For The White Christ Part 64

"Withhold your fury, lair-mate," said the woman; and even Olvir shuddered to hear her mocking laughter.

The Grey Wolf glared at his scoffing wife; but she threw back her cloak, and withstood his look with the cold glitter of her sunken eyes. The menacing light died out of the count's green eyes. He cast a crafty glance about the hall, and said sullenly: "Take joy of your deed, wife!

My heart is now cold and hard like the flint-rock. I listen."

"Listen, then, childless man! Shall I tell more of that maiden who was fated to wed the grey-eyed king? The little birds have twittered many tales in my ears. But no; our host shall speak again. He fared to Paderborn when Karl held the a.s.sembly of his lordlings,--wretched mockery of the day when the free folk of the s.h.i.+res gathered together under the holy oaks, to make and unmake their own laws. The red boar has come from the king's hall, and now I know that neither yourself nor the Dane hawk will scoff at his tidings."

"The lie is most subtle which is mingled with truth," said Olvir.

Hardrat rose to face the Northman with a heavy frown. "Enough of jeering, Dane," he said. "I do not ask yourself or Count Rudulf to believe what I say of the king's ill-will toward you both. That you will know shortly, when Worad comes faring to the Sorb Mark. It will be joyous for the Grey Wolf when he sees the Wend king's daughter trampled in the mire; joyous for the Dane hawk when, fleeing down Rhine Stream, he hears the wedding bell of Worad and the king's daughter."

"Beware!" lisped Olvir, softly, and his face went white.

The Thuringian turned quickly to his fellow-plotters.

"Listen to me, heroes of the forest land!" he called. "If those who sit beside me are men, I have said enough to rouse them. We will talk now of that which concerns all,--of how the fierce werwolf at the side of Pepin's son has hardened his heart to fire and slaughter, has inflamed his wrath against all free-minded men. He turns from those who uphold his throne; he dooms without cause the faithful counts. Men say he is great,--that none may withstand him. The bear is king of beasts; yet I have seen him baited by the hounds. We shall not stand alone. How is minded the n.o.ble Lombard Adelchis, whose father, Desiderius, shorn and uncrowned, lies cooped among the meek brothers at Corbie, praying for vengeance? Ask the heart's wish of Ta.s.silo, Duke of Bavaria, and of his Lombard wife. The haughty Agilofingian has little cause to bless Pepin's son. All goes well! The whole of Italy will welcome the son of Desiderius and his Greek host. Old Barnard grows dull with his fatness.

Count William of Toulouse fares far into Saracen Land, and the fierce King Abd-er-Rahman will keep him busied; while here in the North all the heroes of Thuringia are with us. Then, too, Wittikind--"

"_Hei!_ the Saxon hero waits in Sigfrid's hall, ever ready!" cried the Wend woman. "He will come again with a Dane host. Bid his blood-sprinkled folk take heart! Yet another host shall aid them to strike the cruel Frank. My father's warriors shall ride to join in the baiting of the Frank bear. In Wend Land men have not yet forgotten the daughter of the Snake."

"Never shall Karl return across the Rhine!" cried Hardrat; and he rose to pa.s.s down the hall.

At once the guests shouted their approval: "The pledge! the pledge! Let all taste the red drink of sacrifice!"

Olvir stared at the shouting plotters, and then his gaze fixed on Count Hardrat, returning up the hall with a copper bowl whose rim was streaked with dark red.

"Count of the mark," he asked, a strange smile on his lips, "have you ever heard sung the Lay of Hamdir? It ends somewhat after this fas.h.i.+on:

"'At the hall's gable-end Fell Sorli to earth, But Hamdir lay low At the end of the house.'"

Rudulf made no reply. His slit eyes were fixed in a hungry stare upon the bulky form of his black-bearded bench-mate. The Wend had been drinking steadily of the mead, and the powerful drink was already rising to his head. Drawn by the look of the old count, he turned his bloodshot eyes upon him in an insolent leer.

"Ho, Karl's dog," he jeered; "when the bear is baited, mine shall be his bed-mate; nor shall I trouble your priests."

Rudulf rose up quietly, as one who would address the company. The guests on either side of the table stilled their loud talk, and turned expectantly to the Count of the mark. For a little, he stood silent before them, his bristling face thrust forward, his narrow-lidded eyes blinking. Then, suddenly, he bared his corded arms, and his voice roared through the hall: "Traitors to Karl! thus the Grey Wolf pledges you friends.h.i.+p!"

Swiftly the old wrestler stooped, and his terrible grip closed about the giant Wend. The man had no time to call upon his bull-strength. Caught fast in the fatal hold, he was bent backward; there came a snapping as of a dry twig.--The Grey Wolf loosed his hold of the quivering corpse, to spring at another victim. But his wife stood between, and before he could pa.s.s her, the man had flung himself beneath the table.

Then the hall resounded with wild shouts and the clang of swords torn from their sheaths. The terrified house-slaves fled screaming into the open, or crouched against the wall, as the Thuringians rushed forward to avenge their fellow-plotter. Olvir leaped around beside Rudulf, and thrust him forward.

"To the door! to the door!" he cried.

"I go--for your sake," growled the old count, and his sword circled about his grisly head.

"We go in peace," said the Wend woman. She flung the cloak from her head, and glided, with upraised hand, between her lord and the threatening Thuringians. "Make way, heroes! Bear in mind your pledge to me."

"Stand aside, Wend-wife!" commanded the foremost guest.

"Make way yourself, dog! I see a b.l.o.o.d.y sprite beside you."

The Thuringian flung up his arm to ward off the woman's evil glance.

"That for your boding, witch!" he cried, and she fell to his stabbing sword. The frightened weasels scurried, squeaking, from the cloak of their mistress, to hide beneath the table. Upon the slain witch fell the body of her slayer, struck down by Rudulf.

About the two friends the grey-armored Thuringians closed fast in the doom-ring. Fierce blows rained down,--blade rang upon blade or clashed against war-gear. Within the ring, the two, standing back to back, fought their way steadily toward the door. The Thuringians could not withstand the mad rage of Rudulf's attack or Olvir's cold white fury.

They fell back continually before the counts; but, from side and rear, they thrust and struck as at maddened wolves.

Now and again one of their number fell to Al-hatif's stabs or the fierce downsweep of the Grey Wolf's sword. In turn, their blades beat like flails upon the doomed men. Not even Olvir's triple mail was proof against their blows. Soon blood was seeping through the netted rings.

Only the blue steel of his helmet saved his head from a splitting; Al-hatif was far too light to ward off the heavy longswords. Already Rudulf was bleeding from many gashes; his head was a ma.s.s of wounds.

Still he fought on like a mad beast. He fell at the very threshold of the open door, pierced through by Hardrat's boar-spear.

At the death-cry of the hero, Olvir sprang about, and his sword clipped the point of the thrusting lance. Hardrat shrank back to draw his sword. The Northman leaped through the doorway, calling loudly in Arabic.

Across the courtyard Zora came plunging to meet her master, and her hoof struck down the groom who sought to hold her. Olvir vaulted into the saddle; he bent forward on the mare's neck, and a sharp hiss burst from his lips. Zora leaped away like an arrow. The fierce Thuringians, bursting out from the hall, called upon the grooms to close the gate.

But before the nearest man could act, the red mare and her terrible rider were upon him. He flung himself flat before them, and Zora leaped over the man, out upon the open hillside.

CHAPTER XXI

Black deeds and ill Have they been a-doing, Evil rede Have they wrought at last.

LAY OF SIGURD.

Not from fear of pursuit, but because of that which he bore with him, Olvir urged the red mare to her utmost speed. Never even in her prime had Zora coursed over hill and meadow at a swifter pace. But the way was long, and even her easy, swinging gait was agony to the wounded man.

When at last she leaped into the war-ring on the Saale bank, her red coat was wet with the blood of her rider. He lay upon her neck, clutching at the silky mane, so far gone that, when Floki caught him from the saddle, he could gasp out but a few brief words: "To the little vala! I 've fought my last fight!"

Then darkness fell upon him, and he lay in Floki's arms as one dead.

Deftly the grim vikings stanched the wounds of their earl and applied healing salves.

"It is but blood-loss," said Floki. "In a day, I wager, he calls for his mare. But now we do his bidding. Bring a litter."

So it was that when Olvir awoke from his swoon, he found himself swinging along on the shoulders of four stout litter-bearers, well on the road to Erfurt, the great market of the Thuringians. As Floki had foretold, he at once called for Zora, and rode into Erfurt. There, hearing that Karl had left Saxon Land and was already at Cologne, on his way to Attigny, he turned and rode Rhineward. But though he sat his saddle all the way to Fulda, and gave his followers little rest, when he reached the monastery he was so utterly spent with weariness and pain that he had to lie over a full week before he could push on.

The bluff Northern monks spared themselves no pains to justify their fame for hospitality; but Olvir's thanks, though sincere, were briefly worded, and he had little to say to any one. When, rested and almost healed, he made ready to push on Rhineward, he handed to Abbot Baugulf a gold arm-ring, in kingly payment for his keep, and stood with unbent head while the priest poured out his fervent blessing.

From Fulda, Olvir rode steadily Rhineward on the old Roman highway, though his face spoke of doubt and indecision. But at Mayence he called Floki aside, and said briefly: "I ride alone to King Karl. Take the men down Rhine to Cologne, and make all ready aboard the longs.h.i.+ps. Fit them as for a race, and for the North Sea. I will join you in a few days, and, with Freya's aid, I shall not come alone. Another shall ride with me, whether Karl the King is loath or willing."

"Ho, ring-breaker!" croaked Floki, smiling with crafty triumph. "So we at last fare back to old Norway, and you are minded to take with you a bride. There will be joyous howling when your sea-wolves sight their vala. Yet I am minded of another matter. King Karl owes no small fee for the long service of the hero's son and his ready champions. Though we may leave somewhat hastily, on our path to Cologne stands Ingleheim, the king's new burg, which men say is filled with gold and all manner of loot."

"By Thor!" cried Olvir, his eyes flaming; "were I sure the Frank had broken his pledge, not Ingleheim alone should see sword and torch. As it is, he may yet--Christ grant he keep troth! ... No, old Crane. You must fare your way, with the peace-thongs firm knotted. If the Norns have so woven, Zora will bear me to the Rhine far in the lead of the following Franks; and there's rich loot between Cologne and Rhine Mouth."

"And what if the werwolf snare you? Let me ride with you, earl."

"I ride alone. No horse in Frank Land could bear up your weight in the flight from Attigny to Cologne. Yet again, I need you to hold the men in hand. Do not tell them over-much. They will be nimble enough if they but know it is for the little vala. Farewell."