THE whole vast plain of Gascony and of Languedoc is an arid andprofitless expanse in winter save where the swift-flowing Adourand her snow-fed tributaries, the Louts, the Oloron and the Pau,run down to the sea of Biscay. South of the Adour the jaggedline of mountains which fringe the sky-line send out long graniteclaws, running down into the lowlands and dividing them into"gaves" or stretches of valley. Hillocks grow into hills, andhills into mountains, each range overlying its neighbor, untilthey soar up in the giant chain which raises its spotless anduntrodden peaks, white and dazzling, against the pale blue wintrysky.

A quiet land is this--a land where the slow-moving Basque, withhis flat biretta-cap, his red sash and his hempen sandals, tillshis scanty farm or drives his lean flock to their hill-sidepastures. It is the country of the wolf and the isard, of thebrown bear and the mountain-goat, a land of bare rock and ofrushing water. Yet here it was that the will of a great princehad now assembled a gallant army; so that from the Adour to thepasses of Navarre the barren valleys and wind-swept wastes werepopulous with soldiers and loud with the shouting of orders andthe neighing of horses. For the banners of war had been flung tothe wind once more, and over those glistening peaks was thehighway along which Honor pointed in an age when men had chosenher as their guide.

And now all was ready for the enterprise. From Dax to St. JeanPied-du-Port the country was mottled with the white tents ofGascons, Aquitanians and English, all eager for the advance. Fromall sides the free companions had trooped in, until not less thantwelve thousand of these veteran troops were cantoned along thefrontiers of Navarre. From England had arrived the prince'sbrother, the Duke of Lancaster, with four hundred knights in histrain and a strong company of archers. Above all, an heir to thethrone had been born in Bordeaux, and the prince might leave hisspouse with an easy mind, for all was well with mother and withchild.

The keys of the mountain passes still lay in the hands of theshifty and ignoble Charles of Navarre, who had chaffered andbargained both with the English and with the Spanish, takingmoney from the one side to hold them open and from the other tokeep them sealed. The mallet hand of Edward, however, hadshattered all the schemes and wiles of the plotter. Neitherentreaty nor courtly remonstrance came from the English prince;but Sir Hugh Calverley passed silently over the border with hiscompany, and the blazing walls of the two cities of Miranda andPuenta della Reyna warned the unfaithful monarch that there wereother metals besides gold, and that he was dealing with a man towhom it was unsafe to lie. His price was paid, his objectionssilenced, and the mountain gorges lay open to the invaders. Fromthe Feast of the Epiphany there was mustering and massing, until,in the first week of February--three days after the White Companyjoined the army--the word was given for a general advance throughthe defile of Roncesvalles. At five in the cold winter's morningthe bugles were blowing in the hamlet of St. Jean Pied-du-Port,and by six Sir Nigel's Company, three hundred strong, were ontheir way for the defile, pushing swiftly in the dim light up thesteep curving road; for it was the prince's order that theyshould be the first to pass through, and that they should remainon guard at the further end until the whole army had emerged fromthe mountains. Day was already breaking in the east, and thesummits of the great peaks had turned rosy red, while the valleysstill lay in the shadow, when they found themselves with thecliffs on either hand and the long, rugged pass stretching awaybefore them.

Sir Nigel rode his great black war-horse at the head of hisarchers, dressed in full armor, with Black Simon bearing hisbanner behind him, while Alleyne at his bridle-arm carried hisblazoned shield and his well-steeled ashen spear. A proud andhappy man was the knight, and many a time he turned in his saddleto look at the long column of bowmen who swung swiftly alongbehind him.

"By Saint Paul! Alleyne," said he, "this pass is a very perilousplace, and I would that the King of Navarre had held it againstus, for it would have been a very honorable venture had it fallento us to win a passage. I have heard the minstrels sing of oneSir Rolane who was slain by the infidels in these very parts."

"If it please you, my fair lord," said Black Simon, "I knowsomething of these parts, for I have twice served a term with theKing of Navarre. There is a hospice of monks yonder, where youmay see the roof among the trees, and there it was that SirRoland was slain. The village upon the left is Orbaiceta, and Iknow a house therein where the right wine of Jurancon is to bebought, if it would please you to quaff a morning cup,"

"There is smoke yonder upon the right."

"That is a village named Les Aldudes, and I know a hostel therealso where the wine is of the best. It is said that the inn-keeper hath a buried treasure, and I doubt not, my fair lord,that if you grant me leave I could prevail upon him to tell uswhere he hath hid it."

"Nay, nay, Simon," said Sir Nigel curtly, "I pray you to forgetthese free companion tricks. Ha! Edricson, I see that you stareabout you, and in good sooth these mountains must seem wondrousindeed to one who hath but seen Butser or the Portsdown hill."

The broken and rugged road had wound along the crests of lowhills, with wooded ridges on either side of it over which peepedthe loftier mountains, the distant Peak of the South and the vastAltabisca, which towered high above them and cast its blackshadow from left to right across the valley. From where they nowstood they could look forward down a long vista of beech woodsand jagged rock-strewn wilderness, all white with snow, to wherethe pass opened out upon the uplands beyond. Behind them theycould still catch a glimpse of the gray plains of Gascony, andcould see her rivers gleaming like coils of silver in thesunshine. As far as eye could see from among the rocky gorgesand the bristles of the pine woods there came the quick twinkleand glitter of steel, while the wind brought with it suddendistant bursts of martial music from the great host which rolledby every road and by-path towards the narrow pass ofRoncesvalles. On the cliffs on either side might also be seenthe flash of arms and the waving of pennons where the force ofNavarre looked down upon the army of strangers who passedthrough their territories.

"By Saint Paul!" said Sir Nigel, blinking up at them, "I thinkthat we have much to hope for from these cavaliers, for theycluster very thickly upon our flanks. Pass word to the men,Aylward, that they unsling their bows, for I have no doubt thatthere are some very worthy gentlemen yonder who may give us someopportunity for honorable advancement."

"I hear that the prince hath the King of Navarre as hostage,"said Alleyne, "and it is said that he hath sworn to put him todeath if there be any attack upon us."

"It was not so that war was made when good King Edward firstturned his hand to it," said Sir Nigel sadly. "Ah! Alleyne, Ifear that you will never live to see such things, for the mindsof men are more set upon money and gain than of old. By SaintPaul! it was a noble sight when two great armies would drawtogether upon a certain day, and all who had a vow would rideforth to discharge themselves of it. What noble spear-runningshave I not seen, and even in an humble way had a part in, whencavaliers would run a course for the easing of their souls andfor the love of their ladies! Never a bad word have I for theFrench, for, though I have ridden twenty times up to their array,I have never yet failed to find some very gentle and worthyknight or squire who was willing to do what he might to enable meto attempt some small feat of arms. Then, when all cavaliers hadbeen satisfied, the two armies would come to hand-strokes, andfight right merrily until one or other had the vantage. By SaintPaul! it was not our wont in those days to pay gold for theopening of passes, nor would we hold a king as hostage lest hispeople come to thrusts with us. In good sooth, if the war is tobe carried out in such a fashion, then it is grief to me that Iever came away from Castle Twynham, for I would not have left mysweet lady had I not thought that there were deeds of arms to bedone."

"But surely, my fair lord," said Alleyne, "you have done somegreat feats of arms since we left the Lady Loring."

"I cannot call any to mind," answered Sir Nigel.

"There was the taking of the sea-rovers, and the holding of thekeep against the Jacks."

"Nay, nay," said the knight, "these were not feats of arms, butmere wayside ventures and the chances of travel. By Saint Paul!if it were not that these hills are over-steep for Pommers, Iwould ride to these cavaliers of Navarre and see if there werenot some among them who would help me to take this patch frommine eye. It is a sad sight to see this very fine pass, which myown Company here could hold against an army, and yet to ridethrough it with as little profit as though it were the lane frommy kennels to the Avon."

All morning Sir Nigel rode in a very ill-humor, with his Companytramping behind him. It was a toilsome march over broken groundand through snow, which came often as high as the knee, yet erethe sun had begun to sink they had reached the spot where thegorge opens out on to the uplands of Navarre, and could see thetowers of Pampeluna jutting up against the southern sky-line.Here the Company were quartered in a scattered mountain hamlet,and Alleyne spent the day looking down upon the swarming armywhich poured with gleam of spears and flaunt of standards throughthe narrow pass.

"Hola, mon gar.," said Aylward, seating himself upon a boulder byhis side. "This is indeed a fine sight upon which it is good tolook, and a man might go far ere he would see so many brave menand fine horses. By my hilt! our little lord is wroth because wehave come peacefully through the passes, but I will warrant himthat we have fighting enow ere we turn our faces northward again.It is said that there are four-score thousand men behind the Kingof Spain, with Du Guesclin and all the best lances of France, whohave sworn to shed their heart's blood ere this Pedro come againto the throne."

"Yet our own army is a great one," said Alleyne.

"Nay, there are but seven-and-twenty thousand men. Chandos hathpersuaded the prince to leave many behind, and indeed I thinkthat he is right, for there is little food and less water inthese parts for which we are bound. A man without his meat or ahorse without his fodder is like a wet bow-string, fit forlittle. But voila, mon petit, here comes Chandos and hiscompany, and there is many a pensil and banderole among yondersquadrons which show that the best blood of England is ridingunder his banners."

Whilst Aylward had been speaking, a strong column of archers haddefiled through the pass beneath them. They were followed by abanner-bearer who held high the scarlet wedge upon a silver fieldwhich proclaimed the presence of the famous warrior. He rodehimself within a spear's-length of his standard, clad from neckto foot in steel, but draped in the long linen gown or parementwhich was destined to be the cause of his death. His plumedhelmet was carried behind him by his body-squire, and his headwas covered by a small purple cap, from under which his snow-white hair curled downwards to his shoulders. With his longbeak-like nose and his single gleaming eye, which shone brightlyfrom under a thick tuft of grizzled brow, he seemed to Alleyne tohave something of the look of some fierce old bird of prey. Fora moment he smiled, as his eye lit upon the banner of the fiveroses waving from the hamlet; but his course lay for Pampeluna,and he rode on after the archers.

Close at his heels came sixteen squires, all chosen from thehighest families, and behind them rode twelve hundred Englishknights, with gleam of steel and tossing of plumes, their harnessjingling, their long straight swords clanking against theirstirrup-irons, and the beat of their chargers' hoofs like the lowdeep roar of the sea upon the shore. Behind them marched sixhundred Cheshire and Lancashire archers, bearing the badge of theAudleys, followed by the famous Lord Audley himself, with thefour valiant squires, Dutton of Dutton, Delves of Doddington,Fowlehurst of Crewe, and Hawkstone of Wainehill, who had all wonsuch glory at Poictiers. Two hundred heavily-armed cavalry rodebehind the Audley standard, while close at their heels came theDuke of Lancaster with a glittering train, heralds tabarded withthe royal arms riding three deep upon cream-colored chargers infront of him. On either side of the young prince rode the twoseneschals of Aquitaine, Sir Guiscard d'Angle and Sir StephenCossington, the one bearing the banner of the province and theother that of Saint George. Away behind him as far as eye couldreach rolled the far-stretching, unbroken river of steel-rankafter rank and column after column, with waving of plumes,glitter of arms, tossing of guidons, and flash and flutter ofcountless armorial devices. All day Alleyne looked down upon thechanging scene, and all day the old bowman stood by his elbow,pointing out the crests of famous warriors and the arms of noblehouses. Here were the gold mullets of the Pakingtons, the sableand ermine of the Mackworths, the scarlet bars of the Wakes, thegold and blue of the Grosvenors, the cinque-foils of theCliftons, the annulets of the Musgraves, the silver pinions ofthe Beauchamps, the crosses of the Molineux the bloody chevron ofthe Woodhouses, the red and silver of the Worsleys, the swords ofthe Clarks, the boars'-heads of the Lucies, the crescents of theBoyntons, and the wolf and dagger of the Lipscombs. So throughthe sunny winter day the chivalry of England poured down throughthe dark pass of Roncesvalles to the plains of Spain.

It was on a Monday that the Duke of Lancaster's division passedsafely through the Pyrenees. On the Tuesday there was a bitterfrost, and the ground rung like iron beneath the feet of thehorses; yet ere evening the prince himself, with the main battleof his army, had passed the gorge and united with his vanguard atPampeluna. With him rode the King of Majorca, the hostage Kingof Navarre, and the fierce Don Pedro of Spain, whose pale blueeyes gleamed with a sinister light as they rested once more uponthe distant peaks of the land which had disowned him. Under theroyal banners rode many a bold Gascon baron and many a hot-blooded islander. Here were the high stewards of Aquitaine, ofSaintonge, of La Rochelle, of Quercy, of Limousin, of Agenois, ofPoitou, and of Bigorre, with the banners and musters of theirprovinces. Here also were the valiant Earl of Angus, Sir ThomasBanaster with his garter over his greave, Sir Nele Loring, secondcousin to Sir Nigel, and a long column of Welsh footmen whomarched under the red banner of Merlin. From dawn to sundown thelong train wound through the pass, their breath reeking up uponthe frosty air like the steam from a cauldron.

The weather was less keen upon the Wednesday, and the rear-guardmade good their passage, with the bombards and the wagon-train.Free companions and Gascons made up this portion of the army tothe number of ten thousand men. The fierce Sir Hugh Calverley,with his yellow mane, and the rugged Sir Robert Knolles, withtheir war-hardened and veteran companies of English bowmen,headed the long column; while behind them came the turbulentbands of the Bastard of Breteuil Nandon de Bagerant, one-eyedCamus, Black Ortingo, La Nuit and others whose very names seem tosmack of hard hands and ruthless deeds. With them also were thepick of the Gascon chivalry--the old Duc d'Armagnac, his nephewLord d'Albret, brooding and scowling over his wrongs, the giantOliver de Clisson, the Captal de Buch, pink of knighthood, thesprightly Sir Perducas d'Albert, the red-bearded Lord d'Esparre,and a long train of needy and grasping border nobles, with longpedigrees and short purses, who had come down from their hill-side strongholds, all hungering for the spoils and the ransoms ofSpain. By the Thursday morning the whole army was encamped inthe Vale of Pampeluna, and the prince had called his council tomeet him in the old palace of the ancient city of Navarre.