Cedric, the Forester

by Bernard Gay Marshall

“Let us first make this plan succeed,” replied Cedric evenly, though I could see that my words had warmed him to the heart. “Now shall we tell Lord Mountjoy?”

“Aye,” said I, “let us have him from the camp at once. I warrant you he’ll kindle at our news. And he knows which of our swordsmen will carry themselves best in such a venture.”

“And I have twenty men of Carleton here that can be trusted,” put in Geoffrey.

“Right,” said Cedric, “’twill make us amply strong. We must have no blunderers, though, for look you, some of these greenwood men have ears that can hear a twig break at two hundred paces. We must urge Lord Mountjoy to hold all at a safe distance till the signal.”

Two hours after the midnight we set out through the forest for the storming of the robber fastness. Cedric, as pathfinder, was in the lead, followed close by Lord Mountjoy, Sir Geoffrey and me. After us, and treading most cautiously, ’mongst the leaves and brush, came old Marvin, the archer, and thirty chosen swordsmen of Mountjoy with a score or more of Geoffrey’s men.

There was no moon; and the faint stars gave but little light in the forest deeps. Our way lay, as often as not, over steep and rocky slopes where our faces were torn with thorns and our legs bruised against the unseen rocks.

We had made little more than half of our way to the outlaw stronghold when Lord Mountjoy, in coming down a streamlet bank in the darkness, stepped heavily on a stone that rolled beneath his weight, and went to the ground with his right foot twisted under him. He gave a groan of pain, yet in an instant was up again to resume his march. But then ’twas found this could not be. His ankle had been most sorely wrenched, and would not at all endure his weight. He sank down again on a leafy bank, and called us to him. Amidst half stifled groans and grumblings at his ill fortune he declared he could not move from thence without assistance. There was no help for it; he must await our return. Therefore he gave o’er to me the leadership of the venture. We left with him two stout men-at-arms, and went quickly on, for now it seemed the sunrise could not be long in coming.

At the fourth hour of the morning we lay by the streamlet bed, two hundred paces from the robbers’ sentry post in the rocky passage. Cedric and old Marvin had left us to climb the hillside by another route and gain the branches of the great oak tree. Already there was a grayness in the dark that told of the coming dawn. Half an hour passed, and by little and little the trunks of the trees grew more clearly to be seen and we could well make out each other’s faces. Roosting wild fowl roused themselves, and flew away with a clatter of wings. We knew that Cedric and Marvin awaited the daylight to make sure their aim. At last, on the top of a tall tree above me, I spied a beam of sunlight.

Immediately, as it seemed, there came from the oak tree the call of an owl, twice repeated. This was the signal for which we waited; and we sprang up together and ran, as silently as might be, toward the pathway entrance. We gained it unmolested, and with Geoffrey and me in the lead, quickly came upon the bodies of the sentries. Cedric and Marvin, from their post in the tree, had well done their work. The sentinels had perished silently, each with a bolt through his skull.

We rushed forward; and now some of our arms rang against the stones; and there was a cry from above us. This was no time for stealth and creeping. On we went with a rush and with a clatter of heels on the rocks of the path and of steel against steel as we jostled one another in the race.