"
CHAPTER X
THE KING'S CHAMPION
Back over that fearful field, whereof the silence was broken only by
the groans of the wounded and the dying, walked Hugh and Grey Dick. They
came to the great rampart of dead men and horses that surrounded the
English line, and climbed it as though it were a wall. On the further
side bonfires had been lit to lighten the darkness, and by the flare
of them they saw Edward of England embracing and blessing his son, the
Black Prince, who, unhelmeted, bowed low before him in his bloodstained
mail.
"Who were they besides, Sir Robert Fitzsimmon and Richard de Beaumont
who helped you when you were down, my son?" asked the King.
The Prince looked about him.
"I know not, Sire. Many, but here is one of them," and he pointed to
Hugh, who just then appeared within the circle of the firelight. "I
think that he slew the Count Louis of Flanders."
"Ah!" said the King, "our young merchant of Dunwich--a gallant man.
Kneel you down, merchant of Dunwich."
Hugh knelt, and the King, taking the red sword from his hand, struck him
with it on the shoulder, saying:
"Rise, Sir Hugh de Cressi, for now I give you that boon which your
deathfaced servant asked before the battle. You have served us, or
rather England well, both of you. But whose armour is that the archer
carries, Sir Hugh?"
"Sir Edmund Acour's, lord de Noyon, Sire, only, alack! another man was
within the armour.
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