+-------------------------------------------------+
|Transcriber's note: |
| |
|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. |
| |
+-------------------------------------------------+
TEKLA
A ROMANCE OF LOVE AND WAR
BY
ROBERT BARR
Author of "A CHICAGO PRINCESS," "THE MUTABLE MANY," Etc.
[Illustration: Decoration]
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS :: :: NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1898
BY ROBERT BARR
TO
THE COUNTESS LAURA
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE EMPEROR ENTERS TREVES 1
II. THE ARCHER INTRODUCES HIMSELF 13
III. LISTENERS HEAR LITTLE GOOD OF THEMSELVES 28
IV. THE EMPEROR DISAPPEARS 42
V. LOVE LEADS THE WAY 55
VI. AN UNWISHED-FOR MARRIAGE DAY 62
VII. THE FLIGHT OF THE COUNTESS 69
VIII. THE RAPIER AND THE BROADSWORD 80
IX. A PALATIAL PRISON 92
X. THE INTERCEPTED FUGITIVES 99
XI. IN QUEST OF A WIFE WITH A TROOP OF HORSE 112
XII. CUPID'S BOW GIVES PLACE TO THE ARCHER'S 123
XIII. THE BLACK COUNT IS PERSUADED NOT TO HANG HIS EMPEROR 134
XIV. A RELUCTANT WELCOME 148
XV. CASTLE THURON MAKES A FULL MEAL 158
XVI. THE COUNTESS TRIES TO TAME THE BEAR 174
XVII. THE ENVOY'S DISASTROUS RETURN 184
XVIII. A TWO-HANDED SWORD TEACHES DEPORTMENT 198
XIX. A MAN AND A WOMAN MEET BY TORCHLIGHT 209
XX. A BREAKFAST ON THE TOP OF THE SOUTH TOWER 217
XXI. AN EXPERIMENT IN DIPLOMACY 228
XXII. THE FIRST ATTACK ON CASTLE THURON 234
XXIII. THE TWO ARCHBISHOPS FALL OUT 245
XXIV. COUNT BERTRICH EXPLAINS HIS FAILURE 256
XXV. THE SECOND ASSAULT ON THE CASTLE 260
XXVI. AN ILLUMINATED NIGHT ATTACK ON THURON 269
XXVII. THE TWO YEARS' SIEGE BEGINS 277
XXVIII. THE SECOND ARCHER ANNOUNCES HIMSELF 284
XXIX. CONRAD VENTURES HIS LIFE FOR HIS LOVE 294
XXX. THE STRUGGLE IN THE DARK 304
XXXI. BRAVE NEWS OF THE EMPEROR 313
XXXII. "FOR YOUR LOVE I WOULD DEFY FATE." 327
XXXIII. A GRIM INTERRUPTION TO A LOVERS' MEETING 336
XXXIV. THE BLACK COUNT'S DEFIANCE 351
XXXV. THE NIGHT ESCAPE OF THE EMPEROR 363
XXXVI. THE FIVE BILLETLESS ARROWS 371
XXXVII. THE TRAITOR AND HIS PRICE 378
XXXVIII. THE INCOGNITO FALLS 385
XXXIX. THE EMPEROR AT THE HEAD OF HIS ARMY 396
XL. THE ARCHBISHOPS ENVIRONED WITH A RING OF IRON 403
XLI. "WHY HAVE YOU DARED TO LEVY WAR?" 413
XLII. TEKLA REPLENISHES HER WARDROBE 423
XLIII. THE COUNTESS AND THE EMPEROR 429
TEKLA.
CHAPTER I.
THE EMPEROR ENTERS TREVES.
The Romans had long since departed, but their handiwork remained--a thin
line laid like a whiplash across the broad country--a road. It extended
northwestward from Frankfort and passed, as straight as might be,
through the almost trackless forest that lay to the south of Moselle;
for the great highway-builders had little patience with time-consuming
curves; thus the road ranged over hill and down dale without shirking
whatever came before it. Nearing the western terminus, it passed along
high lands, through a level unbroken forest. A wayfarer, after
travelling many monotonous leagues, came suddenly to an opening in the
timber, and found himself on the brow of a hill, confronted with a scene
amazing in extent, well calculated to arrest his progress and cause him
to regard with admiration, the wide spread landscape beneath and beyond.
The scene was the more startling that it burst unexpectedly on the view,
after miles of trees that seemed innumerable, hemming in, with their
unvarying cloak of green, the outlook of the traveller.
At the brow of the hill there had paused two men, excellently mounted,
who now, with slackened rein, allowed their evidently exhausted horses
to stand, while they gazed upon this prospect. The younger man was
slightly in advance of his comrade, and sat easily on his horse, with
hand on hip; while the other, an arm extended, was pointing to the city
lying far below. The age of the former might have been anything between
twenty-five and thirty-five: he was, in truth, twenty-eight years old at
the time he first came within sight of this western city. He wore the
dress of a young gallant of that period, with a light rapier by his
side, but was otherwise unarmed. His costume indicated no special
distinction, and would not have prepared a listener for the manner in
which his fellow-traveller addressed him.
"That, your Majesty," he said, "is the ancient town of Treves."
The young Emperor turned his eyes from the city to his companion.
"It may be well to remember, Siegfried," he said, speaking slowly, "that
his Majesty is now far from here on his way to the Holy Land, and that
he who has, for the first time, looked upon Treves, is plain Rodolph the
traveller, abroad to see something of the land the Emperor is supposed
to rule, and which his loyal subjects, the Archbishops of Treves and
Cologne, intend to rule for him."
Siegfried bowed low and said, "I will remember," checking himself barely
in time from repeating again the title of his listener.
"A trifle less deference, I beg of you, Siegfried. An erect head and a
tongue not too civil may make my way easier in the fair city of Treves.
Where flows the Moselle?"
"Between that cliff and the city. You may see it yonder to the right,
below the town, and again along the plain in the distance above it."
"Is that the Archbishop's palace in the wall?"
"No, it is the Black Gate of the Romans. The palace of the Archbishop
lies to the south by the Roman Basilica yonder. The cathedral whose
spire you see, stands midway between the Porta Nigra and the palace."
"Think you we may be questioned narrowly when we enter?"
"Oh, no. Many come because of the Archbishop's Court, which is said to
outshine the Emperor's at Frankfort."
"Ah, that is better, Siegfried. Now is the Emperor indeed well on his
way to meet the infidel Saracen when we talk freely of him in his
absence. Shall we then pass unchallenged through the gate?"
"Without doubt. There is also much traffic of trade between Frankfort
and Treves, and interchange of visitors."
"We met but few on the road, Siegfried."
"True. The traffic is mainly by the river. Merchants frequent the boats
going down, but many traverse the road from Frankfort. Had we been
journeying eastward we should have met more travellers."
"That sounds like a riddle, Siegfried. There must be a glut of Frankfort
horses in Treves, if all their riders return by boat."
"The horses go by boat as well to Coblentz, then are ridden along the
Rhine to Frankfort."
"Ah, that is the solution, is it? Well, let us get on to Treves, and try
our fortune at cozening the guards if we are questioned."
Downward rode the two, toward the ancient city, the horses refreshed by
the halt at the top of the hill. The great cliff by the side of the
unseen Moselle seemed to rise higher and higher into the sky as they
descended, until it stood like a huge rampart over the walled town.
Reaching level ground again, the riders took a westerly direction,
bending their course so that they might enter the city by the northern
gate. As they approached, it became evident that a throng was gathered
on each side of the port, the way in the centre being kept clear by
mounted soldiery.
"You are versed in the manners of Treves," said the Emperor, "knowing
all of note within its walls--what think you then is going forward at
the gate? Is it well for us to attempt entrance now, or are we more
likely to pass unnoticed in the press?"
"It is probable that the Archbishop and his train are about to pass
outward to his villa or water palace, as some call it. He travels in
state, and there are always many onlookers."
"Where is his water palace?"
"On the Moselle, near Zurlauben, a short half-hour's ride from the
gate."
"This then gives us excellent opportunity of seeing Arnold von Isenberg,
Archbishop of Treves, ourselves unseen in the throng. Shall we wait his
coming outside or inside the gate?"
"We were better outside, I think, for then we may enter unquestioned
with the press of people when the show is over."
Thus the two horsemen ranged themselves by the side of the road with
others also on horseback, merchants, travellers, messengers and the
like, while the crowd on foot shifted here and there to find standing
room that commanded a view. Mounted men-at-arms rode hither and thither,
roughly keeping the way clear and the mob in check, buffeting with their
pike-handles those who were either reluctant or slow to move. The
clattering of horses' shod hoofs on the stone-paved narrow street within
the gate announced the coming of the cortège.
"Off with your hat, fellow," cried one of the men-at-arms, raising his
pike. "His Lordship, the Archbishop, comes."
Rodolph's quick hand sought his sword-hilt, but a touch on his arm from
his comrade recalled him to a sense of his position. He changed the
downward motion of his hand to an upward one, and speedily doffed his
cap, seeing now that every one else was uncovered, for the haughty
Archbishop allowed no disrespect abroad when he took an airing.
First came a troop of landsknecht, numbering perhaps a score, then, with
an interval between, the Archbishop and his train, followed at a slight
distance by another score of horsemen.
Arnold von Isenberg sat upright on his black charger, looking much more
the soldier than the churchman. On the further side of him rode a
middle-aged nobleman, with whom the Archbishop now and then exchanged a
word. Count Bertrich never could have been handsome, and the red scar
from a sabre cut over his nose had in no way added to his personal
attractions, but his fame throughout the land as a fighter of both skill
and courage, caused him to be reckoned a favourite with the electoral
prelate, who had usually more need of warriors round him than of the
numerous court gallants who followed in his train, and were now
conversing in low tones with the ladies who accompanied them. But
whether the softness of their words was caused by the tender import of
them, or whether they feared to intrude their voices on the conversation
or the meditations of the Archbishop, the onlooking but unnoticed
Emperor could not have guessed, had his curiosity been aroused to
inquire. Rumour had it that the Archbishop intended to bestow on Count
Bertrich the hand, and incidentally, the broad lands of his ward, who
rode at his right hand, and if this were true the girl showed little
pleasure over it, to judge by the small heed she gave either to the
crowd that lined the road on each side or to those who accompanied her
in the august procession. She seemed neither to see nor to hear aught
that went on around her, but with eyes looking straight forward, and a
slight frown on her fair brow, rode onward in silence, a marked contrast
to the prattling train which followed her. Meanwhile, von Isenberg spoke
with the Count, who bent his head deferentially to listen, and perhaps
while doing so, to glance across the charger's mane at the proud and
beautiful girl, who rode on the other side of the Archbishop, heedless
of glance or conversation.
When the procession had passed, the young Emperor sat looking after it,
bonnet still in hand, with an absorbed expression on his face. And well
might he gaze long at the iron Archbishop, for he had come on a weary
journey to see that potentate, and judge for himself what manner of man
he might be who was reported to have remarked to his brother Archbishop
of Cologne, when he cast the vote which helped to make Rodolph an
emperor, that the young man was said to be a romantic fool, who would be
the more easily led by their Lordships of Treves and Cologne, than any
older and more seasoned noble. Therefore had it been given out that the
new Emperor was gone to smite the Saracen, whereas he had merely
journeyed from Frankfort to Treves in disguise, to look upon a man who
might prove more formidable to his peace than the fiercest Saracen
roaming the plains of the East. Siegfried, who, though so much older,
was Rodolph's confidential friend, seemed anxious to know the estimate
the Emperor had formed of his probable adversary.
"A hard, stern face," said Siegfried. "A cold friend and an implacable
enemy, to judge by the glance I got of him. What think you?"
"An adorable face," murmured the young man, absently, still gazing after
the rapidly disappearing cortège. "A face to dream over; to die for. Who
is she, Siegfried?"
"The Countess Tekla," answered Siegfried, somewhat briefly and grimly,
for here their expedition, not without peril, undertaken against his
strongly urged advice, was turned from its purpose, at this critical
moment, by a passing glimpse of a pretty face. Perhaps, after all, the
Archbishop had made the remark attributed to him, and Rodolph seemed
determined on the most inopportune occasion, to give colour to it.
"But who is she?" demanded the Emperor, covering again.
"The Countess Tekla is the ward of the Archbishop. Her father died in
his service and is said to have been the only man Arnold von Isenberg
ever had any affection for. The sole living relative she has, so far as
known to me, is Count Heinrich, surnamed the Black, of Castle Thuron,
near Coblentz. Her mother was sister to the Black Count."
"That marauder! No wonder she was not left his ward."
"There was little love lost between her father and her uncle. 'Tis said
Heinrich tried to get possession of Tekla and has even had the temerity
to threaten an attack upon the Archbishop because of her, but he is
hardly likely to do more than bluster, for, however much the Count may
lack common honesty, he is not devoid of common sense, and well knows
that Arnold could crush him in his castle as a snail is crushed in its
shell under an iron heel."
"The Countess Tekla," murmured the Emperor, more to himself than to his
companion. "She is the most beautiful vision that ever floated before
the eyes of man."
"She is betrothed to Count Bertrich, who rode at the Archbishop's left
hand," said Siegfried, coldly.
"What! To that florid image carved with a broadsword? I cannot believe
it. 'Twould be sacrilege."
"Rodolph, since you allow me to call you so," replied Siegfried,
solemnly, "I have also heard that you yourself are hardly free."
"It is false," cried the young man, hotly. "I am pledged to none. Such
thought is utterly baseless. The Princess herself would be the first to
disclaim it."
"I mentioned no one."
"Perhaps not. 'Tis false nevertheless."
Two pikes, crossed, barred their entrance under the archway of the gate.
"Where from?"
"Frankfort."
"Your purpose in Treves?"
"We are two silk merchants."
"Your papers."
Siegfried handed down the documents to the officer who demanded them.
He scrutinised them closely, and, apparently satisfied, returned them.
"What news from Frankfort? How fares our new Emperor?" he asked.
"He has betaken himself to the Holy Wars," answered Siegfried.
"By the Coat then, and are there not blows enough for him in Germany
without going abroad for them? I heard he was more gallant than
soldier."
"It is not true," said Siegfried, with some sternness.
"Soldier and gallant too, my friend," interjected Rodolph, fearing that
Siegfried's loyalty might lead him to indulge in censure which might
prove impolitic on the part of those seeking entrance, to those who were
the guardians of a gate. "Surely the two trades have gone hand in hand
before now?"
"Aye, and will again," laughed the officer, twirling his moustache.
Baron Siegfried von Brunfels now led the way through a narrow street,
riding confidently, like a man well acquainted with his direction.
Avoiding the main thoroughfare which led to the north gate, he turned
into what seemed little more than a lane, and now the horsemen were
compelled to travel in file, as the way was not broad enough for two
horses conveniently to walk abreast. Neither were there houses on each
side, as was the case with the street they had just left, but instead,
blank walls, such as might surround convents or monasteries, as indeed
they did. So high were these enclosing barriers, that Rodolph on his
horse could not see over them, and he had the feeling of a man making
his way along the deep bottom of a huge ditch, which impression was
intensified by the gathering gloom of approaching night. The lane,
continually bending toward the right of the riders, came at last to what
was quite evidently the city wall, and on this abutted the lesser wall
of the monastery grounds on the right, while that on the left ran for
some distance parallel to the more lofty ring of stout masonry which
encircled the city, leaving a narrow space between. The ringing sound of
the iron-shod hoofs on the stone causeway echoed from the ramparts in
the deep stillness. In the distance a large mansion built against the
city wall, stood across the way and ended the lane. The windows were
shuttered and heavily barred with iron, giving the building a
forbidding, prison-like appearance. The lane terminated at a strong
arched gate, with heavy double doors of oak, iron-bolted, in one leaf of
which was a shuttered grating that, being lifted, enabled those within
to see all who approached. The bastion to the left ended against the
side of this sinister house.
"By the gods, Baron," cried the Emperor, "it is well I have confidence
in you, for never was man guided along a more death-trap road to such a
sepulchre-looking ending. What fortress have we here, Siegfried? This is
no inn, surely."
The Baron half turned in his saddle, and spoke in a voice so low that
its tone alone was a hint against unnecessary conversation.
"It is my house," he said. "You will be better served and less spied
upon than at an inn."
A moment later the Baron, stopping at the archway, but without
dismounting, reached out his hand and pulled an iron rod which had a
loop lower down for the convenience of one on foot. The faint clanging
of a bell, jangling far within, could be heard. After the echoes died
away there was a perceptible interval, then the shutter behind the
grating was noiselessly lifted with some caution, and a pair of eyes
appeared and disappeared at the iron network. Instantly the gates were
flung open and were as speedily closed when the horsemen had ridden into
a courtyard.
Having parted with their tired steeds, host and guest, hardly less weary
with their ride, mounted one broad stairway and two narrower ones, then
walked along a passage that led them to a door, on opening which,
Siegfried conducted the Emperor into a large square apartment lighted
by two windows heavily barred outside. The inside shutters were open,
and Rodolph looked over an extensive landscape bounded by red cliffs and
green hills, at the foot of which flowed the rapid Moselle. Although the
sun had gone down and the view was growing indistinct in the twilight,
Rodolph went to one of the windows and gazed admiringly upon the
prospect. The moon, nearly at the full, had risen, and was already
flooding the scene with her silvery light.
"You have a pleasant outlook here, Siegfried," said the Emperor.
"Yes, and a safe one."
"A safe one?" echoed Rodolph, inquiringly.
"You see this house is a story higher than the city wall. A rope flung
from that window gives a hurried man safe conduct to the open country
without the necessity of passing through a gate."
"True," said the Emperor, with a smile; "but your hurried man would lose
some valuable time in filing through these stout bars. He would be a
ghost indeed to pass between them."
"Not if he knew their secret."
Saying this, Siegfried laid hold of an iron stanchion, one of two that
stood perpendicular on either side of the window-aperture from top to
ledge, pressed against the thick stone wall. The stanchion left the
stone under Siegfried's efforts, and proved to be shaped like an
elongated letter E, with three bolts of equal length that fitted into
three holes drilled in the side of the window-opening, one at top and
bottom, and the third in the middle. The Baron pushed outward the heavy
iron grating, which swung on hinges, pulling from the wall three bars
with round loops at the end of each, into which the three bolts had
interlocked when the grating was closed, and the E-like stanchion placed
in position.
"A most ingenious arrangement," cried the Emperor, "lacking only the
rope."
"A rope lies there," said Siegfried, kicking the coil with his foot,
where it rested on the floor and had escaped notice in the gathering
darkness. "It is fastened to a ring in the wall."
"What a device for a lover!" exclaimed Rodolph.
"It is intended for a man's safety rather than his danger," said
Siegfried, with the slightest possible touch of austerity in his voice.
The Emperor laughed.
"Nevertheless," he said, "had I my lady-love in this house, I would
prefer that she knew not the secret of this window. But why all these
precautions, Baron? They have not been put here because I am your
visitor, for I think the grate moved rustily upon its hinges."
"No, the window has been as you see it these many years. I do not know
its history. I suspect that my father found it convenient sometimes to
slip out of Treves without much ado, for I know he felt safer on
occasion in our strong Rhine castle than in this sometimes turbulent
city. I have not interfered with the device, although I have seldom had
need of it. I even keep up an old custom of our house, disliking change
as all my forefathers have done, although I have never profited by it."
"What old custom?"
"The stationing of a sentinel night and day in a small room above where
we stand. When he sees a light in yonder house by the river, or hears by
night or day the cry of a waterfowl that frequents the upper Rhine, but
which is unknown on the Moselle, he instantly comes down to this room,
throws open the casement and flings out the rope. Although as I said, I
have never had actual need of this method of exit or entrance, I have,
nevertheless, tested the vigilance of my servants, and have climbed in
hand over hand."
"Another question, Baron, and forgive my curiosity. How is it that you,
a noble and a householder in Treves, enter the gates as a silk merchant
unchallenged? Surely the Archbishop keeps slack guard."
"Although I know many of those about the Archbishop's Court, I am myself
practically unknown. I attend once a year, perhaps, a formal function in
Treves, but it is generally supposed I am in my castle on the Rhine, or
at Frankfort, which is indeed the case. My house attracts no attention,
for it has belonged to my family for centuries. And now, your Majesty,
the room adjoining this, and connected with it, I design for your
sleeping apartment, and I trust you will rest well there."
"One more question, Siegfried, in punishment for the title you have
bestowed upon me; that house by the river--is it also yours?"
"Yes. A small place, but in some respects the complement of this. I keep
there a fast horse, and a swift skiff, so that the man in a hurry, of
whom I spoke, may betake himself either to the road or the river as best
falls in with his humour or necessity."
"By the gods, Baron, and should we find it necessary to enter into a
conspiracy against the great Arnold von Isenberg, we are reasonably well
provided for any emergency."
"It is said there is nothing entirely useless in this world, Rodolph,"
answered the other, drily.
The Baron drew in the grating, replaced the three-bolted stanchion, and
finally closed the inside shutters. A servant announced dinner, and
Rodolph betook himself to his room to prepare for it.