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Updated: May 27, 2025
He sought to conduct a second Conquest, making war on the English who still held their lands, but sparing the French manors. The King's justice was slow-footed, and the King was far away, so the threatened men, banded together to hold their own by their own might. Aelward brought the news from Galland that the Crane had entered their borders.
Jehan and his band met Aelward at the appointed rendezvous, and soon were joined by a dozen knots of lusty yeomen, who fought not only for themselves but for the law of England and the peace of the new king. Of the little force Jehan was appointed leader, and once again became the Hunter, stalking a baser quarry than wolf or boar.
"What ails you, Frenchman?" said Aelward. "It is but a half-grown girl of my father's begetting." "I have vowed not to pass that bridge till yonder lady bids me." "Then for the pity of Christ bid him, sister. He and I are warm with play and yearn for a flagon." In this manner did Jehan first enter the house of Galland, whence in the next cowslip-time he carried a bride to Highstead.
Aelward moistened his lips. "You have beat me fairly, armed and weaponless," he said, and his voice had no anger in it. "Talk not of beating between neighbours," was the answer. "We have played together and I have had the luck of it. It will be your turn to break my head to-morrow." "Head matters little," grumbled Aelward. "Mine has stood harder dints.
He returned to Highstead unscathed, and a week later came a message from Aelward. "Meet me," it ran, "to-morrow by the Danes' barrow at noon, and we will know whether Englishman or Frenchman is to bear rule in this land." Jehan donned his hauberk and girt himself with his long sword. "There will be hot work to-day in that forest," he told Arn, who was busied with the trussing of his mail.
"God prosper you, master," said the steward. "Frenchman or no, you are such a man as I love. Beware of Aelward and his downward stroke, for he has the strength of ten." At noon by the Danes' barrow Jehan met a young tow-headed giant, who spoke with the back of his throat and made surly-response to the other's greeting.
Tarry a little, dear heart, and the Priest of Glede will be here to shrive you." Through the thicket there crawled a mighty figure, his yellow hair dabbled in blood, and his breath labouring like wind in a threshing-floor. He lay down by Jehan's side, and with a last effort kissed him on the lips. "Priest!" cried the dying Aelward.
Jehan tossed his own blade to the ground, and stripped off his hauberk. "We have fought with weapons," he said, "now we will fight in the ancient way." There followed a very different contest. Aelward lost his shamefastness and his slow blood fired as flesh met flesh and sinew strained against sinew.
His son, dark like his father, who made his first diffident pilgrimages in the sunny close where the pigeons cooed, was not more thirled to English soil. They were quiet years in that remote place, for Aelward over at Galland had made his peace with the King. But when the little Jehan was four years old the tides of war lapped again to the forest edges.
My brother Aelward will do the parleying." "So be it," he said. "Be assured I will never cross this water into Galland till you bid me." He turned and rode home, and for a month was busied with the work of his farms. When he came again it was on a dark day in November, and every runnel of the fens was swollen.
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