address himself to the captive maiden. He was silent and gloomy. He had
observed with great wrath a repressed smile on the Drost's countenance;
and the huntsmen who followed them laughed, and whispered together in a
manner which too plainly indicated that Sir Palle and his unfortunate
love adventure were the subject of their ridicule. The two younger
huntsmen were strongly, attached to Aage; they had remarked how little
acceptable Sir Palle's company was to him; and they now, as if to
beguile the time, began to hum the well-known ballad of the brave
knight Helmer Blaa. In one of the many scenes of violence which were
the consequences of the proscription of the outlawed regicides, Helmer
Blaa had slain Sir Palle's uncle. On this account he had for a long
time been barbarously persecuted by Sir Palle and his six brothers,
until he at last vanquished all the six in honourable self-defence, and
compelled Palle to give him his sister in marriage, who, before this
feud, had been betrothed to the gallant knight. This occurrence (so
derogatory to Sir Palle's reputation) had attracted general attention,
and almost every young fellow in the country could repeat a ballad in
honour of the bold Helmer Blaa, who had not only been acquitted by the
king and whole body of knighthood, but stood also high in favour with
Eric. The burden of the song,--
"In the saddle he rides so free,"
fell on Sir Palle's ear.
He looked back towards the huntsmen, with a face glowing with rage, but
they appeared not to notice it; and one of them sang aloud,--
"Better I cannot counsel thee,
That thou tarry not, but hence should'st flee,
In the saddle he rides so free."
"Your huntsmen, Sir Drost, would drive me hence with vile songs, I
perceive," said Sir Palle, turning to Aage. "Is it you, or yonder
pretty maiden, who have inspired them with this pleasant conceit?"
"You are perhaps not a lover of song, Sir Palle?" answered Aage; "that
is unfortunate: the merry fellows wish to beguile the time for us on
the road."
"If I hear aright," growled Palle, "that song may perhaps shorten the
road to heaven for both of them if it is not presently ended."
"Think you so?" answered Aage carelessly. "If you will give us your
company you must reconcile yourself to our merriment. Haste to sing the
song to the end," he called to the huntsmen, "or Sir Palle will be
wroth;" and the huntsmen sang gaily,--
"In the town my true love shall ne'er hear it said
That I before her brothers have fled.
"Full boldly rode Helmer her brothers to meet,
His courage was equal to every feat.
"First Ove, then Lang, his eye did survey,
And then did his sword come quick into play."
"S'death!" shouted Sir Palle, and his sword flew from the scabbard. "If
ye _will_ have the sword come into play, you shall feel it too." So
saying, he turned his horse, and rushed like a madman upon the
huntsmen, who had not time to prepare for defence, ere his sword had
cut through their jerkins, and inflicted one or two wounds. But the
huntsmen, enraged at this sudden onset, drew their long hunting-knives,
and threatened a bloody revenge. Ulrica shrieked on hearing the affray,
and the elder sister turned pale. "Stop, knaves!" cried Aage, riding in
between Palle and his antagonists: "two against one is not fair play. I
will decide this matter alone with Sir Palle." The Drost had drawn his
sword, and was expecting his opponent to turn towards him, but Sir
Palle's horse seemed to have become suddenly skittish and unruly: it
galloped off, on the road to Esrom, with its enraged master, whose
spurs stuck in its sides, while he swore and brandished his sword over
his head. The huntsmen laughed loudly at this sight. Ulrica joined in
the laugh; and as soon as the slight wounds of the huntsmen had been
bound up, the party pursued their journey, though in a different
direction from that in which they had set out.
"I must have been mistaken," said Drost Aage to the huntsmen. "It could
hardly have been to Kallundborg, but rather to Vordingborg, that the
king commanded me to accompany these ladies; there he, and not Prince
Christopher, is ruler. If there was other meaning in his words, I will
be answerable for it." As they turned into a bye road, a tall man in a
peasant's dress, mounted on a small peasant's horse, without a saddle,
started out of the thicket by the road side, and suddenly disappeared
again among the bushes. "Kagge!" exclaimed Ulrica, with involuntary
delight, and seized her sister's arm. Margaretha gave her a significant
look, and she was silent, but often gazed restlessly around.
Drost Aage had heard the exclamation, and started. The name of Kagge
was but too familiar to him. A squire of noble birth of this name had
been among Eric Glipping's murderers at Finnerup; he had fled with the
other outlaws to Norway, and was prohibited, on pain of death, from
setting foot on Danish ground; had he, notwithstanding, been in the
train of the captive maidens, their connection with so dangerous a
traitor might operate greatly against them. This incident obliged the
Drost to be on the watch over the security of his captives. Silent and
anxious he pursued the journey.
CHAP. V.
Prince Christopher and his train meanwhile pursued their way to
Sjoeborg. They rode at a slow pace, to suit the convenience of the
foreign prelate. The mysterious importance which Cardinal Isarnus knew
how to assume as the pope's legate, and the reserve with which he
evaded every close question, had worked up the prince to a pitch of
anxious expectation, which he vainly endeavoured to hide. Isarnus
appeared with a splendour corresponding to his high rank as a dignitary
of the church; his richly attired attendants followed him at a
respectful distance, together with his famulus and secretary; near him
rode the Abbot of Esrom and two foreign ecclesiastics. Isarnus
conversed with his countrymen and with the abbot by turns, in the
Italian and Latin tongue: his converse with the prince and the margrave
was short and abrupt, and carried on in almost unintelligible German.
He appeared, indeed, to avail himself of the want of a common language,
by leaving every query unanswered to which he considered it might be
impolitic to reply. In important negociations he made use of his
famulus as an interpreter. Wherever this powerful prelate appeared in
the country, he was the object of superstitious awe. The unusual
spectacle of the cardinal's red hat worked upon the imagination of the
people like the appearance of a comet, and was considered to be as
ominous of evil, as that dreaded phenomenon of the heavens. Some of the
most ignorant among the lower orders even believed it was the pope
himself who had arrived in Denmark to dethrone the king and
excommunicate the kingdom; and it was not alone from reverence, but as
much from fear, that the wonder-stricken peasants and old women
especially, knelt down whenever they encountered the cardinal. His
long, sallow, and imperturbable visage, with its expression of cool
menace, and foreign aspect, combined with the preconceived notion of a
supernatural and mysterious power, seemed endowed with the petrifying
influence of Medusa's head.
"Dear Sir Pope! harm us not!" frequently whimpered forth the sick and
crippled who knelt in his path. He understood them not, and no word
proceeded from his thin compressed lips, but he extended his arm, with
a cold unchanging mien, and with his three fingers, which sparkled with
costly rings, signed over their uncovered heads the silent token of a
blessing, which they feared would soon be changed into a curse, for the
threats with which he had last left the king and the country, were
generally made known through the fears of the clergy themselves, and
their zealous exhortations to repentance.
Accompanied by this ecclesiastical scarecrow. Prince Christopher now
approached Sjoeborg. After several fruitless attempts to gain the
confidence of the mysterious legate, the prince withdrew, leaving his
place by the cardinal's side to the Abbot of Esrom and the other
ecclesiastics, who conversed with him, in Latin, upon philosophical and
theological subjects. The bold and joyous margrave rode by the side of
Sir Helmer Blaa, and talked eagerly of campaigns and tournaments. The
prince allowed them to pass him, and remained alone behind with the
Swedish statesman, Drost Bruncke, to whom he appeared desirous of
communicating something of importance ere they reached Sjoeborg.
"You will now probably delay your homeward journey, Sir Drost!" said
the prince, in a confidential tone. "That which yon mysterious guest
brings with him may prove as important to your sovereign and to the
Swedish council as to us."
"Perhaps it may alter the state of things here rather more than your
royal house would wish," answered Bruncke, ambiguously; "what else can
your highness mean?"
"Yonder red cloud is doubtless charged with holy lightnings," continued
the prince, pointing to the cardinal, whose red hat flared through the
trees in the moonlight. "If my stiff-necked brother does not now give
in, misfortune stands at his door; such is ever the result of all half
measures. An important state prisoner should be either timely buried,
or else let loose. Was not that your opinion also, Sir Drost?"
"It is often the wisest policy," answered Bruncke. "The dead _cannot_
tell tales; and the generous, once restored to freedom, _will not_."
"You know the individual I allude to," continued the prince; "he will
now either be let loose, and become perhaps more dangerous than ever,
or the storm will burst which he hath conjured over us hither from
Rome. He was as good as buried--that was my doing, but I got sorry
thanks for it. Out of mistimed compassion he was brought up once more
from the grave;--to spare a sick priest, they had the folly to let
loose the bishop's understrapper, so that he was able to flee, and stir
up heaven and earth to work our ruin. I then counselled a timely
reconciliation; but when sternness should have been used they were weak
and mild, and when reconciliation became the wisest policy they were
stern and pertinacious. My counsel was never heeded; hate and disfavour
were my thanks. The people will now have their eyes opened, and perhaps
your young king also, provided he will be guided by his wisest
counsellor."
"Very possibly, noble prince!" answered Bruncke, with a crafty smile;
"but as yet I see not the danger, and even were I so fortunate as to
perceive it, and to understand you, so long as Thorkild Knudson is at
the head of state affairs, and in such high honour and favour"--he
paused, and shrugged his shoulders.
"He rises but to fall," continued the prince, "should he even win my
brother's favour also. By his friendship with your dangerous dukes, and
the high alliance which is spoken of, he is sealing his own doom."
"That is very possible, your highness," answered Bruncke, with a
malicious smile; "his vaunted wisdom is not infallible; with time
cometh experience. Were but your royal brother only not so ardent a
lover, and our fair princess somewhat less devoted to him"--
"Childish fancies!" interrupted the prince. "State policy alone, not
childish folly, should counsel here. Your young king hastes not
so with his marriage, and therein he acts wisely. Between ourselves,
Bruncke,"--here he whispered confidentially, while he nearly drew
bridle,--"my sister Merete is little suited to your king, but his
soft-hearted sister is still less so to my brother. This double
alliance will be ruinous for both kingdoms. You may easily come to
share our unhappy position with regard to the papal see; and if enmity
breaks out betwixt your king and his ambitious brother, there is no
doubt against whom Princess Ingeborg, as queen, will arm Denmark and my
enamoured brother. That she holds the haughty warlike duke, Eric, far
dearer than his crowned brother, you know yourself much better than I."
"Truly, I cannot but admire your highness's policy," replied Bruncke,
in a fawning tone, while his wily glance seemed to penetrate the
prince's most secret thoughts. "You are as wise as generous; prizing
Denmark and Sweden's happiness higher than your own sister's and
brother's domestic felicity! Here I recognise the lofty, princely
spirit, which soars above the petty interests of private life. But, to
speak truly, I see not how this double alliance can be prevented or
broken off, without a breach of peace, while your royal brother sways
here, and follows nought but his own inclinations."
"We must have time, Bruncke" whispered the prince; "the guest we bring
him to-night will soon change the aspect of affairs in Denmark. I
shudder myself to think of what may happen, but things cannot remain as
they are; your young king will always need a wise counsellor, who can
rule people and kingdom in his name. For this office no one is so fit
as yourself. Set your head to work, sage Bruncke; if it should be
endangered, you may count on me."
"Let us reserve these matters for your private chamber, noble prince,"
whispered Bruncke, looking cautiously around. "Woods have ears, and
plains have eyes, they say. It were, perhaps, good policy that I should
henceforth be apparently somewhat out of favour with your highness."
"Right, Bruncke; contradict me tomorrow at table, in the king's
hearing, and I will reply in a manner which you must only _feign_ to
take amiss."
"Every ungracious word spoken to me by your highness in public, I shall
take to be a proof of your secret favour. All that I can promise you,"
he added in a whisper, raising his hand so as to screen his face on the
other side, "is the delay of both marriages as long as possible; as to
what concerns me personally, I depend upon your princely word."
"I give you my hand upon it, sage Bruncke" answered the prince,
extending to him his hand. "Now let us be off; the cardinal hath
reached the lake already."
They spurred their horses, and overtook the rest of their party by the
shore of the lake, where a floating bridge had been contrived for the
convenience of this unusual throng of passengers. While they halted
here, Sir Palle returned at full gallop, and told the prince, almost
panting for breath, that he had been murderously attacked by Drost Aage
and both his huntsmen at once.
"Indeed, I am glad of it," answered the prince, in a tone of
satisfaction. "The Drost shall dearly rue such unchivalrous conduct.
You can of course swear to what you say, Palle! else no one will credit
it."
"Swear to it!" repeated Palle, with glowing cheeks, and endeavouring to
hide his confusion; "those who will not believe me, by my troth may let
it alone; ungodly oaths I have forsworn."
"Then the devil take your chatter," muttered the prince, in displeasure,
and turned from him.
CHAP. VI.
On his return to Sjoeborg Castle, King Eric had shut himself up in his
private chamber, engrossed in serious reflections on the imminent peril
he had just escaped; it seemed to him as if St. Cecilia's eve was
destined to bring with it misfortune and danger to him and to his race.
This was the second time he had encountered traitors and robbers in the
neighbourhood of Sjoeborg. The conviction, however, that he possessed
the love and devotion of his subjects, soon dissipated the young king's
gloomy mood. He had summoned the Swedish Marsk, Thorkild Knudson, to a
private audience, and now conversed calmly and frankly with this noble
knight on the happy alliance between Denmark and Sweden, which at the
present time was the chief subject of the king's thoughts, and in which
his heart so ardently shared.
Thorkild Knudson was a handsome man, of a thoughtful and dignified
aspect, rather more than forty years of age; his dark hair seemed to
have grown untimely grey. His powerful influence as regent had gained
him a high reputation, as well in his own country as in foreign courts.
An honest aspiration after power and rank was manifest in his fiery
glance, and the noble commanding expression of his countenance bespoke
a dauntless confidence in his own powers, and a species of proud
contempt for all the petty arts by which less highly gifted statesmen
often seek to supply the want of sound political wisdom. As he sat
opposite the young king, attired in his blue knight's dress, with the
large chain of the order around his neck, and conversed with him, with
freedom and sympathy, he might have been taken for a fatherly friend or
relative of King Eric, had he not, by strict observance of the respect
due to Eric's exalted station, but without a tinge of flattery, known
how to receive the confidence reposed in him by royalty with an
appearance of homage which detracted not from his own dignity as the
ambassador of a foreign monarch.
Although Thorkild Knudson, as Swedish regent, was authorized on the
part of King Birger and the state council to accede to the king's
desire of having the celebration of his marriage fixed for the ensuing
spring, yet it was only on the condition that the pope's dispensation
should be obtained before that time. But because of the vehemence with
which the king always rejected the idea of every obstacle, Thorkild
Knudson had hitherto propounded this condition in as mild terms as
possible. He now touched upon it again, and took the opportunity of
bringing the case of the captive archbishop to Eric's remembrance.
The colour mounted to the young king's cheek; he became suddenly
silent, and a secret struggle seemed passing within his breast. He
looked around him once or twice, as if he missed some one; at last,
however, his eye rested with evident pleasure and satisfaction on
Thorkild's intelligent and noble countenance. "I esteem my future
brother-in-law fortunate," he said, "in possessing a man like you for
his friend and counsellor. You are now to him what my aged counsellor
Jon and my well-beloved Drost Hessel have been to me from my childhood
upwards. The misunderstanding with the papal court has long deprived me
of my best and most experienced counsellors. My faithful Drost Aage is
not older and more experienced than myself. I feel confidence in you,
Sir Thorkild. Were I your liege and sovereign, what would you counsel
me in this weighty matter?"
"To see the prisoner, and hear his defence--_dispassionately_, noble
King Eric," answered the Swedish statesman. "As far as I know, he hath
not only _done_ wrong, but _suffered_ wrong; for a long and severe
imprisonment is a suffering and punishment, which can only be called
just, when it is inflicted according to a lawfully pronounced
sentence."
"Was it then unjust in me to imprison a state criminal, who was an
accomplice in the murder of my father--an accursed regicide?" said
Eric, with vehemence, and rising from his seat. "Should I have given
him time to escape, or stir up the people against me, because he was
not condemned by the pope and the bishops? Can I acknowledge
ecclesiastical law when it would acquit a rebel and regicide?"
"It was perhaps necessary for your grace to hinder his flight and
treasonable designs," answered Thorkild Knudson, who had risen from his
seat at the same time with the king, "were it not possible previously
to obtain papal authority for the step; but, by your grace's leave, as
your counsellor, I would have freely and openly pronounced all
unnecessary severity to be as dangerous as unjust."
"With my knowledge he hath suffered no injustice," answered the king.
"The manner of his seizure I highly disapproved; and I have declared
what took place then in my minority to have been contrary to my wish.
My brave Drost Torstenson I have dismissed. In him I have lost a
faithful, but too zealous and rash a friend. My own brother I severely
reprimanded. For the sake of a state criminal, I have exposed myself to
unpleasant differences in my own family, which wound me deeply, and may
perhaps prove dangerous to state and kingdom. What more can reasonably
be asked of me?"
"Noble sovereign," resumed Thorkild Knudson, with earnestness; "you
vouchsafe to show me a confidence which I highly prize. At the present
moment I am, thanks to the Lord, able to reciprocate it with honest
frankness. I trust a double relationship will unite you, and my liege
and sovereign in a lasting union; but I will not abuse your confidence.
I would not have your grace confide aught to me which you might regret
I should know, if at any time, which God forbid! my fidelity to my king
and my native land should compel me to seem your and Denmark's foe.
Even in such a position I would esteem and admire your noble spirit,
and I know you would not misjudge me."
"No, Sir Thorkild," answered the king, extending to him his hand; "even
were you forced to-morrow, as a loyal Swedish statesman, to become my
adversary, I should not misjudge your heart and chivalrous spirit. I
value your esteem--answer me freely! think ye I have acted unjustly in
this matter?"
"Well then, King Eric," said Thorkild, "allow my answer to be a
question to which you can best reply yourself. Had counsellor Jon, and
Drost Hessel been with you at this time, think you, you would have so
long delayed the advances towards a reconciliation, which I cannot but
conjecture was the main object of your prolonged sojourn here?"
"It is not for me, but for the captive criminal, to take the first step
towards reconciliation," answered the king; "but I am now weary myself
of this procrastination. Here lies a proposal for a reconciliation
which I have caused the Drost to draw up. I will see the prisoner
to-morrow."
"Why not this very evening, noble sovereign?" said Thorkild. "If you
incline to reconciliation, it was perhaps in a fortunate moment you
permitted me to become your counsellor. The accomplishment of your own
heartfelt desire is probably more closely connected with this
negociation than you imagine."
"Well, I will see him this evening--this very hour," said the king,
pulling the bell string. An attendant entered. "Tell the steward, the
captive archbishop is to be brought hither." The attendant bowed, and
departed. The king threw himself into a chair, and fell into a reverie.
Thorkild Knudson seemed preparing to take his leave.
"No, stay, I entreat you," said the king, and then paused for a few
moments. "On this night was my father murdered," he resumed in a
tremulous voice; "the man who is about to appear before me was the
chief counsellor of the murderers. You shall be present, and see that I
am neither revengeful nor unjust; but you shall also see, that even to
promote my highest happiness I am incapable of forgetting for a moment,
that which I owe to the crown I wear. Read! Only on these conditions
will he be released." So saying, he reached Thorkild a written sheet of
parchment which lay on the table. Thorkild perused it slowly, and the
king watched his countenance as he read. "Well, is it not so?" said
Eric eagerly. "I demand only what is just and reasonable--safety for
crown and country--peace with the church--obedience to the laws of the
land, so long as he is my subject. I will not pass sentence in my own
cause--as a traitor to the crown, he must be condemned by the pope."
"I must own your grace's demands are more moderate than I should have
supposed. If you are perfectly correct in the charge you prefer against
him, I should still call these terms generous; and yet I doubt whether
he will accept them. The parting with Hammerhuus----"
"He _shall_ give up that castle," interrupted the king; "a rebel and
traitor shall own no fortress in my kingdom. Were he even seated in St.
Peter's chair, _here_ he is my subject."
"Undoubtedly; and he may perhaps make that sacrifice for his freedom;
but the seventh clause--pardon me, your grace, for saying that it seems
to me to be in opposition to his duty to the church and to the Holy
Father. Until he is deposed by a papal bull, no one can hinder him from
using the church's power against whomsoever he will, without asking
leave of the king or of any temporal authority."
"He shall be forced to do so!" exclaimed Eric, with vehemence. "While I
am king, no miscreant shall persecute me or my subjects with unjust
excommunication and all the plagues of hell. I am placed here by the
Lord Almighty to protect my people and their liberties, and not all the
bishops in the world shall rob me of this right. I will answer for what
I do before the Lord above as well as before my subjects, and before
every true and loyal knight!" So saying, the king again pulled the bell
with vehemence. Another attendant entered.