H. C. Bailey

“ Who is your saint, son Henry?"
"The red deer. I go to hunt in Guildford chase, fool."
Bran rolled his eyes. "Yea, yea. And the old men have other game. But tell poor Bran. What ails the deer of Windsor, child?"
"They are too tame for me. They show no sport."
"Yea, yea, the beast you know not is better than the beast you know. Do you know me, child? Na, na, youth seeks ever a foe and a friend, age it runs from both in the end." ”

“ Good father Bran, a priest is often a fool, but who would have a fool play priest?"
"Bran is no priest in head nor heart, not fast but feast gives Bran his part. I would have you blithe and gay, but look you, child, you miss the way. God have mercy, what would they make of you, this rabble of de Clare's? Your father's enemy."
The young King started up. "Good words, fool! I am my own man." ”

“ It was only an hour's ride from the castle, the one good thing of that stay at Guildford. On a day as he made out of the forest to the old road he came upon a huge fellow who let his horse go as it would and chanted jovially a French hunting song. "God save you, brother fool," he called out.
"And bring you peace, Richard my son."
"Death of my life, it is old Bran!" He ranged alongside and threw a heavy arm round Bran's body and came near to hugging him out of the saddle. "And how goes my pretty brother, wise man?"
"The sun shines all day for him, child. And whence comes brother Richard? " ”

“ My lord made his bow, and then the King nodded Bran away and was forward to please him.
In the chimney corner Bran sat by himself and talked to himself. "Yea, yea, a kind heart are you, Henry my son, but in the head you are naught and for a King, God help you. Fie, how he fawns on the old robber! Your father never feared the face of man, child, nay, not when he was landless and friendless. And you who have the power that he made for you, you cringe. There is base blood in you though his son you be. God have mercy, boy. What is de Clare that you should seek his favour? ”

“ We remember. But men are not hungry now. Men are not naked. They will not long kill. We live in the heath till their hate grows cool."
"It is well said, brother. Peace to the little people."
"Peace, brother, peace."
On his way back Bran sang the Benedicite: "All ye works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord"; and he came to the castle again about the time that young Henry was lurching to bed. "God save you, brother fool," he steadied himself by Bran's shoulder, "a sad, sober fool are you. ”

“ He sat himself down and still sang. Then he broke off suddenly to say, "I am of the earth, brother," though he saw no one. "From the chalk of the hills I come."
The heath rustled about him. "From the black land of the river, I," a voice said, but still he saw no one. "Come, brother. My ring is near. We have honey and curds and spring water." ”

“ Proud he is, yea, proud as Lucifer, and a good gaunt shape of a man and he looks down on you and you are humbled. Why, he is naught but a robber chief, and for all his lauds and his knights your father would have broken him between bed and breakfast at need. ”