The Fool (Bailey)/Chapter 17

HEY killed a boar under the down, and hard by found another hart which ran so stoutly that the forest grew dark and never a shot they had, and though the hounds still held on the horses began to fail and Sir Walter was lost and his foresters were lost and at last it was clear to Bran and the King, where nothing else was clear to them, that they had lost themselves.

The discovery was made in a vast splash. Bran stopped with a yell, flung himself out of the saddle, and found that he was on the bank of deep water, wherein was the King and his horse. The King, swearing and laughing, was already scrambling out. Bran haled him up and together they towed the scared, weary horse some way till he found his feet and came to dry land.

"What should this ocean be, brother?" Bran said. "We are many a long mile from the river and the river is no such matter neither, and all else in this country is but brooks. But here is deep sea."

"We have rid over the edge of the world," the King laughed. "Or this is art magic and dreams and I am not wet nor the water. God is my life! Look, we are in hell." Out of the darkness a red glow shot from mid-air to the sky, not in one place, but several, as from vast hidden fires, and as they watched faint smokeless flames rose and fell.

"Nenny, nenny, it cannot be hell, for they have there no water. Or are we mad, brother? Sure that were a gruesome thing, to be mad in hell, yet it hath in a manner comfort."

"Lead on, brother," the King said, "fire of earth, or fire of hell I will dry me my shirt."

Then marching on the glare they found a man with a lantern who lifting it to look at them revealed a face black as coal. "Amen, so be it," Bran said. "Here is the devil."

This man answered him nothing, but pointed on through the dark and turned away.

"Yea, yea, by his pride you may know him," said Bran. "The arch fiend is he."

But the King took hold of him. "Softly, friend, what is this fire of yours?"

The man laughed. "God save you, where was you bred? 'Tis the furnace. And there is the chafery. And yon is the finery. Aye, and yon is the finery too." He pointed from glare to glare.

"Grammercy, brother," Bran laughed. "Now we know all. One chafery is two fineries and two fineries make one chafery. Good news, faith."

"What is your work, fellow?" the King cried.

Again the man laughed loud. "Iron. Strange folk, you. Iron. Iron. You know not where you be. 'Tis the Hammer of the Hatch."

"Now are we back on earth," Bran said. "One Siward dwells here, good fellow?"

"Siward is my master and this his hammer."

"If he has a house to his back, lead on," said the King. "I drip."

He had a house. By the lantern light they made out a long low building, mighty spacious for a common man and of stone. Their guide hammered at the door: "Siward, Siward, here be strange folk rid into the pond."

Bolts were drawn, the door flung wide and they stood in the light, blinking at a sturdy fellow who smiled through a yellow beard. "Here is warmer welcome, friends. What men are you?"

"One Bran a fool and one Henry a King," said Bran.

If he thought to take Siward aback, he was wrong. A keen glance scanned them and down on one knee went Siward. "I am Siward of the Hatch, lord, and what I have is yours and loyal, humble service. Pray you honour me. It is a poor house, mine, but none other there is this many a mile."

"By my faith," said the King, giving his hand and looking hungrily within, "no house ever liked me better."

And indeed Siward lived at his ease. His hall was large and carpeted with fragrant herbs. Pewter was bright on his board and he had white bread and wine, clary and piment, and a roasted crane beside the great joints of beef and pork and high pasties. There were even two good chairs. The King, put into a linen shirt and a robe of fine wool, swore that his yeomen of the wardrobe furnished him worse. He kissed Siward's wife, Elfrida, a large calm woman, he kissed the daughter Ursula and led Elfrida back to her chair, took Siward's, thrust Siward dovm on the bench at his side and vowed that neither man nor woman should lose a supper for him, and fell to.

It was a large household, large as Sir Walter's own, for below the salt sat Siward's workmen and their wives, a sturdy, jolly company, in no awe of master or King, but mannerly enough. "God's my life," said the King, "you are like a lord in his castle, friend Siward. You make good cheer for a goodly band."

"Who work hard must live well. But no lord I," Siward laughed, "nay, God forbid. I am but a craftsman, my lord."

"And all these make iron for you?"

"With me, for you, my lord. With iron is your realm built."

"Well said! But look you now, how little a man knows. I thought I had learnt this England of mine, but never I knew you iron makers were waxed so great. Never I saw such a homestead as yours."

"We lie deep in the forests, my lord. We keep close to our work. And the work grows swift as England grows. My grandsire had but a smithy and he was the first of us who was a freeman, buying his freedom. My father built him one little furnace before he died. So it began. I am not yet old, but the rest is of my own time and since you brought us peace."

"I have builded better than I knew," the King said.

Siward looked at him a moment over his wine cup. "Aye, my lord. So it falls with wise men."

"Yea, yea, ever in luck are the wise," said Bran, "but the fool must live by his wits."

"I see you also have builded well, master Siward," the King said, "many a lord keeps no such cheer as you, no, nor such power about him." Siward looked grave. "You mock me, my lord. We are but hammermen all, they and I, living by our craft and knowing naught else." The folk below the salt, as they finished their supper, went off without word or bow, and Siward only and his wife and daughter were left.

"Mock you, man? Not I," the King laughed. "I could envy you. You with your fair lady and fair maid." He beckoned to Ursula and she came and stood beside him and he put his arm about her and she looked down at him as placid as her mother. "Is it a good life here in the woods, sweetheart?"

"I am always happy, my lord."

"And would you dwell here all your days?"

"If it is to be," she smiled a little, "it will be well."

"And no man has told your fair bosom what is to be?"

"My heart would tell me first, I think."

"And your head too," the King laughed. "Go your ways. I fear you. Have you more, Siward, or is this fair wisdom all?"

"Two sons I have, my lord, but one watches the chafery and one is gone selling horse-shoes and nails to your steward in Guildford."

"Two fineries and one chafery. Two sons and one daughter. The man has all things to his desire," said Bran.

"I will not believe it of any man," the King laughed. "What, Siward, speak true, is there naught that you ask yet?"

"Surely, my lord," Siward smiled. "I would have another furnace. If I had fuel for it, then I might serve two more fineries and another chafery."

"Now he talks Hebrew. God is my life, I must learn this craft of yours that breeds such content in men and maids. Will you make me a hammerman, Siward?" "Every man must be bred to his craft, my lord," Siward smiled. "Why, who comes so late?"

For some one beat, on the door and shouted his name, and when he opened there stood young Walter: "Siward, man, have any of your folk had sight—God be thanked, my lord. All our men are beating the woods for you." In he came, red and splashed. "You have taken no hurt, my lord?"

"I lost myself and found a pond. No hurt, no. Only a noble welcome. And by my soul, master Siward hath had me breaking a commandment this hour past. I covet his house vilely and all that is his."

"Faith, my lord, you could have found no better fortune than Siward and Siward's good cheer. We are again in his debt, my father and I. But will you ride now? There is a good track to Betchworth."

"Young man," the King lay back in his chair and drank and settled his arm again about Ursula, "if you had such fortune as I would you leave it to ride the forest by night?"

"Not alone, sir," said Walter, and Ursula smiled as the men laughed. "But I break your commandment too. Have I your leave to go, my lord? My father is in distress for you."

"Comfort him, my son. Tell him I have found consolation," the King laughed and when he was gone turned to Ursula. "That is a well-bred colt, sweetheart."

"The gentleman is a merry gentleman," said she. And then the King, though still he kept her by him, talked of iron and the making of iron till Bran curled himself up by the fire like a dog and among the dogs went to sleep.