The Childhood of King Erik Menved Part 64

As it appeared, they had hoped to prevent all tumult at the proclamation, and had found it impolitic to break with the duke. The inner courts of the castle had, in the meanwhile, by the drost's arrangements, been secretly filled with the remaining portion of the queen's life-horse, which were supposed to have been left on board the s.h.i.+ps. These, the most trusty of the royal troops, had orders to advance and secure the duke, the instant they saw the drawn sword in the drost's hand.

Not far from Count Gerhard and Drost Peter, in a magnificent suit of armour, was the duke, seated on his charger, in the midst of his knights and a considerable body of Sleswick hors.e.m.e.n. His looks, as he surveyed the mult.i.tude, seemed anxious and uneasy, and the dark, earnest countenance of Drost Peter did not appear to please him, any more than did the bold bearing of Count Gerhard.

The people now began to display symptoms of impatience at the long delay; and, with visible discontent, Drost Peter whispered to Count Gerhard--"This is the fault of our good, thoughtful chancellor."

Murmurs and expressions of anger speedily followed.

"How long must we remain here upon our pegs, before we see either wet or dry?" growled a corpulent burgher, who was standing sentry.

"There is good reason for the delay, Faerlil," answered a long-bearded Sleswick horseman: "your king, to be sure, has no need yet to stop to polish his beard; but he must be swaddled and suckled. The queen, too, must be trim and spruce, that your maids and wives may not tempt Drost Hoseol to prove untrue to her."

A boisterous laugh from the hors.e.m.e.n accompanied this coa.r.s.e joke.

"The people are becoming merry--that pleases me well," observed Count Gerhard, who heard the laughter, but not the disgraceful words which created it.

Drost Peter, however, had heard them, and burned with indignation, which he endeavoured to suppress, looking with apparent inattention in the opposite direction; whilst the merriment continued, and was kept up with other expressions of a like nature.

"Peace, fellows, or speak of royalty with greater respect!" exclaimed the duke, with apparent severity, to his people.

"Yes," added one of his knights, "take care, you fellows! The drost's left arm is not to be laughed at. And you, my good man," he observed to the burgher--"you should remember the consequences of grumbling in Skielskioer at a royal proclamation."

"I'faith, that is true, stern sir knight," growled the burgher: "unless we would have our houses again burnt over our heads, we must howl with the wolves, and submit to boy-rule and petticoat government."

"Fie for shame on every Danish man," cried another, "that they should patiently submit to be ruled by a king in slippers and baby-clothes."

"Thou hast a mind to be outlawed before night, my bold fellow,"

observed a tall personage, in a monk's habit. "A good word now-a-days may bring that on a man."

"Know you the news, holy sir?" exclaimed an awkward, heavy ma.s.s-boy to the monk: "Marsk Stig and his friends have to-day been put under the ban of the Church by the Archbishop of Lund."

"The ban--the ban!" was muttered around from one to the other, with increasing discontent.

"They could never be so infatuated," observed a tall man, enveloped in a large blue cloak.

"He begins sharply, this little master," exclaimed a jeering voice close by the side of the last speaker; "and his pinafore must be as wide as a church-door, since he can carry an archbishop in his pocket."

"The apple doesn't fall wide of the tree," remarked the corpulent burgher; whilst his neighbour began humming:--

"And so grows up the little wolf, With sharp teeth in his jaws."

"What else could you expect?" demanded the Sleswick horseman: "all that come of the wolf, howl like the wolf, as they say in our country."

One of the queen's hors.e.m.e.n, who was stationed next to the Sleswicker, had long sat in his saddle as if on glowing coals. "If there be wolves'

cubs amongst us," he now at last broke out, in a broad Jutlandic accent, "they are rather in your troop than ours, my dainty Sleswicker."

"It needs a good dog to smell that out," retorted the other.

"In our country the dogs are as keen as they are true," rejoined the North Jute; "but down by Gottorp they ought to be keen indeed, as the late King Abel, your duke's grandfather, must well know, seeing that three fiery hounds hunt him every night to the infernal regions."

"Whoever says an ill word of my duke or of his race, shall have his neck broken!" exclaimed the Sleswick horseman, drawing his sword.

"And whoever slanders my queen or the drost, shall have his nose and ears cut off!" vociferated the other, already brandis.h.i.+ng his glaive.

As the contention thus grew hot, several joined in it; and although it was strictly forbidden that any one should draw his sword before orders, many weapons were already seen gleaming among the troopers, both of the queen and of the duke.

"Peace, there!" now cried the latter, as, with some uneasiness, he examined the mult.i.tude around him.

"Whoever strikes a blow without his officer's command, is a dead man!"

shouted Drost Peter; and the swords were again sheathed, whilst the noisy quarrel subsided to a murmur.

A cry of "The king! the king!" was now heard, and the most perfect silence instantly pervaded the restless crowd.

At that moment the queen and the young king issued on horseback from the castle-gate, escorted by twelve trabants, and attended by Sir John, Rimaardson, and Chancellor Martin. The ecclesiastic, who was mounted on his palfrey, and wore his Dominican habit, with polished shoes and white heels, looked very pale and apprehensive.

Nearly the entire mult.i.tude instantly greeted the king with a shout of homage, and the quarrel between the troopers was apparently at an end, when a powerful voice, from amidst the crowd, exclaimed--"Long live Marsk Stig and his friends! Down, down with the tyrants!"

The duke looked hastily around him, whilst Drost Peter narrowly watched him, with his left hand on the hilt of his sword.

Although the cheering for the king continued, the shout of "Long live the duke! Long live Waldemar Erikson!" still gained ground: it was repeated by great numbers of the burghers, and by all the Sleswick hors.e.m.e.n; and, as it increased in vehemence and extent, the duke again looked round, lifting his hat, and saluting the a.s.semblage with an air of bravery.

Li this salute Drost Peter perceived a preconcerted signal; for the duke was then cheered on every side, by the same voices that had just raised the seditious cry in favour of Marsk Stig. The drost could no longer retain his indignation. "Down, down with the traitors!" he shouted, as his sword flew from its scabbard, and gleamed in his left hand, whilst, at the same instant, the concealed hors.e.m.e.n, rus.h.i.+ng forward, surrounded the spot.

Duke Waldemar beheld this unexpected movement with astonishment and consternation. "Rebellion! treason!" he exclaimed: "defend your protector, brave Danes! Seize the drost! He is the traitor.--At them!"

shouted he to his hors.e.m.e.n; who, however, before they could, in the general confusion, range themselves in any order of battle, were, with the duke, charged with so much impetuosity by Drost Peter and Count Gerhard, at the head of the queen's hors.e.m.e.n, that they were compelled to seek for safety in a rapid flight; the whole body hastening from the town through a narrow street, which had not yet been blockaded.

"After the duke! Seize the traitor! _He_ is the chief of the regicides!" shouted the drost, as, at the head of the queen's troopers, he pursued the fugitives.

During this uproar, the noise of which was augmented by the cries and clamour of the people, Sir John and Rimaardson, with the chancellor and the twelve trabants, had instantly formed a close circle round the king, and, without awaiting the issue, had hurried with him across the castle-square, and through the excited crowds, down to the fiord.

But the queen had boldly ridden forward amidst her faithful body-guard, and soon found herself at their head, between Count Gerhard and Drost Peter; whilst before them, and without once looking behind, fled the duke and his hors.e.m.e.n, as if panic-struck.

"n.o.ble queen," exclaimed Drost Peter, "here you are exposed to too much danger."

"I think myself safer nowhere than between the brave Count Gerhard and yourself," was her confident reply.

"Shame befall us," cried Count Gerhard; "if we are not now invincible, we never deserve success."

Outside of the town, on Trandrup Field, where Henrik aemeldorf engaged King Christopher, the duke first commanded his troopers to halt; and, availing himself of his start, he wheeled about, and hastily placed his men in order of battle.

The drost, who, with his troop, was rapidly pus.h.i.+ng forward, now heard the wild shout of a.s.sailants behind him, and, on looking round, perceived a large body of mail-clad hors.e.m.e.n in his rear, in the leaders of which he thought he recognised Count Jacob and the two knights who had been outlawed at Nyborg.

"You have ventured too far, most n.o.ble queen!" he exclaimed. "The traitors have out-man[oe]uvred us. Fall into a circle, lads--place the queen in the centre--and you, Count Gerhard, stir not from her side."

"By Beelzebub!" muttered the count, "must I be only a peg in this confounded game of skittles? Stay you here, rather, with your wounded arm, Drost Hessel."

But the drost heard him not, while the queen's troopers immediately obeyed the order of their chief, and formed a circle around their mistress, who, although pale and apprehensive, yet retained her firmness, and closely observed every movement of the enemy; whilst Count Gerhard rode around the circle like a wild beast in a cage.