OF THE GREAT BATTLE THAT WAS FOUGHT, AND OF HOW WULF SAVED THE DAY
Now were Wulf’s anxieties well over; for this great company of riders
and foot-soldiers was none other than the main part of the Emperor
Rudolf’s army, that had ridden on that day from St. Ursula’s wood; for
the emperor’s will was that to-morrow should see the attack begun on the
Swartzburg.
They were still an hour’s march from the place set for resting that
night, where would gather to them a smaller body that had come by
another way, minded to meet with a company of riders from the castle,
known to be hereabout. So, when he had spoken kindly to young Wulf, for
whose sake, indeed, the troop had made their way lie past the forge,
Rudolf of Hapsburg bade the boy fall in with the men, and the whole
company again went forward, the sick man borne upon a hastily made
litter by four of the foot-soldiers.
Getting for himself a good bow and arrow from the smithy, Wulf fell in
with the ranks of footmen, and then was he amazed to find that his
right-hand neighbor was Hansei from the Swartzburg.
Right pleased was he at the discovery, though well he wondered what it
might mean, and he made haste to ask Hansei about the matter. Then did
he hear how, two days before, a company of knights and others from the
castle, riding in chase of Elise and himself, had fallen in with an
outriding party of Rudolf’s men, and there had been fighting.
“Ay,” said Wulf, remembering, “and there at hand were we when that
fighting began.”
“Glad am I that we knew it not,” Hansei cried. “For the most part of the
emperor’s men were slain or taken prisoner, and few escaped to carry
word to the convent; but with them ran I: for I had small stomach to
fight ’gainst the lawful rulers of this land, and thou a hunted man
beside.”
Then did Hansei ask Wulf of his faring in the woods, whereupon Wulf, as
they marched, told him all the story, and how the outcast had come to
warn him, and of how the poor fellow had been like to die there by the
smithy, and how he had cared for him. But Hansei was filled with dread
at that part of the tale, for he feared for Wulf that he had given
shelter to the traitor, as he believed Bell-Hutten to be.
“Nay; but he is a fellow-man who risked his life for me,” Wulf said.
“But a black sinner was he, curst of God and men,” Hansei answered. “And
what says the priest o’ Sundays? Is’t not that we should hate evil?”
“To hate evil, surely,” said Wulf, soberly; “yet not to forget, as we
are men, where evil touches good; for this does it, at one point and
another, even as never a bane groweth, here in the forest, but its
unbane lives near neighbor to it. And it were foolishness, Hansei, if
nothing more, to let the thought that he was a sinner hinder our helping
a fellow in need.”
“Better foolishness than sin,” muttered Hansei, turning a bit sullen at
the reproof.
“’Tis not so certain,” replied Wulf. “For between sin and foolishness
there lies this difference: that God forgiveth our sins an we repent;
but our foolishness is like to get i’ the grain of us at last, and
naught kills it then but that we die ourselves.”
So talking, the two kept pace with the marching company, until, by
nightfall, they came up with the other party, and camp was made, well on
the road toward the Swartzburg.
No fires were built; for Rudolf of Hapsburg was minded, if possible, to
come close before the castle gates ere those within were aware; but
every man cared for his own needs as best he might, and before long the
whole host was sleeping, save for the watchers.
It was nigh upon daybreak when a wild alarum went through the camp, so
that every man sprang to his feet and grasped his weapon as he ran
forward in the darkness to learn what the matter was. The cries of men,
the clashing of weapons and armor, the shrill screams of wounded horses,
came up on every side, while so dark was it that for a little time the
emperor’s soldiers scarce knew friend from foe as they pressed on, half
dazed.
Soon, however, they made shift to form their array in some sort of
order, and there in the forest began a mighty battle.
For the baron, filled with vanity and wrath, and made foolhardy by the
easy victory his men had won over Rudolf’s soldiers two days before, had
planned this night attack, knowing, through Conradt’s spies, where the
emperor’s army were lying, and deeming that it would be a light matter
to set upon that force in the darkness, and destroy it, man and horse.
But Baron Everhardt had believed that that smaller body which the spies
had seen and brought him word of was the main army, and so the men of
the Swartzburg had all unthinkingly walked into a trap where they had
been minded to set one.
Sharp and grim now the fighting went on, sword meeting sword, pike
striking spear, as knight met knight or common soldier alike in the
confusion. Above all the din rang out the battle-cries of the two
parties, the Swartzburg men ever meeting the royal war-cry, “God and the
emperor!” with their own ringing watchword, “The Swartzburg and
liberty!” until the whole wood seemed filled with the sound.
In the midst of the fray went Rudolf of Hapsburg, with his great
two-handed sword, cleaning a way for those behind him. No armor wore he,
save a light shirt of chain mail, and no shield save his helmet; but
beside him fought Karl the armorer, with a huge battle-ax, so that Wulf,
catching glimpse of him in the press at day-dawn, felt a great joy fill
his heart at sight of that good soldier.
Not long could he look, however, for he and Hansei were in the thick of
it, well to the fore, where Rudolf’s banner-bearer had his place. In the
close quarters there was no work for the bowmen, so Wulf fought with the
sword that Karl had given him the day before, and a goodly blade he
found it; while Hansei wielded a great pike that he had wrested from one
of the baron’s men, and laid about him lustily wherever a foe showed.
So the hours passed, and many men were slain on either side, when it
began to be felt by the emperor’s soldiers that the Swartzburg men were
slowly falling back toward the defile to gain the castle.
“An they do that,” Hansei gasped, as he met Wulf again, “a long and
weary siege will be ours; for thou well knowest the Swartzburg’s
strength, and well hath the baron made ready.”
Then to Wulf came a right warcraftly notion, which he told to Hansei,
whereupon the two set to gather to them some score or more of the young
men, and these fell back toward the edge of the battle, until they were
out of the press and hastening through the wood, as Wulf knew how to
lead them.
They came at last to the morass, not far from where he and Elise had
crossed that night when they fled from the castle.
“There is never a crossing there!” Hansei cried, aghast, when he saw the
place; but Wulf laughed.
“Crossing there is,” he said lightly, “so that ye all follow me softly,
stepping where I step. Mind ye do that, for beyond the willows and the
pool yonder is quicksand, and that means death, for no footing is there
for any helper.”
Thus warned, the young men looked at one another uneasily; but none fell
back; so, unseen by the foe, and noting well each step that Wulf made,
they followed him until at last they won clear across that treacherous
morass, and came safe aland again among the osiers, well up the pass
toward the Swartzburg. Here they rested, getting their wind, and jesting
in high glee, as hot-hearted young fellows do, over the sport that was
to follow.
More than an hour they waited there, and by and by the sound of battle
began swelling up the defile. The baron’s men were in retreat, but
fighting stoutly, as they fell back, pressed close by the foe. Already
had the baron wound his horn loud and long, and cheerily was it answered
from the watch-tower with a blast which told that the keepers there were
in readiness, and that open gates and safe shelter awaited the
retreating men—when out at their backs sprang Wulf and his fellows, and
fell upon them right and left.
Then wild confusion was on all. Those attacked at the rear pressed
forward upon their comrades, who knew not what had happened, and drove
them back again to meet the swords and pikes of those lusty young men
who made the most of the foes’ surprise, and cut down many a seasoned
warrior ere he could well learn how he was attacked.
Then the baron sounded his horn again, and out from the castle came all
of the Swartzburg’s reserve to the rescue, and Wulf and his little band
were in turn beset, and like to be destroyed, had not Rudolf himself,
riding his great war-horse, and followed close by Karl, cut a way
through the Swartzburg ranks to their aid.
By now the fighting was man to man, pell-mell, all up the pass, and so
confused was that mass of battling soldiery that friend and foe of the
Swartzburg pressed together across the draw and in through the castle
gates, fighting as fight a pack of wolves when one is down.
Then, above all the din, sounded Herr Banf’s voice, calling the men of
the Swartzburg to the baron, and there against the wall of the outer
bailey made they their last stand. Well had Baron Everhardt fought among
his men, but at last a well hurled spear thrown from one of the
emperor’s soldiers pierced his helm and entered his brain, as he was
rallying his friends, and there he fell.
Quickly Herr Banf and Herr Werner took him up and bore him within the
inner bailey, while without the fighting went on. But the castle’s men
fought halfheartedly now; for their leader was gone, and well knew they
that they were battling against their lawful emperor. So ere long all
resistance fell away, and the emperor and his men poured, unhindered,
into the courtyard.
The Swartzburg was taken.