NEROWEG THE TERRIBLE EAGLE.
The Frankish chief who stood before me was a man of colossal stature.
Due to the use of lime-water, his beard as well as his greasy hair, that
rose in a knot over his forehead, had turned coppery red. His hair, tied
with a leather thong on the top of his head, fell behind his shoulders
like the flowing crest of a casque. Above each of his bushy red eyebrows
I saw an eagle's talon tattooed in blue, while another scarlet tattoo
mark, representing the undulations of a serpent, spanned his forehead.
His left cheek was also ornamented with a red and blue tattoo that
consisted of transverse rays. On his right cheek, however, the savage
ornament disappeared almost wholly in the cavity of a deep scar that
began below the eye and was finally lost under his shaggy beard. Heavy
and coarsely-wrought gold medals, that hung from and distended his ears,
dropped upon his shoulders. A heavy silver chain, wound three times
around his neck, reached down to his semi-bare breast. Above his cloth
tunic he wore a jacket of some animal's hide. His hose, of the same
quality and as soiled as his tunic, were fastened by a leather belt from
which, on one side, hung a long sword, on the other an axe of sharp
stone. Wide strips of tanned skin criss-crossed upward over his hose,
from the ankle to the knees. He leaned upon a short pike that ended in a
sharp point. The other kings who accompanied Neroweg were tattooed,
clad and armed more or less after the same fashion. The features of all
bore the stamp of savage gravity.
Elwig, who remained on her knees at my side, sought to conceal her face
from Neroweg. He rudely touched his sister's shoulder with the point of
his pike, and addressed her harshly:
"Why did you send for me before boiling the Gallic dog for your
auguries? My flayers have promised me his skin."
"The hour is not favorable," answered the priestess abruptly with a
mysterious air. "The hour of night--of dark night is preferable to
sacrifice to the gods of the nether world. The Gaul, moreover, says, oh
mighty king, that he has a message from Victoria and her son."
Neroweg drew nearer and looked at me. At first his mien was one of
disdainful indifference; presently, however, as he examined me more
attentively, his features assumed an expression of hatred and of
triumphant rage; at last he cried as if he could not believe his own
eyes:
"It is he! He is the horseman of the bay steed! It is himself!"
"Do you know him?" Elwig asked her brother. "Do you know this prisoner?"
"Off with you!" was Neroweg's brusque answer. "Get you gone!"
He then proceeded to contemplate me with renewed interest and repeated:
"Yes, it is he; the horseman of the bay steed!"
"Did you ever meet him in battle?" again asked Elwig. "Answer me. Do
answer me!"
"Will you be gone!" repeated Neroweg now raising his pike over the head
of the priestess. "I told you before, be gone!"
My eyes at that moment caught sight of the group of black warriors. I
saw that their captain Riowag could hardly be restrained by his men from
drawing his sword, and revenging the insult offered to Elwig by Neroweg.
But so far from obeying her brother, and no doubt fearing that in her
absence I might reveal to the Terrible Eagle both her own fratricidal
projects and the secret of Victoria's presents which she coveted, Elwig
cried:
"No! No! I remain here! The prisoner belongs to me for my auguries. I
shall not go away. I shall keep him--"
The only answer that Neroweg vouchsafed his sister were several blows
with the handle of his pike, delivered over her back. He thereupon made
a sign, and several of the warriors who accompanied him violently drove
the priestess, together with the haggish old assistant, back into the
cavern at the mouth of which they posted themselves on guard, sword in
hand.
The black warriors who surrounded Riowag were put to their mettle in
order to prevent their captain from precipitating himself with drawn
sword upon the Terrible Eagle. The latter, thinking only of me, failed
to notice the fury of his rival, and addressed me in a voice trembling
with rage, while he kicked me with his feet:
"Do you recognize me, dog?"
"I recognize you, rapacious wolf."
"This wound," resumed Neroweg carrying his finger to the deep scar that
furrowed his cheek, "do you know who made this wound?"
"Yes, it is my handiwork. I fought you as a soldier."
"You lie! You fought me like a coward! You were two against one!"
"You were making a furious onset on the son of Victoria the Great. He
was wounded--his hand could hardly hold his sword--I dashed to his
help--and struck in Gallic fashion."
"You marked my face with your Gallic sword--dog!"
Saying this Neroweg struck me repeatedly with the handle of his pike, to
the great amusement of the other kings.
I remembered my ancestor Guilhern, chained like a slave and supporting
with dignity the cruel treatment of the Romans after the battle of
Vannes. I emulated his example. I merely said to Neroweg:
"You are striking an unarmed soldier who is bound fast and who, relying
upon the truce, came to you on an errand of peace--that is a coward's
act. You would not dare to raise your stick at me if I stood on my feet
and sword in hand."
The Frankish chief laughed, struck me again and said:
"He is a fool who, able to kill his enemy disarmed, does not exterminate
him. I would like to kill you twice over. You are doubly my enemy. I
hate you because you are a Gaul, I hate you because your race holds
Gaul, the country of sunshine, of good wine and beautiful women; then
also I hate you because you marked my face with a wound that is my
eternal shame. I shall therefore make you suffer so much that your pain
will be equal to two deaths, a thousand deaths, if I only could--you
Gallic dog!"
"The Gallic dog is a noble animal for war and for the hunt," I replied
to him; "the Frankish wolf, however, is an animal of rapine and carnage.
But it will not be long before the brave Gallic dogs will have chased
from their frontiers this pack of voracious wolves that have come
prowling from the northern forests. Be careful! If you refuse to listen
to the message that I have for you from Victoria and her valiant son--be
careful! Our army is numerous. It will be a war to the death that will
be waged between the Gallic dog and the Frankish wolf--a war of
extermination--and the Frankish wolf will be devoured by the Gallic
dog."
Grinding his teeth with rage, Neroweg seized the axe that hung from his
belt, and raising it in both hands was about to let it come crashing
down upon my head. I believed my last hour had come, but two of the
other kings held the arm of Elwig's brother, into whose ears they
whispered a few words that seemed to calm him. He held a short
conference with his companions and returned to me:
"What is the message that you bring from Victoria for the Frankish
kings?"
"The messenger of Victorin and Victoria can only speak on his feet,
unfettered, his head high--not stretched down on the ground, and bound
fast like the ox that expects the butcher's knife. Order my bonds to be
removed, and I shall speak--if not, not. You have heard me, brute that
you are!"
"Speak on the spot--unconditionally, you Gallic dog!--or tremble before
my anger!"
"No; I shall not speak!"
"I shall know how to make you speak!"
"Try it! You will find me unshakeable!"
Neroweg ordered one of the other kings to fetch a firebrand from under
the brass caldron. I was held down by the shoulders and feet, so as to
prevent me from making the slightest motion, while the Terrible Eagle
placed the firebrand upon my iron cuirass and heaped up others about it.
The brasier that he thus built upon my body seemed to amuse him greatly.
He laughed out aloud and said to me:
"You shall speak, or be broiled like a tortoise in its shell."
The iron of my cuirass soon began to heat under the coals which two of
the Frankish kings kept alive by blowing upon them. I suffered greatly
and cried:
"Oh! Neroweg! Neroweg! Cowardly assassin! I would gladly endure these
tortures, if I only could see myself once more sword in hand before you,
and put my mark upon your other cheek. Oh! You have said it--there is
room only for hatred and death between our two races!"
"What is Victoria's message?" the Terrible Eagle asked again.
I remained silent, despite the intense pain that I suffered. The iron of
my cuirass was growing hot all around.
"Will you speak?" the Frankish chief cried anew, evidently astonished at
my resistance.
"Victoria's messenger speaks erect and free," I answered. "If not, not!"
Whether the Frankish chief considered it desirable to know the message
that I brought, or whether he only yielded to the suggestions of his
companions, who were less ferocious than himself, one of them unbuckled
my casque, raised it off my head, took it to the stream that rippled
down the rocks at the mouth of the cavern, filled it and poured the cold
water upon my heated cuirass. By degrees it cooled off.
"Free him of his bonds," said Neroweg, "but surround him; and let him
instantly fall under your blows should he try to escape."
I slowly regained my strength while I was being unbound; the torture I
had just undergone almost caused me to faint. I drank some of the water
that remained in my casque, and stood up in the midst of the kings, who
surrounded me so as to cut off my retreat.
"Give us now your message," said Neroweg.
"A truce has been concluded between our two armies," I proceeded.
"Victoria and her son send to tell you: Since you issued from your
northern forests you have taken possession of the whole territory of
Germany on the right bank of the Rhine. That soil is as fertile as
Gaul's. Before your invasion it produced an abundance of everything.
Your acts of violence and cruelty have driven almost all its inhabitants
to flight. The soil, nevertheless, remains, ready and willing for the
husbandman. Why do you not cultivate it, instead of waging incessant war
against us and living on rapine? Is it the love for war that sways you?
We Gauls, better than anyone else, understand and appreciate the love
for martial display. We appreciate it, and make this proposition to you.
At each new moon, send one or two thousand of your picked warriors to
one of the large islands in the Rhine, which is our joint frontier. We
shall expedite thither an equal number of our warriors. The two sets
will be free to fight it out at their heart's content. But then, at
least, you Franks, on one side of the river, and we Gauls on the other
shall be able to cultivate our respective fields in peace, we shall be
able to work, to manufacture and to enrich our countries, without being
forever compelled to keep an eye upon the frontier, and a sword hanging
from the plow handle. If you refuse our proposition we shall then wage a
war of extermination against you, drive you from our frontiers, and
chase you back into your forests. When two nations are separated only by
a river they should be friends, or one of the two must destroy the
other. Choose! I await your answer."
Neroweg consulted with several of the kings who stood near him, and
presently answered me with marked insolence:
"The Frank is not one of those races, like the Gallic, who work by
cultivating the soil. The Frank loves war; but above all he loves the
warmth of the sun, good wine, fine weapons, brilliant clothes, gold and
silver goblets, rich necklaces, large and well built cities, superb
palaces after the fashion of the Romans, the beautiful Gallic women,
industrious slaves who mind the whip and work for their masters while
these drink, sing, sleep and make love or war. In their gloomy country
of the north, however, the Franks find neither sunshine nor good wine,
nor fine weapons, nor brilliant clothes, nor gold and silver goblets,
nor large and well built cities, nor superb palaces, nor beautiful
Gallic women--all these things are to be found among you, Gallic dogs!
We purpose and mean to take all that from you--we purpose and mean to
establish ourselves in your fertile country, and enjoy all the good
things that it contains, while the males of you will work for us under
the whip and the sharp sword that we shall hold over you, and the
females--your wives, sisters and daughters--will lie in our beds, will
weave our shirts and will wash our clothes. Do you understand, Gallic
dog?"
The other kings applauded Neroweg and accentuated their approval with
loud laughter and clatter of arms, joined to cries of:
"Yes--that is what we want--do you understand, Gallic dog?"
"I understand," I replied, unable to refrain from indulging in raillery
against such savage insolence. "I understand that you wish to conquer
and subjugate us as did the Romans for a time, after our own race
dominated and conquered the whole world for centuries in succession. But
you who so much love the sunshine, the goods, the country and the women
of other peoples, you seem to forget that, despite the universal power
that they acquired and despite their innumerable armies, even the Romans
were compelled to return to us one by one the rights that we enjoyed, so
that, at this hour, the Romans are no longer our conquerors, but our
allies. Now, then, seeing that you so much love the sunshine, the
country, the goods and wives of others, listen to my words: We, the
Gauls, alone and unaided by the Romans, will chase you from our
frontiers, or we shall exterminate you to the last man if you persist in
being bad neighbors and in proposing to plunder us of our old Gaul."
"Yes, we are plunderers!" cried Neroweg. "And, by the snows of Germany
we shall plunder you of your old Gaul! Our army is four times as large
as yours; you have your palaces, your cities, your wealth, your women,
your sun, your fertile earth to defend--we have nothing to defend and
everything to gain. We camp in our huts and sleep on the backs of our
horses; our only wealth is our sword; we have nothing to lose,
everything to gain. And we will gain everything, and we will subjugate
your race, you Gallic dog! It will be the end of Gaul!"
"Go and ask the Romans, whose army was even larger than yours, how many
foreign cohorts the sod of old Gaul has devoured! Even the greatest
battles that they, the conquerors of the world delivered, did not cost
them one-quarter the number of soldiers that our fathers, as insurgent
slaves, exterminated with their scythes and forks. Take care! Strong and
sharp is the sword of the Gallic soldier; trenchant is the scythe, heavy
the fork of the Gallic husbandman in the defense of hearth, family and
freedom! Take care! If you persist in remaining bad neighbors, the
Gallic scythe and fork will be enough to drive you back into your
snow-bound wilderness, ye people of sloth, of rapine and of carnage, who
desire to enjoy the fruits of the labors of others, who covet their
soil, their wives and their sunshine, and strive after these by means of
theft and massacre!"
"Dare you, Gallic dog, hold such language to us!" cried Neroweg grinding
his teeth. "You, a prisoner! You, under the points of our swords! under
the edge of the Frankish battle axe!"
"The moment seems to me opportune to say the truth to the enemies of
Gaul!"
"And I think the moment is opportune to put you through a thousand
deaths!" cried the Frankish king in a passion as towering as that of his
fellows. "Yes, you shall undergo a thousand deaths--and after that, my
sole answer to the audacious message of your Victoria will be to return
your head to her with the announcement in the name of Neroweg the
Terrible Eagle, that, before the sun shall have risen six times, I shall
capture herself in the midst of her own camp, shall take her to my bed,
and shall then pass her over to my men, that they may, in turn, enjoy
Victoria, the proud Gallic woman!"
I lost all control over myself at the ribald and ferocious insolence
flung at the woman whom I venerated above all others. I was unarmed, but
I picked up one of the now extinguished firebrands that lay at my feet
and which the Franks had used to torture me with; I seized the heavy
log, and swift as lightning struck Neroweg so sound a blow with it over
his head that he reeled back, stumbled and fell to the ground
unconscious.
Ten swords struck me almost simultaneously. But my casque and cuirass
protected me. In their blind rage the Frankish chiefs struck at random,
and cried:
"Death! Death to the dog of a Gaul!"
Only Riowag, the captain of the black warriors, did not join in the
attempt to avenge upon my person the blow I dealt to his rival, Neroweg.
On the contrary, he profited by the tumult to enter the cavern into
which Elwig had been driven back, the entrance of which was now left
free, seeing that the two kings, who, sword in hand, mounted guard
before it, rushed to the assistance of the Terrible Eagle, who lay
prostrate at a distance from them.
Immediately after Riowag entered the grotto, the priestess and her two
assistant hags rushed out. With streaming hair, haggard looks, and hands
raised heavenward they cried:
"The hour has come--the sun is setting--night approaches--death, death
to the Gaul! He struck the Terrible Eagle--death, death to the Gaul!
Bind him fast. We shall consult the subterranean gods in the magic water
in which he is to boil!"
"Yes--death!" cried the Franks rushing upon me and binding me fast
again. "He shall die under a prolonged agony! Death to the dog of a
Gaul!"
"We are the priestesses of the sacrifice!" Elwig and the two hags
protested in chorus, while they redoubled their bizarre contortions that
by degrees imposed the Frankish warriors with terror.
"Oh! you who struck my brother, the blood of my blood," Elwig screamed,
writhing her arms, and howling furiously she threw herself upon me in a
real or feigned transport of rage; "the gods of the nether world have
delivered you into my hands! Come--come--let us drag him into the
cavern," she added addressing the old hags, "we must season him for his
death with the proper tortures. Vengeance! Let our vengeance be
merciless!"
The confusion into which the Franks were thrown by the blow that I dealt
Neroweg kept them from interfering with Elwig and her two female
assistants. Several of the kings even joined her in dragging me into the
cavern, while the others were hurrying hither and thither or gathered
anxiously around the Terrible Eagle who lay prone upon the ground, pale,
motionless and his head bleeding.
"Our grand chief is not dead," said some; "his hands are warm and his
heart beats."
"Let us transport him to his hut."
"If he die we shall draw lots for his five black horses, his fine Gallic
sword with the gold handle, and also for his necklace and silver
bracelets."
"The horses and arms of Neroweg belong to the oldest chief!" cried one
of those who were holding up the head of the Terrible Eagle. "I am the
oldest. To me belong both horses and arms! To me also his tent and
chariots! To me his gold necklaces and silver bracelets!"
"You lie!" came from one of the chiefs at the feet of Neroweg. "His
horses, his tent and his arms belong to me as his war companion."
"No!" cried the others. "No! Everything that belongs to Neroweg must be
drawn lots for."
From the threshold of the cavern where I then was, I could see and hear
the dispute wax hot and the swords glisten, while Neroweg, who still
remained unconscious, was almost trampled under the feet of the enraged
disputants, as they leaped over his body to get at closer quarters with
one another. The conflict threatened to take a bloody turn when, leaving
me where I was, Elwig threw herself between the combatants, whom she
sought to separate, and shouted aloud:
"Shame and ill luck to those who contend over the spoils of a king who
is neither dead nor revenged! Shame and ill luck to those who contend
over the spoils of a brother before the very eyes of his sister! Shame
and ill luck to the impious men who disturb the quiet of a place that is
consecrated to the gods of the nether world!"
And with an inspired and dreadful mien, the priestess drew herself to
her full length, and throwing up her clenched fists above her head,
cried:
"My two hands are full of fearful misfortunes. Tremble!"
At these threats, the frightened barbarians involuntarily lowered their
heads, as if afraid of being struck with the mysterious ills that the
priestess held in her closed hands. They put their swords back into
their scabbards. Profound silence ensued.
"Carry the Terrible Eagle to his hut!" Elwig thereupon commanded. "The
sister will accompany her wounded brother. The Gallic prisoner will be
watched by Map and Mob who assist me at the sacrifices. Two of you will
remain at the mouth of the cavern, with your swords in your hands. Night
is drawing near. Elwig will presently return with Neroweg. The execution
of the prisoner will then begin, and I shall consult the auguries in the
magic waters in which he is to boil until death supervenes!"
My last hope was dashed. In contemplating to return with her brother,
Elwig must have doubtlessly renounced the project that her greed had
caused her to hatch. I had pinned my safety on that project. I was
bound firmly, hands and feet. My arms were pinioned behind my back; a
belt was strapped around my legs. I could hardly move a step. I slowly
followed the two hags into the grotto, at the entrance of which several
of the kings posted themselves, sword in hand. The deeper I penetrated
the cave, all the darker it grew. After having proceeded a little way,
one of the two hags said to me:
"You may lie down on the ground if you wish; the sun has gone down.
While waiting for Elwig's return, my companion and I shall keep the fire
alive under the caldron."
Saying this both the hags left me. I remained alone.