Cedric, the Forester

by Bernard Gay Marshall

Lord Mountjoy was mightily proud of Cedric, as I well knew, and had stinted not to boast of him on occasion as a Mountjoy lad with a head as well as hands. And, however he might wish to check o’er-weening youth and confidence, my father might not gainsay that he, that had long been famous for his swordplay through all our countryside, had much ado to hold his own with foil or quarter-staff against me, now that my strength and reach did equal his, or that Cedric of the broad back and oaken thighs could lift breast-high a weight that neither of us could stir.

Now Sir Cedric De La Roche and I adventured through the Grimsby woods, afoot, clad as huntsmen and carrying only our cross-bows and poniards. For the most part, those that hunt in greenwood choose the long-bow with its cloth-yard shafts; but from a child Cedric had displayed a wondrous skill with the other weapon; it was ever his favorite; and I followed his humor. Already he had struck a fine moorfowl that ran amongst the gorse and I a hare that sat upright beneath a leafy beech, thinking himself well hidden. We talked full loud and gayly as we made our way through bush and brake or along the woodland paths, for truly it was the sunlight and the comradeship and the smell of the fallen leaves that had brought us to the forest rather than any wish for heavy game sacks. Already we had meat enough for the roasting at our noon-tide campfire; and we little cared for more.

To fare abroad on such a morn, among the gray tree trunks and by the brown woodland streams, was enough for our content. As we walked on, Cedric told tale after tale that he had from old books of ballads and chronicles wherein brave knights rode gayly through just such a land as this and had full many gallant adventures and sweet passages at arms. Almost could I see the fays and elves that he declared were dancing on the forest floor and the old, black-robed magician that held them at his thralls.

Suddenly we heard sound of hoofs, and saw approaching us along a bridle path two armed and mounted horsemen. ’Twas Lord Gilroy, who held the great domain of that name two leagues and more away, and his nephew, a hulking youth of two and twenty or thereabouts, by name Sir Philip Carrington. Both were red of face with hurry, and their horses were well lathered and breathing hard. At first sight of us Lord Gilroy called out loudly:

“Ah, good morrow, gentlemen! Well met, Mountjoy and Grimsby both. Grimsby, we have to crave thy leave to ride through thy lands in search of a murdering villain that hath escaped us at Gilroy.”

“A murderer, sayst thou?” answered Cedric, “whom hath he slain?”

BOTH WERE RED OF FACE WITH HURRY, AND THEIR HORSES WERE WELL LATHERED AND BREATHING HARD

“’Tis Simon, my dogmaster. He lies at the point of death, or is dead for aught I know by this time, his skull near crushed with a cudgel. ’Twas my thrall, Egbert, a surly fellow well deserving of the hangman’s noose, that thus assaulted him. It seems the dogmaster had found him sore abusing one o’ the best of our hounds, and had rated him soundly, threatening a report to me of his actions. I saw but the end of the matter and that from a distance, and with Philip here have ridden hard after him. The varlet made at once for the woods and has thus far escaped us; but we will run him to earth, if it take the whole of Gilroy.

“A surly fellow indeed!” exclaimed Sir Cedric. “’Tis well that he be apprehended quickly, else he’ll join some outlaw band, and bid us all defiance. Thou may’st ride through my lands at will for his capture—or we may chance upon him in the wood. How may we know him?”