‘Only if he walks, Your Majesty.’
‘Well, never mind. For the present you can ride with Count Godfrey. Get your arms tight around his waist and you won’t fall off. He’s a light weight himself and his horse is stout. Later perhaps you can ride Midnight, my own black mare. You’ll like her. She’s very gentle. Not as fast as my Africa here. But fast enough, clever and sure-footed.—Ah, here comes Count Godfrey back. Now we can start.’
16 Midnight, the black mare
In spite of the calmness shown by the King, Giles was sharp enough to guess that he was partly acting. He felt sure that big doings were afoot and that His Majesty did not want anyone, for the present, to know what they were.
The party got moving at once and it was barely clear of the narrow streets of the town before the pace changed to a trot, and then to a smart canter. Giles, with his arms around Godfrey’s waist, was none too comfortable, but he felt quite safe. The Count was mindful of the King’s request and kept his horse neck and neck with Africa the swift.
The straggling houses that lay outside the town began to disappear, and soon even the lonely farm cottages could be seen no more. The landscape became, for the most part, rolling heath and moorland, with copses of trees here and there. After some miles the King left the roadway and led the party off across country. He seemed to be making for a large wood that lay along a high ridge. This, Giles thought, seemed like the beginning of a range of hills, for the ground kept rising up and up. He had never been so far outside the town before and he was beginning to look about him with the adventurous feeling of an explorer—in spite of the bumping and jogging of the horse.
Presently they reached the wood. They followed along the edge of it a little way and went in by a winding road which led, still upwards, through thick-trunked beech trees and tall firs. Later, they left even this woodland trail and, bringing their horses to a walk, struck right into the heart of the forest. Over furze and mountain brooks the way now had to be picked, with nothing for guide but the sun and the slope of the land. The King did not give the order to halt until they had travelled in this fashion many miles. At last, suddenly, they came out into a small open glade.
It was a lovely spot: a circle of mossy turf surrounded by thickets of brambles and blackberries, with oak trees standing farther back—the sort of place that children would pick out for a secret playground. For while wonderful views of the country down below could be seen in many directions, the glade itself was well screened and almost impossible to see from the flat land farther down. Indeed, it would have been hard enough to find even if a man set out to hunt for it, unless he stumbled on it by luck.
By this time everybody was glad of a chance to rest. But all waited for the King to dismount before getting down from their saddles. Giles felt pretty sore in several spots, but he was too excited over the great happenings he was taking part in to bother about a little thing like that. However, he had not guessed how big a part he had been playing; and more surprises were in store for him.
The King’s manner appeared quite changed when at last he stood upon the ground and let the panting Africa wander free about the turf. He seemed suddenly to have become businesslike, and was in no mood to waste time. He at once ordered the chief huntsman to take his men and dogs and go in search of game. As soon as they were out of sight he called to the remainder of the party (which was now made up of none but his own friends and retainers) and bade them gather about him in a close ring. And when he spoke it was in a grave low voice that seemed to be trying to keep back anger, indignation, and maybe even tears.