Summary:

"Nay, I have had no tidings of Upmeads since I was fool enough to leave it."

Ralph first asked Hugh if he knew anything about their brother Gregory, at which Hugh laughed and pointed to Higham, saying: “He’s over there.”

“What? Among the Abbot’s men?”

“Yes,” said Hugh, laughing again, “but in his spiritual army, not his military one: he’s a monk, brother. That is, he is already a novice and will be a brother of the Abbey within the next six months.”

“And Launcelot Long-tongue, your squire, how is he?”

“He’s also with the Abbot, but in his military army, not the spiritual one. He is one of their sergeants and a pretty good catch for them, since he’s a good fighter as you know. And he has such a way with words, the men listen to him gladly.”

“But tell me,” said Ralph, “why is it that the Abbot’s men have become so rude and defensive of their town? What are they afraid of? Isn’t the Lord Abbot still powerful?”

Hugh shook his head, saying: “Things have changed in Higham, but I do agree that the knights have become too cautious and afraid.”

“What happened?”

“The Lord Abbot used to be a powerful man, and both Higham and its castles, manors, and other outposts were well-manned and well-defended, and the people were ready to take up arms whenever they were called to fight. In short, Higham was as powerful as it was rich, and the Abbot’s men had no trouble with anybody—that is except with your friends here who wear the Tree Leafless; everyone else was afraid of the holy walls and the blessed men who guarded them.

“They say the Dry Tree feared neither man nor devil (and I hope that’s the case, since they’re on your side), and now and then they would steal from the Abbot’s lands when they had no other entertainment, and often they bested the Abbot’s men.

“But all things come to an end. As I hear it, about a year and a half ago, the Abbot came into conflict with the Westland Barons, who were and still are bad men to deal with, being both hungry and strong. The quarrel grew until my Lord had to fight them, and to make a long story short he himself put on armor and led his men against them. They met some twenty miles to the west in the field of the Wry Bridge, and there the Holy Church was defeated. The Abbot, who is as brave a man as ever sang mass—though not the best at war—would not flee, and since no one was willing to kill him (if they could help it), they took him prisoner and now he sits in their strong castle out west, the Red Mount.

“Well, with him gone and many of his best warriors killed, the rest ran back home. When the Westlanders attacked Higham, expecting to take it easily, the monks and their men put up such a fight that the Westlanders broke their teeth over it. So they turned back and took over most of the castles and forts in the Abbot’s lands, burned some and occupied others,[1] and they took back men and women as slaves, so now the lands of Higham are half-ruined. So the monks, though they’re strong enough inside their walls, will not let their men ride abroad. So they’re cooped up in that place with nothing to do cheer them up and they’ve grown sour and testy.”[2]

“But, brother,” said Ralph, “however rude and cowardly they might be, I can’t see why they would slam their gates in our faces, small as we are, when there are no enemies around.”

“Ralph,” said Hugh, “consider that the Dry Tree is a bad letter of introduction to wave in honest people’s faces—especially monks. The brothers of Higham have a rumor that those Champions have made a deal with the devil to overcome their enemies so long as they’re not outnumbered more than one to five. It’s also said that there are devils among them, some disguised as men, and some (God help us) dressed up in women’s bodies, too, I think. And if not, how could they have overthrown the cruel and terrible men of the Burg of the Four Friths and chased them out of their town, as we know they did. Hah, what do you have to say about that?”

“I say, Hugh,” Ralph said angrily, “that you are a fool to walk around with a pocket full of slanderous old wive’s tales.”

Hugh laughed. “Don’t be so angry, little lord, or I I’ll be asking you about fanciful tales as well.[3] But listen; I’m sure you’ll smile when you hear this: people are afraid not just of their old enemies—the men led by devils—but they also fear those whom the men led by devils have driven out of their homes—that is, the Burgers. And they fear the Burgers more, because they have beaten some of Higham’s foes—that is, the Westland Barons; they’ve taken some of their strongholds and people say they’re gathering their forces.”

Ralph thought about this for a while, then said: “Brother, have you heard any news from Upmeads, or about the Burgers going there?”

“God forbid!” said Hugh. “No, I haven’t heard from Upmeads since I was stupid enough to leave it.”

“What? Have you had a bad time then?”

“I have had ups and downs,” said Hugh, “but going up has been one rung on the ladder and going down has been three rungs or more. I was in prison for three months for getting my skull cracked in a fight that had nothing to do with me.[4] I spent six months trapped in a town, following my bad luck. I spent two days running from that place, having climbed the wall and swum across the ditch in the night.[5] I served for three months as a squire to a knight who put me in charge watching his wife, whom he was very jealous of, and as payment I was to make love to that with, who (to tell the truth), might have been worth it. I snuck out of that situation, too. I spent ten months living at the edge of the wildwood (and sometimes in it), with some fellows who taught me many things, but not how to keep my hands off of other people’s stuff when I was hungry.

“From there I got taken with some five other men by sergeants from Higham, whom the warriors of the town had sent out to see if they could find men for their ranks. Well, they gave me a choice between the gallows or service of the Church, and so I made my choice and I was there until this evening when I saw your face, fair sir.”

“Well, brother,” said Ralph, “it will all be better now, and you will come back to Upmeads with me. Though it might also be good to better yourself, a bit.”

“I’ll try, brother. But can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Fair Sir,” said Hugh, “you seemed to have grown into a pretty man back when the sun was up and the darkness didn’t make us all look alike, but the men behind us are not the sort to be led by men who have not proved themselves as warriors. Yet they follow you, so how is that? And also, I saw a woman riding near us (though noe she’s just a shadow), she looked so fair and gentle and I’m not surprised she’s following you (though if she is an earl’s daughter then she’s a good catch for an imp from Upmeads) since you’re a handsome lad, little lord, and and a good talker besides. But tell me, who is she?”

“Brother,” said Ralph kindly, “she is my wife.”

“I’ll show her all due respect,” said Hugh. “Of what lineage is she?”

“She’s my wife,” said Ralph.

“That’s a high honor.”

“You speak true words, though you say them as a joke, which is a poor way to treat your brother. But listen, I have become a Friend of the Well and am a match for the daughter of the best of Kings; yet this one is a better match for me than the highest Princess, for she also is a Friend of the Well. Moreover, you say that the champions of the Dry Tree—who would think little of an earl as their leader—are eager to follow me: if you still doubt what that might mean, wait two or three days when you see me in front of my enemy. Then you can tell me how much I have changed from the boy you knew in Upmeads a little while ago.”

Then Hugh was somewhat embarrassed and he said: “I ask your forgiveness, brother, but I never had a smooth tongue, and it’s likely gotten rougher through the hard times I’ve experienced lately. Besides, it was boring there and I needed to get a little amusement out of friends and family.”

“All right,” said Ralph, kindly, “you asked and I answered, and that’s that.”

“But honestly, you have told me one wonder after another.”

“I have,” said Ralph, “and later I’ll tell you more when we are safe in Upmeads, safe and drinking wine.”

Then one of the scouts came riding back, drawing up by Ralph and telling him that they were close to a little town by a steep hill, which marked the beginning of the Down country on that road. So Ralph called to stop and rest there overnight, and they would look for news in the morning. The man told Ralph that the people of the town were fleeing at news of their company approaching, and that it would be best to send some ten men to the town quickly so that it wouldn’t be empty when they came to rest.

Ralph told him to do so, but to make sure that no one was hurt and no fires set, and the man took a group and rode ahead, and Ralph and the rest came on quietly. When they came into the town, there was a big fire set at the crossroads, and the elders standing by with their hats in their hands, and twenty strong men with weapons. Then the chief of them came up to Ralph and greeted him, saying: “Lord, when we heard that an armed company was close at hand, we thought that it must be the riders of the Burg coming to attack us, so we had nothing to do but to run away as far and as fast as we could. But now we have heard that you are a good lord going to help his own people with the help of brave champions, and an enemy of those devils of the Burg. We ask that you look upon us and all we have as yours, lord, and take kindly what we have to offer you.”

The old man’s voice wavered a little as he looked at the dark sign of the Dry Tree, but Ralph looked at him kindly and said: “Yes, my master, we will only ask for a roof over our heads and what food you can easily spare for our silver, and we will give you our thanks as well. But who are these strong lads with staves and bucklers?”

At that, a tall young man with a spear in his hand and wearing a short sword in his belt came forward and said boldly: “Lord, we are a few who heard that the Burg-devils were coming and thought we might as well die in the field, paying them back blow for blow, rather than be dragged off and fall to pieces in the hands of our tormentors. And now that you have come, we have little desire to remain behind, rather we’d like to follow you and see how we can help. And after you have won, we can go back to our people and you may give us a gift, if you’re willing to: but we would not think less if all you gave us was food and lodging with your men for a while in these hard times.”

When he was done speaking, a murmur of appreciation rose up from the Champions, and Ralph was well-pleased with this, seeing it as a good omen. He said: “Fear not, good fellows, that I will forget you when we have overcome the enemy, and until then we will live and die together. But you, elder, show our sergeants where our riders can lie tonight and what they should do with their horses.”

So the elders directed the little group to their lodgings for the night, mostly to a big barn on the western outskirt of the town. The elder who led them there brought them food and good drink, and said to them: “Lords, you should keep a good watch tonight, because it is from this direction that we expect enemies, if they are out tonight. In truth, that’s one of the reasons we’ve put you here, feeling that you would not withhold from us the sense of safety we get knowing such strong men are between us and them, we being poor and our town without walls.

Stephen, to whom he was speaking, laughed and said: “Cheer up, carle! within these few days we will build you a better wall than you can get from stone: we will overthrow our enemies on the field of battle.”

So there was kindness and community between the people of the town and the riders, and the country folk told them about the terrible doings of the Burg-devils, as they called them. But they could not say for certain whether they had gone down into Upmeads.[7]

As for Ralph and Ursula, they—with Richard and Roger—were lodged in the chief’s house, and they had a good meal there and talked over the whereabouts of the Burgers and the townsfolk, but they couldn’t get any certain news. So he and Ursula and his friends went to bed and slept peacefully for the first hours of the night.

Notes:

[1] In a situation where they can’t spare the men to properly hold and defend all the locations they captured, burning some of them so the Abbot’s men can’t use them is a good plan.

[2] Everything up to this point is a single paragraph in the original.

[3] “Or I shall be asking thee tales of marvels also.” I’m not sure about the exact meaning of this… maybe he’s saying “Well, I’m sure you believe some wild stuff, too.”

[4] In Book 2, Chapter 14, Richard said “Lord Hugh is likely to be slain in some empty brawl, unless he come back speedily to Upmeads.”

[5] He describes himself as “besieged” in the town, but it’s hard to tell if he’s being literal or not. The town might have actually been under siege, but he managed to sneak out so it might just mean he got into trouble.

[6a] “I served squire to a knight who gave me the business of watching his wife of whom he was jealous; and to help me out of the weariness of his house I must needs make love myself to the said wife, who sooth to say was perchance worth it.”

[6b] That’s a pretty wild story. “Make love” here could mean sex but it might also just mean romantic interaction. Who knows?

[7] This is the second time (I think) that Upmeads has been described as “down” from the areas south of it, which I discussed my confusion about before.

Map: