Runnymede and Lincoln Fair : $b A story of the Great CharterEdgar, John G. (John George)
History
Runnymede and Lincoln Fair : $b A story of the Great Charter
Edgar, John G. (John George)
Great Britain -- History -- John, 1199-1216 -- Fiction
The sagacious animal at once comprehended his master’s wish, and
hesitated not to obey. Crouching upon its haunches in readiness for a
spring, its bloodshot eyes glaring fiercely, and every hair upon its
shaggy back quivering with rage and eagerness, the hound waited till the
foremost horseman had gained the bank, and then sprang upon the horse’s
neck, into which the dog’s long and sharp claws were plunged while his
teeth were at the rider’s throat. Maddened with pain, the steed plunged,
reared, and finally slipping upon the slimy margin of the stream, fell
backwards into the water, carrying man and dog with him. The hound,
however, did not quit his hold till the struggles of the man having
ceased showed that he was harmless. The animal then regained the bank
and prepared to take a further part in the fray, which had meanwhile
been fiercely waged there. One blow of Oliver’s battle-axe had been
sufficient to put Sir Anthony’s second supporter _hors-de-combat_, while
Collingham was engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand encounter with
Waledger and a third of his men-at-arms. Others continued to cross the
brook, and Oliver was now hard pressed by three assailants at once, and,
fighting at the disadvantage of being on foot while his opponents were
on horseback, had received more than one hurt, though not seriously
injured. Collingham, perceiving that his friend could not long maintain
so unequal a contest, disregarding his less formidable antagonist, first
pressed Sir Anthony so closely as to force him back to the very verge of
the stream, and then, backing his own steed suddenly a few paces, gave
him the spur and dashed against Waledger with so much force as to upset
man and horse into the water in even worse plight than his follower had
been before, as, from the weight of his armour, he was in danger of
drowning at once. Meanwhile, Oliver had disposed of one of his three
assailants, a swinging blow from Collingham’s sword settled a second,
and the third, hearing the shout of “Save Sir Anthony! save Sir
Anthony!” raised by the rest of his fellows, turned his horse and
plunged again into the stream, followed by the yeoman who had attacked
Collingham.
“By the mass, Icingla, thou hast plied thine axe well,” shouted
Collingham. “But it were folly to risk further fighting. Thou art
wounded, I see, and I myself am not scathless, so, while the knaves are
fishing their drunken leader out of the water, get up behind me and let
us make the best of our way for the refuge in the marshes.”
“I am loth to part with the knaves even thus,” said Oliver; “but thou
art right, Sir William. We have a chance to escape now, and can reckon
with the rascals another time.”
So saying, he mounted behind his friend, and the two, followed by the
hound, dashed off towards a clump of forest not far off, leaving the
haquenée to its fate, and the followers of Sir Anthony Waledger to
rescue their master how they could.
CHAPTER XXXV
THE RUDDY LION RAMPANT
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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