With Ring of Shield

Excerpt

CHAPTER I

SIR FREDERICK HARLESTON

In these days, when the air is filled with the irritating, peevish sounds of chattering gossips, which tell of naught but the scandals of a court, where Queens are as faithless as are their lives brief, methinks it will not be amiss for me to tell a story of more martial days, when gossips told of armies marching and great battles fought, with pointed lance, and with the bright swords' flash, and with the lusty ring of shield.

Now, my friend Harleston doth contend, that peace and quiet, without the disturbing clamour of war's dread alarms, do help to improve the mind, and thus the power of thought is added unto. This, I doubt not, is correct in the cases of some men; but there are others, to whom peace and quiet do but bring a lack of their appreciation. I grant that to such a mind as Harleston's, peaceful and undisturbed meditation are the fields in which they love to stroll, and pluck, with tender hand, and thought-bowed head, the most beautiful and most rare of flowers: but then, such even-balanced brains as his are few and far between; and even he, so fond of thought and study, did love to dash, with levelled lance and waving plumes, against the best opponent, and hurl him from his saddle.

And there is Michael, which ever thinks the same as do myself, and longs for fresh obstacles to lay his mighty hand upon and crush, as he would a reed.

It is of those bygone days of struggle and deep intrigue that I now shall write. I do hope that some of ye—my sons and grandsons—may, after I am laid to rest, have some worthy obstacles to overcome, in order that ye may the better enjoy your happiness when it is allotted unto you. Still do I pray, with my old heart's truest earnestness, that no one of my blood may have as great trials as I went through; but in which I had the noble assistance and sympathy of the best friends ever man was blest with. I shall now tell of my meeting with the first of these, and later in the tale I shall tell ye of the other.

I, Walter Bradley, then a faithful servant of his Majesty King Edward IV, was sitting one evening in my room at the palace of the aforesaid King, at Windsor, engaged in the examination of some of mine arms, to make sure that my servants had put them all in proper order for our expedition into Scotland, with the King's brother, the Duke of Gloucester. A knock came at my door and, upon opening, I beheld Lord Hastings, then the Chancellor of the Kingdom, and at his side a gentleman which I had not before seen. This stranger was a man of splendid physique, about mine own height; long, light brown, waving hair; blue eyes, that looked me fairly in mine own; sharp features; and yet, with all his look of unbending will, and proud bearing, he had a kindly expression in his honest eyes.

"This is my young friend, Sir Frederick Harleston, just now arrived from Calais," said Hastings, as they both entered at mine invitation, and he introduced us to each other.

The Chancellor stayed but until he got our conversation running freely, and then he spoke of some business of state that did demand his immediate attention, and left us to become better acquainted....