Fair Blows the Wind (1978) (11 page)

There was no time to think, no time to plan; distance was what I needed. I guessed that my mounted friends would head south and try to lose themselves among the lanes. They would scatter out, too, taking their loss as they would, or sending gypsy friends back for their hidden carts.

I ran down the slope to a stream, then along it under the trees to a lane. I knew not how much estate was claimed by the father of the large young man, nor which direction would find me safest, but I fled.

My condition was good. Well over a year of traveling along the lanes and byroads, walking much of the time, always active, fencing, boxing, wrestling, had left me in fine shape.

It angered me to be treated so shamefully by the leader of those rascals. There were many of their kind about, young ruffians albeit of good family, taking advantage of their position to raid and bully and steal. No man was safe from them, and no girl, either. They were thoroughly vicious.

We had lately crossed a wild and broken moor not too far from the sea. It was there that I directed my steps. Once, when I had begun to climb, I looked back.

Parties of riders could be seen sweeping along the lanes. I kept from sight and plodded on. Soon they would come this way, and I must find a place to hide. Wandering the lanes as we did, we usually paid small mind to where we were, and I only knew that somewhere off to the west lay the sea. We were in the Lake Country or near it, and as once I had fled to the sea and escaped, it was in my mind to do so again. Soon I reached the cover of an oak wood and then a deep ravine where I climbed carefully over some mossy rocks, using my cane to good effect. Clambering out of the ravine, I crossed over a grassy place and entered a clump of yew that covered a knoll. There, under shelter of the woods, I paused to consider my course.

Undoubtedly when the lads who attacked us had set the countryside upon us, they had told some tale of violence or theft. Many parties of horsemen and others would be scouring the country in search of us, and were we found it would go hard. For no explanation would suffice against the accusation of one of their own.

The place I had now reached was on a steep mountainside and the yew was thick. No horseman would ride down this slope, and I doubted that any of the ruffians who attacked us would. Such folk were not apt to go where the traveling was hard. So it might be best to remain where I was for the time and not chance the moors or grassland above until darkness fell. What I feared most was dogs. If they brought dogs to search for us, we would be found. At least, I would be.

It was late afternoon and if the next hour or two were passed in safety, I might yet go free.

Below me the land lay wide under the mouth of the ravine. Here and there were clumps of yew, then patches of oak, and below a checkerboard of fields and pastures. A lovely, peaceful land, but not for me. I was again in flight ... Would there never be a place to rest? Never a place where I could stop and serve? Where I could do something of worth without forever living in fear?

It came to me then that I must be away from England if I wished to be free. And yet I had grown to love this land and many of its people.

Why must London forever hold out a beckoning finger? What awaited me there, if anything? Had not many warned me against the hazards of that city?

Slowly the shadows gathered behind me while the valley below still lay bathed in sunlight. Here and there I could see distant troops of horsemen wending their homeward way. Had they found my friends?

The haycocks now ... how had Kory known of them? Were there many such, scattered about in unused fields or ancient pastures, places of which the gypsies knew, and to which they could resort in time of need? No doubt, I decided, there were.

At last I arose. If I were to choose my way, I must be going now, before all was darkness. Slowly, I walked through the yew and emerged upon the hillside. My muscles were stiff from sitting on the damp earth and I was tired from the running and climbing, but I knew I must get on.

Over the rim of the. hill I mounted, and out into the angry red of a vanished sun. Streaks of scarlet and gold-laced clouds lay in the west and the heather moor lay about me. I stood alone upon it as if in a world newly born from the primeval darkness, or sinking again into that from which it came. And then they were coming at me. There were four of them, walking their horses toward me, led by the same big young man who had led them below. "See?" he was saying. "Did I not know where to come? Did I not tell you?"

The others divided, and slowly they surrounded me. My sword-cane was in my hand. They knew it only as a stick, so let them learn if they would. At least one of them would die before I was killed.

No use for me to run. On their fleet horses, on this almost level mountain top, I would be an easy prey. Could I kill all four?

"We have him now, and we shall have some sport of him."

"Why not take him below?" one asked, "and let the law have him."

"Don't be a child!" the big one scoffed. "We will have him. The law can have what we leave of him."

The youngest might have been no older than my fourteen years, but the others were two to four years older. At least two of them were larger than I, and at least one was stronger. All were armed with sticks, at least two had daggers, and the large one a sword. If I escaped the circle and ducked back over the edge where they were not likely to try and bring the horses, I might evade them for a time or until those came who would take me to prison. For vagabonds had no rights that anyone recognized.

To allow them to have their way and torture me was unthinkable, and during the more than two years I had been dodging, evading, and hiding from the law, my mind had grown quick with stratagems.

Their method was obvious. They would move in upon me, ringing me with their horses and themselves, and at any move I should make to escape, a horse would be put before me. I was trapped, and they knew it. Deliberately, I put my sword-cane in my belt and spread my arms as if surrendering.

The big one laughed. "See? He is a coward as well! He will not fight! Well, we will see."

He thrust at me with his stick and I dodged. He . was too strong, much too strong. The others began to do likewise, and there was one who was astride a splendid sorrel gelding, a handsome horse, long-bodied and long-legged.

He thrust at me, almost got me, then thrust again. A stick caught my ribs and ripped my shirt, tearing a thin scratch along my ribs. I felt the sting of it, but dodged again, caught a short but ringing blow on my skull, and then the lad on the sorrel leaned far forward, thrusting at me.

It was the moment for which I had waited. Instantly, I grasped the stick and jerked ... hard.

He was too far forward and off balance, and my jerk took him from the saddle. He fell, crying out, and as he hit the earth I ducked under a blow, grasped the pommel, and swung myself to the empty saddle.

Once again my horsemanship stood me in good stead, and the horse beneath me was quite the best of the lot. The big lad rode as good a horse, perhaps, but outweighed me by fifty or sixty pounds. I hit the saddle, clapped my heels to the horse's ribs, and took the sorrel away on a dead run.

I had the start of them. Knowing what I planned to do gave me that start and my mount had three good jumps before they realized, and another before they straightened out to run. And I fled into the open land beyond, toward the still-distant sea.

They came after me. Their angry shouts rang in my ears and I heard the pound of hooves behind me, but the sorrel was a fine horse and it loved to run. A glance back showed me I now led them by at least five lengths and was gaining. They rode wildly, heedlessly, thoughtless of their mounts. I eased my speed a little for I knew not how far I must go and I chose the better ground. Hence despite easing the speed I held my lead, and darkness was close upon us. Once the dark came, I should have a chance.

Glancing back again, I saw that one of them had fallen out of the race, for what reason I knew not. Lack of will, perhaps, for it had been easily seen that he who led them drove them as well. Two only pursued me now, and one of those was falling back.

On into the gathering dark I raced, straight toward the place where the sun had set, and now only one horse was pursuing. Suddenly, I know not what devil possessed me, I slowed my pace and swung my horse around to face him. He came thundering on, realizing too late that I had stopped, and as he pulled up hastily, I slapped heels to my sorrel and charged him. My mount hit his at the shoulder as he was reining in and his horse staggered and went down.

He was quick, oh, so very quick! He leaped from the saddle as his horse fell, and sprang at me. I reined my horse away and thrust at him with the sword-cane, the blade still sheathed. It grazed the side of his head and staggered him and I pivoted the horse and came at him again. He lunged at me but I swung the horse away and drove my heel into the big lad's shoulder.

It was a wrong move, for his hand grasped my leg and the next I knew I was sprawling on the earth and he was standing over me.