find it convenient, we shall visit thee, good father, on the fifth day from today."Spizo, the Spaniard, had seen De Montfort's man leave the note with Father Claude and he had seen the priest hide it under a great bowl on his table, so that when the good father left his cottage, it was the matter of but a moment's work for Spizo to transfer the message from its hiding place to the breast of his tunic.The fellow could not read, but he to whom he took the missive could, laboriously, decipher the Latin in which it was penned.
The old man of Torn fairly trembled with suppressed rage as the full purport of this letter flashed upon him.It had been years since he had heard aught of the search for the little lost prince of England, and now that the period of his silence was drawing to a close, now that more and more often opportunities were opening up to him to wreak the last shred of his terrible vengeance, the very thought of being thwarted at the final moment staggered his comprehension.
"On the fifth day," he repeated."That is the day on which we were to ride south again.Well, we shall ride, and Simon de Montfort shall not talk with thee, thou fool priest."That same spring evening in the year 1264, a messenger drew rein before the walls of Torn and, to the challenge of the watch, cried:
"A royal messenger from His Illustrious Majesty, Henry, by the grace of God, King of England, Lord of Ireland, Duke of Aquitaine, to Norman of Torn, Open, in the name of the King !"Norman of Torn directed that the King's messenger be admitted, and the knight was quickly ushered into the great hall of the castle.
The outlaw presently entered in full armor, with visor lowered.
The bearing of the King's officer was haughty and arrogant, as became a man of birth when dealing with a low born knave.
"His Majesty has deigned to address you, sirrah," he said, withdrawing a parchment from his breast."And, as you doubtless cannot read, I will read the King's commands to you.""I can read," replied Norman of Torn, "whatever the King can write.Unless it be," he added, "that the King writes no better than he rules."The messenger scowled angrily, crying:
"It ill becomes such a low fellow to speak thus disrespectfully of our gracious King.If he were less generous, he would have sent you a halter rather than this message which I bear.""A bridle for thy tongue, my friend," replied Norman of Torn, "were in better taste than a halter for my neck.But come, let us see what the King writes to his friend, the Outlaw of Torn."Taking the parchment from the messenger, Norman of Torn read:
Henry, by Grace of God, King of England, Lord of Ireland, Duke of Aquitaine; to Norman of Torn:
Since it has been called to our notice that you be harassing and plundering the persons and property of our faithful lieges ---We therefore, by virtue of the authority vested in us by Almighty God, do command that you cease these nefarious practices ---And further, through the gracious intercession of Her Majesty, Queen Eleanor, we do offer you full pardon for all your past crimes ---Provided, you repair at once to the town of Lewes, with all the fighting men, your followers, prepared to protect the security of our person, and wage war upon those enemies of England, Simon de Montfort, Gilbert de Clare and their accomplices, who even now are collected to threaten and menace our person and kingdom ---Or, otherwise, shall you suffer death, by hanging, for your long unpunished crimes.Witnessed myself, at Lewes, on May the third, in the forty-eighth year of our reign.
HENRY, REX.
