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G. A. Henty
The Life of a Knight (Historical Novel)
Historical Novels - Medieval Series: Winning His Spurs, St. George For England, The Lion of St. Mark, At Agincourt & A Knight of the White Cross
Published by
Books
- Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting -
2020 OK Publishing
EAN 4064066386184
Table of Contents
Winning His Spurs: A Tale of the Crusades
St. George For England: A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers
The Lion of St. Mark: A Story of Venice in the Fourteenth Century
At Agincourt: A Tale of the White Hoods of Paris
A Knight of the White Cross: A Tale of the Siege of Rhodes
Winning His Spurs: A Tale of the Crusades
Chapter III. The Capture Of Wortham Hold.
Chapter IX. The Princess Berengaria.
Chapter XIII. In The Hands Of The Saracens.
Chapter XIV. An Effort For Freedom.
Chapter XVI. A Fight Of Heroes.
Chapter XVII. An Alpine Storm.
Chapter XVIII. Sentenced To Death.
Chapter XX. Under The Greenwood.
Chapter XXI. The Attempt On The Convent.
Chapter XXII. A Dastardly Stratagem.
Chapter XXIII. The False And Perjured Knight.
Chapter XXIV. The Siege Of Evesham Castle.
Chapter XXV. In Search Of The King.
Chapter XXVI. King Richard's Return To England.
Chapter I.
The Outlaws.
It was a bright morning in the month of August, when a lad of some fifteen years of age, sitting on a low wall, watched party after party of armed men riding up to the castle of the Earl of Evesham. A casual observer glancing at his curling hair and bright open face, as also at the fashion of his dress, would at once have assigned to him a purely Saxon origin; but a keener eye would have detected signs that Norman blood ran also in his veins, for his figure was lither and lighter, his features more straightly and shapely cut, than was common among Saxons. His dress consisted of a tight-fitting jerkin, descending nearly to his knees. The material was a light-blue cloth, while over his shoulder hung a short cloak of a darker hue. His cap was of Saxon fashion, and he wore on one side a little plume of a heron. In a somewhat costly belt hung a light short sword, while across his knees lay a crossbow, in itself almost a sure sign of its bearer being of other than Saxon blood. The boy looked anxiously as party after party rode past towards the castle.
"I would give something," he said, "to know what wind blows these knaves here. From every petty castle in the Earl's feu the retainers seem hurrying here. Is he bent, I wonder, on settling once and for all his quarrels with the Baton of Wortham? or can he be intending to make a clear sweep of the woods? Ah! here comes my gossip Hubert; he may tell me the meaning of this gathering."
Leaping to his feet, the speaker started at a brisk walk to meet a jovial-looking personage coming down from the direction of the castle. The new comer was dressed in the attire of a falconer, and two dogs followed at his heels.
"Ah, Master Cuthbert," he said, "what brings you so near to the castle? It is not often that you favour us with your presence."
"I am happier in the woods, as you well know, and was on my way thither but now, when I paused at the sight of all these troopers flocking in to Evesham. What enterprise has Sir Walter on hand now, think you?"
"The earl keeps his own counsel," said the falconer, "but methinks a shrewd guess might be made at the purport of the gathering. It was but three days since that his