For The White Christ Part 34

answered the Thuringian, hurriedly. "Since Count Gerold left, the men of Duke Ta.s.silo's levy have marched at random. Among them is a warrior who fought beside me at Pavia--"

"A small favor," replied Karl, carelessly. "You wish to command the Bavarians. If that is all--"

"I take heart to ask a greater favor, sire. Since your Majesty put me over the Austrasians, my command has not led the host. I have swung sword for your Majesty in more than one hard fight."

"Your service is not forgotten. If such is your wish, you shall lead the host back across the mountains."

Hardrat bowed, but stood hesitating.

"What more?" asked Karl. "What other favor can I grant my bold hero?"

"None other to me, sire, but one to a maiden. The daughter of Rudulf wishes to be among the first to look out upon the northern slopes."

"There is nothing to hinder. The maiden shall have her wish."

"I thank your Majesty doubly," said the Thuringian, and he withdrew hastily, as though he feared that the king might recall the lightly spoken favors.

"A gruff man, but trusty," muttered Karl to Anselm, the Count Palatine, who stood by his seat. "For all his drunkenness, there are few bolder than my forest hero."

"That may well be, sire," rejoined Anselm, dryly. He was about to add more, when Roland and Olvir came racing down the valley through the twilight, Olvir mounted on a black Arab courser, the gift of his sword-brother. The hoofs of the horses ploughed up the turf before the king as the riders drew rein. Roland leaped off at once.

"Tidings, sire!" he cried. "I bring tidings, both good and bad. A messenger has come through the pa.s.s; he follows with the written word."

"Speak your tidings,--the ill first. The good may sweeten the bitter."

"This, then, sire: The Saxon wolves harry the Rhine bank from Cologne to the Moselle,--Wittikind and his wild followers. No burg or host has checked their advance across the country of the Hessians. It is feared that Fulda may already lie in ashes. The heathen ravage with fire and sword, slaughtering all, even to the women and babes."

Those nearest the king heard the grinding of his teeth, and caught the flash of his eye through the gloom. Yet he spoke in a calm voice: "Truly, you bear bitter tidings! Give us now the sweet."

"In a word, sire, the queen is safe past her time. Two strong-limbed king's sons await your Majesty at Ca.s.seneuil."

"And will wait long!" whispered Hardrat in the ear of Fastrada. The girl clutched his sleeve.

"Hark to the king's answer!" she hissed.

But there was no need to strain the ear. Through the gathering night the king's voice rang out, clear and joyful: "Ho, my liegemen, here is honey to sweeten the sour wine! We shall taste of both. We will not linger in the morning for the plodding oxen to overtake us. The sooner the host crosses the pa.s.s, the quicker the wains can follow. Hardrat, with the Austrasians and Bavarians, will march an hour before dawn.

Roland, with the horse, will wait as foreguard for the treasure and baggage."

"With Roland before and Steward Eggihard in the rear, sire, the treasure could not well be safer," observed Abbot Fulrad.

"There is no question of danger. It is speed we should bear in mind,"

said Karl.

"Then they must sharpen the goads, sire," remarked Roland. "The host will be lolling about camp in the Nive valley even before Eggihard brings his oxen within view of my waiting riders."

"There will be need, sire, to urge on the drovers," said Count Anselm.

"Give me leave to so lend aid."

"A good service, lord judge. Look to it that no pilferers lay hand on goods or gold, to slip away into the forest. Many of the drovers are of Vascon blood. Choose whom you wish to aid in your watch. Who comes?"

"The tidings-bearer, lord king," replied Olvir.

"So. Bring lights."

A dozen courtiers ran to fetch brands from the nearest fire. As they returned, a gnarl-faced Vascon stepped forward in the light of their torches, and knelt to present to the king a sealed parchment. Fulrad took the message, and, at a sign from Karl, broke the seal. But the king turned to the messenger, who had risen and was about to slip away.

"Hold, man," he said. "Where do you come from?"

The Vascon halted, and stood hesitating, as though he but partly understood the question. Then he answered in a harsh voice: "Ca.s.seneuil, Frank king."

"You have rendered good service," said Karl. "Our steward shall see to it that you have fitting reward."

A strange smile pa.s.sed across the Vascon's stolid face, like a flicker of the torchlight, and he turned quietly away into the darkness. Olvir caught the man's look, but then his attention was drawn by Abbot Fulrad.

"Here are three several messages, sire," observed the priest. "The first is from Count Teutoric, who sends word that Rudulf is gone against the Sorbs; that the Saxons are ravaging in the Rhinegau, and that he is marching against them with all speed from the Frisian Mark. Below, in Worad's hand, is word that he and Gerold had met the messenger near Soissones, and would press on with utmost haste to levy warriors and attack the rebels. Last of all, word noted at Ca.s.seneuil, that the queen is safely delivered of twin sons, alike unblemished and vigorous."

"Praised be the Holy Mother!" murmured Karl, and for a while he sat musing, his face aglow with love and tender pride.

The songs of his distant warriors, who were celebrating their last night on the southern slope of the mountains by a wa.s.sail-feast, presently aroused the king. He glanced up at the waiting ring of lords, and signed to Anselm and Abbot Fulrad.

"Come within," he said. "Let wax tapers be brought, and send for my Dane scribe Liutrad."

Roland sprang back into the saddle and rode with Olvir across the valley to where Rothada sat in a ring of torches, surrounded by a little court of the younger courtiers. Liutrad, though by no means willing, ran to do the king's bidding, while the merry companions he left behind fell suddenly silent with the coming of the high-counts. But Rothada welcomed with delight both her kinsman and Olvir, and when the war-famed heroes showed a willingness to lay aside their dignity and join in the games, all was soon merry again with the court of the king's daughter.

CHAPTER XXV

There lay many a man Marr'd by the javelins, Men of the Northland Shot over s.h.i.+eld.

BATTLE OF BRUNANBURH.

Noon found Roland and his hors.e.m.e.n still waiting for the ox-train at the head of the valley. Hours since, the last files of the main host had wound away up the wild gorges of Ibaneta.

From the bank where he was sitting with Olvir, Roland sprang up for the twentieth time, to peer down the valley.

"By my sword, brother," he said, "you 'll soon be wis.h.i.+ng you had gone on with your sea-wolves. By now they are resting over in the Nive valley."

"What odds? Are you not here with me? I might wish for the little vala also; yet this is not unpleasant," replied Olvir; and he called the black Arab courser which Roland had given him, to stroke the beast's starred forehead. But Roland walked to and fro restlessly.

"We cannot pa.s.s the fells in the dark," he said.

"True; yet there is still good time, and--the wains come now!"

"That creaking? One can hear them creak a mile or more."

"Not from where we stand. They 'll soon wheel into view."