Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- 13th century -- Juvenile fiction; Knights and knighthood -- Juvenile fiction
The rest of us gazed at one another in silence. This was a new thought,
it seemed, to our whole assembly; and none could deny the seriousness of
the question. At last De Longville spoke again:
“And hast thou, Grimsby, given thought to this so that thou canst now
produce a remedy?”
“Not on the instant, my lord; but in the main my thought is this: In
this instrument itself must be provision for its enforcement. The King
must agree that a body of ten or a score or more of us shall be named by
ourselves; and that these shall be responsible to see that the charter
be not impaired or overridden. In another night I can form the language
to carry this provision into our articles.”
Then the Abbot spoke, suggesting that Sir Cedric be instructed to do
this; and finally, on motion of mine, the articles were back referred to
Cedric and the Abbot with instruction to bring to our meeting, at two o’
the clock on the following day, a fair and perfect copy that we might
adopt and place before the assembled leaders.
’Twas then high noon. As we left the Council Hall, Sir Cedric took me by
the arm and insisted that I come to his inn for the midday meal. There
was in his inviting a special urgency and a look in his eyes from which
I who knew him so well of old instantly gained the knowledge that this
was no ordinary matter of courtesy but something of vastly greater
moment. So I easily suffered myself to be led toward his quarters; and
soon we were seated at a board that was graced with a goodly roast and
all other due refreshment.
When we had something satisfied our hunger, and the old serving man who
waited on us had departed, Cedric bent toward me across the board to
say:
“What sayest thou, Sir Richard, to a ride of a dozen leagues or so and a
little adventure whereby, if Fortune favors, we may do our cause full
loyal service?”
“With all my heart!” I cried, “whither shall we ride, and on what
errand?”
’Twas two months and more since we had seen activity; and this dull life
of the camp and the town was little to my liking. Sir Hubert Gillespie
had lately struck a blow for the King by the surprise and capture of two
strong castles in the Midlands that we had thought safely in our hands,
while we with our brave array at Stamford consumed the days and our
dwindling substance in idleness.
“’Tis one that’s something dangerous, forsooth,” replied my friend, “and
I doubt much whether our elderly and prudent leaders would approve it.”
“Say no more, for Mountjoy is with thee to the hilt. What followers
shall I bring, and with what arms?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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