Wager of Battle: A Tale of Saxon Slavery in Sherwood Forest

by Henry William Herbert

And now they had ridden forth on this bright and fair autumnal morning, partly to fly their hawks at the herons, for which the grassy meads in the vale of Kentmere were famous, partly to visit the new home of Guendolen's favorite Edith, and more, in truth, than all, to enjoy the pleasure of a loving tête-à-tête; for the girl who followed her lady kept discreetly out of ear-shot, and amused herself flirting with the single page who accompanied them; and the rest of the train, consisting of grooms, falconers, and varlets, bearing the hawks and leading the sumpter-mules, lagged considerably in the rear.

There was not, however, very much of gayety in the manner of either of the young people; the fair face of Guendolen was something paler than its use, and her glad eyes had a beseeching look, even while she smiled, and while her voice was playful; and there was a sorrowful shadow on the brow of Aradas, and he spoke in a grave, low tone, though it was full of gentleness and trust.

In truth, like Jacob of old, when he served for the daughters of Laban, the young esquire was waxing weary of the long servitude and the hope deferred. The temporary lull of war, which at that time prevailed over both England and the French provinces belonging to the crown, gave him no hope of speedily winning the desired spurs; and the bloody wars, which were in progress on the shores of the sister island, though fierce and sanguinary enough to satisfy the most eager for the perils and honors of the battle-field, were not so evidently favored by the monarch, or so clear from the taint of piracy, as to justify a cavalier, of untainted character and unbroken fortunes, in joining the invaders. But in this very year had the eyes of all the Christian world been strongly turned toward Palestine, where Baldwin IV., a minor, and a leper, and no match for the talents and power of the victorious Saladin, sat feebly on the throne of the strong crusading Kings of Jerusalem, which was now tottering to its fall, under the fierce assaults of the Mussulman.

Henry II. and Louis of France had sworn to maintain between them the peace of God, and to join in a third Crusade for the defense of the Tomb of Christ and the Holy City. In this war, Aradas saw the certainty of winning knighthood; but Guendolen, who would have armed her champion joyously, and buckled on his sword with her own hand, for any European conflict, shuddered at the tales of the poisoned sarbacanes and arrows with which report armed the gigantic Saracens—shuddered at the knives of the assassins of the mountains—at the pestilences which were known to brood over those arid shores; and yet more, at the strange monsters, dragons, and winged-serpents—nay, fiends and incarnate demons—with which superstitious horror peopled the solitudes which had witnessed the awful scenes of the Temptation, the Passion, and the Death, of the Son of God.

In short, she interposed her absolute nay, with the quiet but positive determination of a woman, and clinched it with a woman's argument.

"You do not love me, Aradas," she said; "I know you do not love me, or you would never think of speaking of that fearful country, or of taking the Cross—that country, from which no one ever returns alive—or, if he do return, returns so bent and bowed with plague and fever, or so hacked and mangled by the poisoned weapons of the savages, that he is an old man ere his prime, and dead before—— No, no! I will not hear of it! No, I will not! I will not love you, if you so much as breathe it to me again, Aradas!"

"That were a penalty," said the young man, half-sadly smiling; "but, can you help it, Guendolen?"

"Don't trust in that, sir," she said. "One can do any thing—every thing—by trying."

"Can one, pardie! I would you would show me, then, how to win these spurs of gold, by trying."

"I can. Be firm, be faithful, and, above all, be patient. Remember, without hope, without patience, there is no evidence of faith; without faith, there is, there can be, neither true chivalry nor true love. Besides, we are very young, we are very happy as we are; occasion will come up, perhaps is at hand even now; and—and—well, if I am worth having, I am worth waiting for, Beausire Aradas; and if you don't think so, by'r lady, you'd better bestow yourself where——"