probability the race would lie between these two. As, however, all this
occurred in the third round of the course, and all the other runners
seemed to be doing their work with steady resolution, there was still
the possibility of one or more of them proving themselves, by endurance
perhaps, more than a match for the swift-footed. The excitement,
therefore, became intense, and, as round after round of the course was
completed the relative position of the various men changed considerably.
At the seventh round some, who had been husbanding their strength, let
out, and, passing others with great ease, came close upon the heels of
Gunrig and Bladud. This was, of course, a signal for enthusiastic
cheering. Others of the runners, feeling that their chance of taking a
respectable place was hopeless, dropped out of the race altogether and
were cheered vociferously as they retired.
At last, in the eighth round, it became practically, as had been
anticipated, a race between the leading two, for they were far ahead of
all the others by that time, but occupied exactly the same relative
position as before. Gunrig became so exasperated at this, that on
commencing the ninth round, he made a sudden effort which carried him
five or six yards ahead of his rival.
The spectators could not avoid cheering him at this, but the cheer was
feeble.
"The tall man is losing wind," cried one in a disappointed tone.
"I feared his legs were too long," observed another. Most of the
people, however, looked on in anxious silence.
"I did not think he would give in so easily," murmured little Maikar
regretfully.
"He has not given in yet," returned the captain, with a satisfied nod.
"See--he pulls up!"
This was true. To the unbounded surprise of the spectators, Bladud had
actually stopped a moment to tighten his belt at the beginning of the
tenth round. Then, to their still greater amazement, he put on what we
may call an Olympic spurt, so that he overtook his rival in less than a
quarter of a minute; passed him easily, ran over the rest of the course
at a rate which had not been equalled since Old Albion was created, and
passed the winning-post full five hundred yards in advance of Gunrig,
amid yells of delight and roars of laughter, which continued for some
time--bursting forth again and again as the novelty and surprise of the
thing became more and more forced home to the spectators' minds.
"You have met more than your match to-day, Gunrig," remarked the king,
with a laugh, as the defeated man strode angrily up to the platform.
"I have met foul play," replied the chief angrily. "He pretended that
he could not run, else would I have put on more force. But it matters
not. I will have another opportunity of trying him. Meanwhile, there
is yet the heavy stone to throw. How now, wench?" he added, turning
fiercely on Branwen, who had nearly hidden her face in her shawl, "do
you try to hide that you are laughing at me?"
Poor Branwen was in anything but a laughing mood. She was too much
afraid of the fiery chief for that, and had merely covered her face, as
a modern beauty might drop her veil, to avoid his gaze.
The fair-haired Hafrydda, however, was not so timid, her smile was
evidently one of amusement at his defeat, which angered him all the
more.
"Gunrig," said the king, drawing himself up, and speaking impressively,
"remember that you are my guest, and that it ill becomes you to insult
my women before my face."
"Pardon me," replied the chief, with an effort to recover himself. "You
must remember that I am not accustomed to defeat."
"True," returned the king blandly, "so now you had better take to the
heavy stone and come off the victor."
Gunrig at once went down into the arena and sent a challenge to Bladud.
The latter had returned to his place among the spectators, but his
height rendered him easy to find. He accepted the challenge at once,
and, as no other competitor for the heavy stone offered, the two had it
all to themselves. This was no matter of wonder, for the heaviest stone
among those laid out for trial was of a weight that many of the young
men or warriors could barely lift, while the stoutest of them could not
have thrown it more than a few feet.
Boiling over as he was with indignation, Gunrig felt as if he was endued
with more than usual strength. He lifted the stone with ease, faced the
platform, heeled the line, and hurled the stone violently over his head,
so that it fell with a heavy thud far behind him. Then Bladud took it
up.
"Oh! what a stout man he is!" whispered Branwen to Hafrydda, "and what a
handsome face!"
"That is true; and I hope he will win," replied the princess.
"Hush! child, the king will be displeased if he hears you," said her
mother earnestly. "What ever you think, keep silence."
The queen spoke with such unwonted energy that Hafrydda was surprised,
but her thoughts were instantly diverted to Bladud, who made a
magnificent cast and sent the stone a yard further than his opponent.
But Gunrig seized it again and hurled it a foot beyond that.
"Well done," said the king. "Go on. It is the best in three heaves
that wins."
Bladud grasped the stone and hurled it back over his head with all his
force. Up and up it went as if it had resolved to become an aerolite
and visit the moon! Then down it came with a mighty thud ten yards
beyond Gunrig's mark.
Once more the air rang with the enthusiastic plaudits of the multitude,
while the king ordered the victor to approach the stand.
Bladud did so with some trepidation, for now he knew that he would have
to speak, and feared that though his appearance had not betrayed him,
his voice would probably do so.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
A NOTABLE DUEL FOLLOWED BY CHANGES AND PLOTS.
Every eye was riveted with admiration and curiosity on the young
stranger as he approached.
"You have acquitted yourself well, young man," said the king, "and it
becomes us to invite you to our palace and to ask if we can serve you in
any way."
Bladud had a deep voice, and, by way of increasing his chances of
concealing his identity, he pitched it a note or two lower than usual as
he replied.
"I thank you, sir, for your hospitality and gladly accept it. As to
your offer to serve me, I would count it a favour if you will permit me
to enter into combat with one of your friends."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the king, in great surprise, "that is a strange
request, but I may not deny you. Which of my warriors may it be?"
"It is none of your warriors, sir," answered Bladud, "but one of your
guests who has, I am told, challenged whoever will to fight him for the
hand of your fair daughter. I am here now to accept that challenge and
to fight with Gunrig if he will."
"Assuredly, young man, your ambition or presumption seems equal to your
prowess," returned the king with an offended look; "know ye not that
this challenge was delivered to chiefs of this country, not to unknown
strangers, and although I admit that your tongue seems well accustomed
to our language, it has a foreign smack about it which does not belong
to those who are home-bred."
"I am a chief," answered Bladud, proudly, "and this is my native land."
"What is your name, then, and where come ye from?" demanded the king.
"That I may not answer just now, but I am here, in your power, if what I
say be not found true, you may do what you will with me. Meanwhile I
ask permission to accept the challenge."
At this point Gunrig, unable to restrain himself longer, sprang forward.
"Grant him permission, king," he cried. "If I were not ready to abide
by my word I were not worth my salt. Nay, indeed, whether you grant him
permission or not I will fight him, for he has twice beaten me this day,
and now insults me, therefore there is a deadly feud between us."
"You were always a hot-head, Gunrig," replied the king, with a grim
smile. "But have your way. Only it does not follow that if you lose
the day I will give my child to the conqueror."
"Be that as you choose," said Gunrig, "I am now ready."
As he spoke the fiery chief grasped his shield, leaped down into the
arena and drew his sword.
Bladud was not slow to follow. In those days action usually followed
close on the heels of purpose, and as the laws of chivalry had not yet
been formulated there was no braying of trumpets or tedious ceremonial
to delay the combat.
"Oh! I do hope he will conquer," whispered the Princess Hafrydda to her
dark-eyed companion, "and save me from that horrid man."
"I hope so too," returned Branwen, in a subdued voice, "but--"
She stopped abruptly, and a blush deepened the rich colour of her cheek,
which she sought to conceal by drawing her shawl still closer over it.
This was needless, for the clash of swords at the moment, as the
combatants met in deadly conflict, claimed the exclusive attention of
the damsels, and caused the entire concourse to press close around the
barricades with eager interest.
"A strange way to mark his home-coming," muttered Captain Arkal,
thrusting himself as near to the scene of action as possible, closely
followed by Maikar, who, being little, kept easily in his wake.
"He knows well what he's about," returned the little man, whose
admiration for Bladud was great, and his belief in him unbounded.
Maikar was one of those men--of whom there are no doubt thousands--who
powerfully appreciate, almost venerate, and always recognise, the spirit
of justice when displayed by their fellows, although they may not always
be aware of the fact that they do recognise it--hence his belief in the
prince.
"A good day for the land if that long-legged fellow slays him," remarked
one of the crowd.
"That's true," said another.
Indeed, this seemed to be the opinion of most of the spectators; there
was also a general expression of confidence that the stranger was sure
to be victorious, but some objectors--of whom there are, and necessarily
must be a considerable number in the world--held that Gunrig was a stout
man to tackle, and it was not always length of limb that gained the day.
Such comments, however, were not numerous, for the concourse soon became
too deeply absorbed to indulge in speech.
The fight that now ensued gave some weight to the objectors' views.
At first the combatants rushed at each other with the ferocity of men
who mean to settle a dispute by instant and mutual destruction, and
there was a sort of gasp of excited surprise among the people as the two
swords fell at the same moment with something like a thunderclap on the
respective shields. Feeling that neither could overcome the other by
the might of a resistless blow, each, after one or two rapid cuts,
thrusts, and guards, ascertained that his adversary was so nearly his
match as to render great care needful. They retired a few paces, and
then advancing, settled down to their work, point to point and foot to
foot.
Gunrig, although inferior in stature to the prince, was about equal to
him in strength and weight, and, being a trained warrior in the prime of
life, was possessed of a sturdy endurance which, to some extent, made up
for the other's superior agility. In other respects they seemed well
matched, for each was highly trained and expert in the use of his
weapons.
After a second onset, somewhat similar to the first, and with much the
same result, the two went at each other with cut and thrust so rapidly
that it was almost impossible to distinguish their swords as they
flashed like gleaming flames in the sunshine.
Suddenly Gunrig drew back, and, springing at the prince with uplifted
weapon, as if to cut him down, changed the attack into a quick thrust
which, passing under the youth's uplifted shield, went straight to his
breast. But the quick eye of Bladud detected the intention in time.
Leaping lightly backward, he caused the thrust to come short; at the
same time he returned with a quick thrust at the chief's right shoulder
which took effect slightly. Giving him no time to recover, he made a
sweeping cut at Gunrig's neck, which, had it fallen, would have shorn
his head from his shoulders, but the chief, instead of guarding it,
suddenly stooped, and, as the sword passed whistling above him, returned
with a thrust so fierce that it pierced right through the thick shield
opposed to it.
Here was an opportunity of which Bladud was not slow to avail himself.
Although the arm which held it was slightly wounded, he gave the shield
a violent and sudden twist, which not only held the weapon fast but
nearly wrenched it out of the chief's hand. An ordinary sword would
have been snapped, but Gunrig's weapon was a big bronze one that had
done service in many a fray, and its owner's hand was strong. He held
it fast, but before he could withdraw it and recover himself Bladud cut
him fair over the head. Whether it was accident or design no one could
tell, but the flat instead of the edge of his sword descended on the
headpiece, and the blow which should otherwise have cleft his adversary
to the chin only stretched him insensible on the field.
A great sigh of relief, mingled with wild cheers of satisfaction,
greeted this effective termination of the fight, and the king was
evidently not ill-pleased.
"Pick him up, some of you," he said, pointing to the prostrate Gunrig,
"and carry him to the palace. See that he is well cared for. Go,
Branwen, and see that everything is properly done for him."
Branwen at once left the stand, and the king, descending into the arena,
proceeded to congratulate the victor.
Before he could do so, however, to his unbounded surprise, the queen
also descended with her daughter and threw her arms round the prince's
neck, while Hafrydda seized his hand and covered it with kisses.
"Body of me! am I dreaming?" cried the king, after a few moments of
speechless amazement.
"Oh! Bladud," exclaimed the queen, looking up in his smiling face, "did
you really think you could deceive your own mother? Fie, fie, I would
have recognised you if you had come with your face painted black."
By this time the king had recovered, and realised the fact that his
long-lost son had returned home. He strode towards him, and, grasping
his hand, essayed to speak, but something in his throat rendered speech
impossible. King Hudibras was a stern man, however, and scorned to show
womanly weakness before his people. He turned suddenly round, kicked a
few courtiers out of his way, remounted the platform, and, in a loud
voice, announced the conclusion of the sports.
Great was the rejoicing among the people assembled there, when the news
spread that the long-lost Prince Bladud had returned home, and that the
tall youth who had defeated Gunrig was he, and they cheered him with
even more zest and energy than they had at the moment of his victory.
Meanwhile Gunrig, having been conveyed to the residence of the king, was
laid on a couch. The palace was, we need scarcely say, very unlike our
modern palaces, being merely a large hut or rude shanty of logs,
surrounded by hundreds of similar but smaller huts, which composed this
primitive town. The couch on which the chief lay was composed of
brushwood and leaves. But Gunrig did not lie long upon it. He was a
tough man, as well as a stout, and he had almost recovered consciousness
when the princess, returning from the games, arrived to assist her
friend in attending to the king's commands.
She found Branwen about to enter the chamber, in which the chief lay,
with a bandage.
"Hast heard the news?" she asked, with a gladsome smile.
"Not I," replied Branwen, in a rather sharp tone.
"Whatever it is, it seems to have made you happy."
"Truly it has. But let us go in with the bandages first. The news is
too good to be told in a hurry."
The sound of their voices as they entered aroused Gunrig completely, and
he rose up as they approached.
"My father sent us," said the princess in some confusion, "to see that
you are well cared for. Your wounds, I hope, are not dangerous?"
"Dangerous, no; and they will not prevent me from speedily avenging
myself on the young upstart who has appeared so suddenly to claim you
for a bride. Stay, you need not go so quickly, or toss your head in
pride. I will stand by my word, and let him keep who wins. But I have
a word to say to you, Branwen. Come along with me."
Wooers among the ancient Albionites were not, it would seem, celebrated
for politeness--some of them, at least! The chief seized the shrinking
girl by the wrist as he spoke, and led her out of the house and into a
neighbouring thicket, where he bade her sit down on a fallen tree.
"Now," he said, sitting down beside her, and putting his arm round her
waist, despite her objections, "this young turkey-cock has fairly won
Hafrydda, and he is welcome to her for all that I care--that is, if he
lives to claim her hand after our next meeting, for, since I've seen
your pretty face, Branwen, I would rather wed you than the fairest lass
that ever owned to Norland blood. What say you to take the princess's
place and become my wife?"
"Oh! no, no," exclaimed Branwen, in great distress, trying to disengage
his arm, "you love Hafrydda, and it is impossible that you can love us
both! Let me go."
"I'm not so sure that I ever really cared for the princess," replied the
chief; "but of this I am quite sure, that I never loved her half as much
as I love you, Branwen."
The girl tore herself away from him, and, standing up with flushed face
and flashing eyes, exclaimed--
"Shame would crush you, if you were a brave man, for uttering such a
speech. But you are _not_ brave; you are a coward, and your late
opponent will teach you that. Be sure that I will never consent to wed
one who is a disgrace to manhood."
A fierce scowl crossed Gunrig's swarthy countenance, but it passed in a
moment, and a look of admiration replaced it as he looked up with a
smile.
"I like maids with your temper," he said, still keeping his seat, "but
you forget that if the king so wills it, you shall be compelled to
accept me, and I think the king will scarce dare to thwart my wishes,
especially now that another man has a right to the princess."
"I defy you," returned the girl, still at a white heat of indignation,
"and if the king tries to force me to wed you, I will defy him too! The
young stranger will be my champion--or, if he should refuse, there are
other ways by which a helpless girl may escape from tyrants."
She turned with these words and fled. Gunrig sprang up to pursue, but,
fortunately for the girl, a modest bramble, that scarce ventured to
raise its branches above the ground, caught his foot and sent him
headlong into a rotten stump, which seemed only too ready to receive
him. Extracting his head from its embrace, he stood up in a bewildered
frame of mind, found that the light-footed Branwen had escaped him, and
sat down again on the fallen tree to recover his equanimity.
Meanwhile the poor girl ran back to the palace, rushed into Hafrydda's
room, threw herself on a couch, and burst into tears.
This was such an unwonted exhibition of weakness in Branwen that the
princess stood looking at her for a few moments in silent surprise.
Then she sought to comfort her, and made her relate, bit by bit, with
many a sob between, what had occurred.
"But why do you cry so bitterly?" asked Hafrydda. "It is so unlike you
to give way to despair. Besides, you defied him, you say, and you were
right to do so, for my dear father will never force you to wed against
your wishes."
"I know better," returned the other, with some bitterness. "Did he not
intend to make _you_ wed against your wishes?"
"That is true," replied the gentle Hafrydda, with a sigh. "But I am
saved from that now," she added, brightening up suddenly, "and that
reminds me of the good news. Do you know who the handsome youth is who
rescued me from this monster?"
"No, I don't; and I'm sure I don't care," answered Branwen, with a touch
of petulance. "At all events, I suppose you will be glad of the change
of husbands."
"He will never be my husband," returned the princess, somewhat amused by
her friend's tone, for she suspected the cause. "He is my brother
Bladud--my long-lost brother!"
The change that came over Branwen's pretty face on hearing this was
remarkable.
"Your brother!" she exclaimed. "No wonder that he is beautiful, as well
as brave!"
A merry laugh broke from the princess as she kissed her friend. "Well,
but," she said, "what will you do? You know that always, when I have
been perplexed or in trouble, I have come to you for help and advice.
Now that things are turned the other way, I know not what advice to give
you."
"I have settled what to do," answered Branwen, drying her eyes, and
looking up with the air of one whose mind has been suddenly and firmly
made up. "Your father, I know, will consent to Gunrig's wishes. If he
did not, there would be war again--horrible war--between the tribes. I
will never be the cause of that if I can help it. At the same time, it
would kill me to wed with Gunrig. I would rather die than that;
therefore--I will run away."
"And leave me?" exclaimed the princess anxiously.
"Well, I should have to leave you, at any rate, if I stay and am
compelled to marry Gunrig."
"But where will you run to?"
"That I will not tell, lest you should be tempted to tell lies to your
father. Just be content to know that I shall not be far away, and that
in good time you shall hear from me. Farewell, dear Hafrydda, I dare
not stay, for that--that monster will not be long in hatching and
carrying out some vile plot--farewell."
CHAPTER TWELVE.
PLOTS AND PLANS.
About three miles beyond the outskirts of King Hudibras' town--the name
of which has now, like many other things, been lost in the proverbial
mists of antiquity--an old man dwelt in a sequestered part of the
forest. His residence was a dry cave at the foot of a cliff, or,
rather, a rude hut which, resting against the cliff, absorbed the cave,
so to speak, into its rear premises.
The old man had a somewhat aquiline nose, a long white beard, and a
grave, but kindly, expression of countenance. He was one of the sons of
Israel--at that time _not_ a despised race. Although aged he was
neither bowed nor weak, but bore himself with the uprightness and vigour
of a man in his prime. When at home, this man seemed to occupy his time
chiefly in gathering firewood, cooking food, sleeping, and reading in a
small roll of Egyptian papyrus which he carried constantly in his bosom.
He was well known, far and near, as Beniah the merchant, who trafficked
with the Phoenician shipmen; was a sort of go-between with them and the
surrounding tribes, and carried his wares from place to place far and
wide through the land. He was possessed of a wonderful amount of
curious knowledge, and, although he spoke little, he contrived in the
little he said to make a favourable impression on men and women. Being
obliging as well as kind, and also exceedingly useful, people not only
respected Beniah, but treated him as a sort of semi-sacred being who was
not to be interfered with in any way. Even robbers--of whom there were
not a few in those days--respected the Hebrew's property; passed by his
hut with looks of solemnity, if not of awe, and allowed him to come and
go unchallenged.
Most people liked Beniah. A few feared him, and a still smaller
number--cynics, who have existed since the days of Adam--held him to be
in league with evil spirits. He was a tall, stalwart man, and carried a
staff of oak about six feet long, as a support during his travels. It
had somehow come to be understood that, although Beniah was
pre-eminently a man of peace, it was nevertheless advisable to treat him
with civility or to keep well out of the range of that oaken staff.
Possibly this opinion may have been founded on the fact that, on one
occasion, three big runaway Phoenician seamen, who thought they would
prefer a life in the woods to a life on the ocean wave, had one evening
been directed to Beniah's hut as a place where strangers were never
refused hospitality when they asked it with civility. As those three
seamen made their appearance in the town that same evening, in a very
sulky state of mind, with three broken heads, it was conjectured that
they had omitted the civility--either on purpose or by accident. Be
this as it may, Beniah and his six-foot staff had become objects of
profound respect.
Evening was drawing on and Beniah was sitting on a stool beside his open
door, enjoying the sunshine that penetrated his umbrageous retreat, and
reading the papyrus scroll already referred to, when the figure of a
woman approached him with timid, hesitating steps. At first the Hebrew
did not observe her, but, as she drew nearer, the crackling of branches
under her light footsteps aroused him. He looked up quickly, and the
woman, running forward, stood before him with clasped hands.