Her kirtle was wine-red, her smock linen-white, her hair in auburn braids. The knight watched her curls that would not keep from escaping their net. Enthralled, he saw her hands lift and make shadows upon the wall. Besmitten, he glimpsed her sweet face by turns smiling and grimacing and teeth bared and fierce in battle switched. She stomped her feet to show the goblin’s tread. She swished her skirt to mark the lady’s entry. She blew cheeks wide to scorch with the dragon’s breath. And through the story always the woodsman with his axe held high. Chop he right, chop he left. Before him, all did fall.
The villagers followed her story with gaping mouths and James looked in wonder as she adapted to the music that played at her backside. He knew she had no knowledge what song next be played, be it romantic ballad, war tune, or religious hymn. But every one she incorporated within her tale. He had been hard pressed to keep straight face during the religious hymn wherest she made the Goblin play at being priest. A fatal marriage that, wedded by Goblin in mockery of the sacred rite.
As Aethelinda the laird’s prized wren sang, James thought on song to challenge. He smiled as he remembered his babe brother’s favored lullaby, but no, too easy for this quick maiden. Again he thought himself of his neighbor McCafferty’s favorite drinking song. But no, this Lord Beasley would not allow. It was a challenge indeed. And Saints be praised, he knew of which to choose and, with goblet to lips, did smile wide. He made a prayer to St. Gregory upon his goblet for giving him kind inspiration. The knight awaited the finish of Aethelinda’s song, ‘Sweet William’.
“Lord Beasley,” he said with good humor. “On the morrow, holy Tobias and I go forward in haste to find the Knight’s refuge of Balsall. I have heard tell from your sons that a tournament awaits on the feast of St. Joseph. I have me in mind to join the lists and defend the honor of this fair town. It would please me much to have your daughter sing the song of John Barleycorn who survived such torture that he might bring life to this, his land.”
The small speech of the Scottish knight brought untempered reaction amongst the host. There were those who were pleased. The brothers Beasley were envious and did cajole their father to let them journey also. The Lord himself was most honored to have a seasoned knight represent the village of Warborough once more. Not since he himself had fallen in the lists these six years had a knight worn the shield of Warborough in battle.
But there were also those who were ill-pleased at his words. Lady Beasley and Aethel were much distressed to hear of his soon flight. The monk, Tobias, also looked upon his friend with great disfavor. He liked not the suggestion that James should die for this foreigner’s town. But most unexpected was reaction from Roger Roy. With swollen face and bleary eyes he boasted, “Ha! Blindfolded I could beat this man, be he on horse and I on foot.”
Beasley turned with laugh and said, “Man, you are drunk indeed. Go you the morrow with the brave Scottish knight and defend Nuneaton’s honor, but else speak not. You have drunk too much.”
Roy raised himself from bench and made pledge, “The morrow I go to the lists to fight for Nuneaton’s honor and my young bride.” He looked about him and unseeing of his Philomena made toast to Aethelinda in her stead.
Aethel did blush and began a singing the Scottish knight’s ‘John Barleycorn’. But her voice did fail, for it was a most terrible song and she had not the fight for it. Thus with pride, Andrew took up the verse of ‘Barleycorn’ whilst Aethel went to her mother for cold comfort.
There was three men came out of the west,
Their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow,
John Barleycorn should die.
Halpert bit his thumb at this sad turn How could he now abduct the young Philomena when her betrothed rode at his side? He looked upon Tobias who gave him hard look. He knew he would receive no counsel for any righteous monk detested the heathen’s song of the Corn King’s yearly death. The prophecy was no help to neither, for it had only said ‘the man-at-arms will espy a girl who would he take to the Knights Templar’
They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in,
Throwed clods upon his head,
And these three man made a solemn vow,
John Barleycorn was dead.
He looked upon the girl in her red dress and renewed his solemn vow that through the Grace of God he would save his dear people of Aberfoyle. And he watched as her fingers flew showing the dragon, goblin, and a passing ogre make pact to kill the woodsman. He expelled breath at her quick wit. And wondered how she’d save the poor woodsman his fate.
They hired men with the scythes so sharp
To cut him off at the knee,
They rolled him and tied him by the waist,
And served him most barbarously.
They hired men with the sharp pitchforks
Who pricked him to the heart,
And the loader he served him worse than that,
For he bound him to the cart.
Amidst the clapping of the townspeople, Philomena played out the dastardly scheme of these monstrous villains. Andrew could hear the children singing along and with great booming voice called out the next verse.
They wheeled him round and round the field
Till they came unto a barn,
And there they made a solemn mow
of poor John Barleycorn.
They hired men with the crab-tree sticks
To cut him skin from bone,
And the miller he served him worse than that
For he ground him between two stones.
And now all in Hall, from lowest table to high, sang and clapped along. James was saddened to see that his Philomena had stopt her tale in order to spin one of her wee brothers in circle. Now he would not know how the goblin did meet its sad death, nor how the woodsman was saved.
And little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl
Proved the stronger man at last.
And the huntsman he can't hunt the fox,
Nor so loudly blow his horn,
And the tinker he can't mend kettles or pots
Without a little of Barleycorn.
The Scotsmen laid their cloaks upon the straw. The table’s cloths had been folded. The benches pushed back and the trestle tables dismantled. The chests opened to retrieve blankets for the night. Now there was nothing save the thirty-odd bodies of the Lord’s kin and servants laying out their beds for the night upon the hay.
Tobias was in foul mood. “I feel as naked as e’er I have, with no hair shirt.”
The knight removed armor to lay at his side near beyond his halberd, “Well, it will be a trial for you this night that you must face for the sake of God’s good will.”
“It is not seemly,” Tobias grieved as he removed tunic and leggings. James hid smile within his beard and said nothing. All round were man and woman unclothed and it was right and seemly. That Tobias should in his nakedness feel so marked was a passing fancy.
Halpert removed his travel-worn boots and glanced to see where such and so of his hosts were situated. He saw his Pam across the Hall removing ribbons from her sister’s hair. She was still in chemise and he could see her form through the light cloth. He felt stirring in his loins so quickly turned attention to other folk.
He spied that Roy lay near the town-road doors. Luck was with the knight, the oaf had already fallen in drunken stupor before removing his breeches. They would stink the next day of piss and beer, but at least the Scottish knight need not worry the molesting of Roy’s betrothed that night.
As the knight undid tunic and breeches, he whispered worry to the monk regarding the morrow. But the monk would not answer for he was half of the belief that trouble-all stemmed from James’ own fault. Halpert bent to prayer, he prayed that the girl Philomena would have answer in the morn, for he had none. Save one answer… that he would wish this night to lie with her. And that was a desire that God would not appease.
He covered self with cloak and paused to watch the maiden as she prepared her rest. She did undo her braids as she told stories to the elusive Hilde. She removed chemise and he drew in breath that his desire was so strong. He thought on his quest and he thought on her and, as the Lord’s young son went about to snuff the candles, he thought on Aberfoyle and wouldst she like the Highlands and wouldst she like her life there.
The sounds from the River Avon, the snores of the drunken, and the moans of the fornicating were soothing to him, reminding him of feasts a-home. He fell asleep with questions unanswered but heart content that he did right by God and Aberfoyle.
