A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War

by Evelyn Everett-Green

CHAPTER XXIX.

LEOFRIC'S REWARD.

Strange as it may appear, it was with tears in his eyes that Edward, the victorious Prince, attended the obsequies of his two cousins, Henry and Amalric de Montfort, after the fatal fight of Evesham. He and Henry had been playfellows in childhood and comrades in youth. The tie between them had not been broken even when one was a captive and the other his jailer. Warmly as he had espoused his father's cause when it came to a question of arms, Edward had always felt a deep respect for the policy of his uncle, and would have kept the peace between the rival factions had he had power to do so. It was with sorrow of heart that he looked on whilst the grave closed over two such brave young warriors. He had already given orders that every attention should be bestowed upon the wounded Guy, and had even expressed a hope that he might be permitted to join his mother as soon as his wounds were sufficiently healed for it to be safe for him to travel.

Although elated by his victory, and the object of an immense amount of praise and laudation, Edward was not puffed up by his success, and strove to influence his father to act with moderation and liberal-mindedness. He had not been able to save the corpse of the Earl from dishonour and despite; but he was resolved to let all the world know that he was not ashamed to show affection and respect for the sons of the great noble, or disposed to put on one side his own near relationship to them.

He would not be dissuaded from attending in person the obsequies of his cousins, and it was when standing at their grave that his glance suddenly rested upon the bowed head and pale face of Leofric.

"I would speak with that youth," said he to Hugh, who chanced to be near at hand; "bid him come presently to my tent."

So later in the day Leofric once more stood face to face with the King's son.

Leofric had never attempted to fly from the scene of the battle. He scarce knew whether he was ranked as a prisoner or not. No one had spoken to him or molested him. It seemed as though the common bond of brotherhood had now asserted itself amidst the ranks of the rival hosts. The leaders of the rebellion (as it would soon be termed) would doubtless receive punishment in the form of fines and confiscations when there was time to consider their cases; but the Prince was in favour of a general amnesty to rank and file; and though the adherents of the Barons were melting away like snow in a thaw, no attempt was made to keep them. They were, for the most part, suffered to depart to their own homes. Numbers had laid down their lives in the slaughter of the battle day; the rest were free to return whence they had come. Leofric was meditating a journey to Oxford as soon as he should be fit for the long ride; but both he and Jack had had little heart to think of their own affairs, their distress at the loss of the cause and of so many true friends and comrades having for the time being driven all else from their minds. They had, however, the previous evening decided that there was nothing left for them to do here after the morrow, and had settled that upon the following day they would set forth for Oxford, taking with them a few mementos of their fallen hero, and carrying to Mistress Alys the last message and token of her whilom lover Amalric de Montfort.

This summons from the Prince, however, might possibly cause a change in their plan. Jack looked a little apprehensive as he heard it; but Leofric had no fear. He had faith in the good-will of Edward.

"Thou canst come too, good Jack," said Hugh, who had brought the message from the King's son. "He has some words to speak to many of those who have served under the De Montfort banner. Be in nowise afraid. He is a right noble Prince, and meaneth well to all."