This message was delivered. And within the hour the heralds came back bearing the town’s answer to the King. There was a good deal of surprise when it was noticed that Count Godfrey had not returned with the others. But in his place had come the Mayor, very frightened and upset. He explained that the people had known nothing of the Duke’s treacherous plans against the royal person till this morning. They had refused to join in the rebellion. The Duke, in a furious rage, had threatened to hang them all; but had at last decided to take flight while there was still time. Count Godfrey had now gone off in pursuit of him with a picked company of fast horsemen. Order had been restored within the town; and all the Duke’s troops had taken the oath of allegiance to the King. The people were now eagerly awaiting His Majesty’s arrival that they might have a chance to do him honour and show their loyalty as obedient and loving subjects.
The only reply the King made was to nod his head thoughtfully and to ask after the safety of the Countess Barbara and the others of his party whom he had been forced to leave behind. When the Mayor had assured him that they were all well, His Majesty gave the order to march. Then the whole of the great army moved on towards the town as darkness settled down upon the land.
18 The boy knight
His Majesty’s second entrance into the town was the grandest thing that Giles had ever seen. The Mayor had sent his own messengers ahead to tell the people of the gracious way in which the King had received him. And long before the army reached the gates they saw the flare of street bonfires against the sky and heard the pealing of the church bells as the people made ready to welcome the sovereign and his troops. The noise as they drew nearer got louder and louder. And when the royal party passed under the arch of the town gate it was positively deafening. The people surged forward towards the King, yelling themselves hoarse, waving handkerchiefs and throwing up their caps.
Giles’s first thought now was for his own family. And through the smoky light of torches and bonfires his eyes searched the crowded faces for his parents, Anne or Luke. He saw nothing of them, however, and did not have a chance to dismount until His Majesty had ridden into the courtyard of the castle. Here, where the noise of the rejoicing townsfolk was not so close and deafening, the King got down from his horse. He immediately went into the great stone building and the nobles attendant on him followed.
Giles would have taken this opportunity to slip away; but as he was still carrying the shell and had not yet been given permission to leave, he remained at the King’s side. In the great Council Chamber of the Duke’s castle His Majesty, still dressed in dusty riding clothes, now held a reception. He sat in the great chair on a platform at the end of the long room while people in hundreds came to pay their respects, to be questioned or to bring him news.
Giles did not know who most of them were, except when the heralds announced their names in a loud voice. First came those of the King’s own people who had been left behind here when he had been forced to fly. Among them the boy noticed particularly two ladies. The first was the Princess Sophronia, the King’s aunt. She was very ugly, Giles thought, and made a great fuss to His Majesty about his leaving her here and the way she had been treated—though it did not seem, when she was questioned by her nephew, that she had suffered any very great hardships. The other was a young girl, the Countess Barbara, who came accompanied by her father, the Commander of the King’s Archers. She had blue eyes and wonderful golden hair. And Giles thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.
Next to come were some dozens of messengers and officers, who brought reports and news of many matters concerning the town and the dukedom.
Then several men were brought forward under guard with their hands tied behind their backs. These were nobles in the Duke’s service who were suspected of being in the plot against the King. His Majesty, with a very black look on his face, questioned them a long time in a quiet voice. He then waved them aside while he gave audience to the others.
The whole business seemed to be taking a long time, and the King looked very tired. Giles, hungry for supper and impatient to be off into the town, saw clearly for the first time that being the ruler of a country was not all fun and glory. At last, right at the end of the long line of chamberlains and ministers and what not, the Count Godfrey turned up again, his long riding-boots spattered with mud, perspiration still dripping from his brow. He seemed almost too weary to stand. The King rose to meet him and bade a servant bring a chair for him. The Count sank down and told his story.
The Duke was dead. He and his brother, with two other leaders in the plot, had been pursued far into the mountains that lay on the south border of the dukedom. There, in a rocky gorge, on the banks of a wide and swiftly running river, Godfrey and his men had cornered him. The Duke, seeing capture at hand, had spurred his horse into the mad torrent, hoping to gain safety on the further shore. His brother and companions followed him. All four, with their horses, had been swept downstream into the whirlpools and drowned.
When the Count had ended, the King sat for a long time in silence, staring at the floor. At last he looked up and commanded the men who were bound and guarded to be brought before him.
‘Our cousin,’ said he slowly, ‘has saved us much trouble. This has been indeed a sad beginning to our reign; but it would have been sadder still if we had had to execute him for treason. And I do not see that any other course would have been left to us had he fallen into our hands. For he was a determined man—and a brave one—even if a traitor to his King. Nor is it our wish that our first days as ruler of the land should be marked in history by bloody penalties and punishments. You gentlemen, by your treason, have deserved to lose your heads. But we judge that you have been led astray by the stronger will of our cousin into a rebellion against us, which, if you had been left to yourselves, you would likely never have thought of. As my life has been saved by a boy whom good fortune sent me in the nick of time, so also shall yours be saved by the Duke’s unhappy accident. The leader is dead and the rebellion is over. You are pardoned, gentlemen, on the condition of your oath that you will never again go back upon your faith to us and to the Crown.’
The ropes about the wrists of the men were loosed; and they at once fell gladly on their knees and swore to be true and faithful to the King and his house for the rest of their days.
His Majesty rose from the great chair with a sigh.
‘We now declare the sovereignty of this dukedom,’ said he, ‘and our cousin’s title with it, at an end for ever. Henceforth these lands shall be governed as part of the royal domain and in the same manner as the rest of our kingdom.—Where is that boy we brought with us?’
‘Do you mean me, Sir?’ said Giles, popping out from behind the great chair.
His sudden comical appearance changed His Majesty’s humour in a flash. The weary seriousness in the King’s face turned into an amused smile. It seemed almost as though he grew a little more boyish himself for looking at this lad before him.
‘Yes, indeed, I mean you,’ said he. ‘What is your name?’
‘Giles, Your Majesty.’
‘Giles? Humph!’ muttered the King. ‘That’s not a bad name. He had royal blood in his veins too. He was the patron saint of cripples, wasn’t he? ... That’s odd. You spoke of a lame friend you had who helped you in getting to see me. Well, maybe you can carry on Saint Giles’s work. Bring your friend to the castle tomorrow. I’d like to know him. Now, what is your other name? Your family name, I mean.’