CASTLE THURON MAKES A FULL MEAL.
The sun, shining through one of the narrow slits in the circular wall,
striking on Rodolph's face, woke him next morning, and when he sat on
his straw pallet he saw that the door had been unbarred and thrown
partly open. He walked down into the quiet courtyard, with its neglected
garden, and glanced up at the windows of the suite of rooms which the
women of the castle inhabited, but saw no signs of any of them. Passing
through a hall he entered the outer courtyard, where the day before he
had dismounted after his journey. The gates were wide apart, and the
courtyard itself looked like a city market-place. The scene was one of
hurry and animation. The enclosure was filled with rude carts, and with
lowing cows and oxen that had drawn them, steaming after the exertion of
dragging their heavy loads up the steep hill. A procession of others,
waiting their turn, extended through the gateway and along the hillside
road that led to it. The Black Count himself superintended the intake of
sacks of grain and casks of wine, estimating rather than accurately
measuring their value, and paying with his own hand for what was thus
brought to his doors. Count Heinrich, like many other nobles of his
time, had the right to coin gold and silver, and his mint-master had
been busy all night striking off pieces of different sizes, each with a
rude effigy of the Count on one face of the coin, and its value in Roman
numerals on the other.
Heinrich seemed to be driving generous bargains, loudly demanding what
the owner thought his contribution worth, and when the sum was
tremblingly named, giving often more than was asked, but never less. He
acted like a man who had long defied public opinion, but who now, for
reasons of his own, preferred to court it, not knowing how soon he might
be in some measure dependent upon it. Rodolph learned that before
midnight the wine from the upper valley had begun to come in, and that
the Count, having been in council with his captains until that hour, had
gone forth to make payment by torchlight, while his mint-master sent him
from the cellars of the castle, bags of currency still warm from the
crucible. Heinrich showed no sign of fatigue, but was as alert as any,
standing on the stone steps that led to the castle door, a head or more
above the throng, while two secretaries counted out the sums he demanded
and handed them to him from the bags at his feet. His eagle eye covered
the whole scene, and now and then when the incomers and outgoers became
jammed in an apparently indissolvable tangle, wheels interlocking, and
goads falling ineffectually on the patient backs of the cattle, the
Count with stentorian voice and eloquent gesture would command one to
back here, another to go forward there, whereupon the knot would be
speedily unloosed and the business go forward as it should.
If the stout Heinrich had little mercy on himself he had none at all on
his servitors. Panting men struggled with heavy sacks on their backs,
disappearing through the open archway that led to the cellars, emerging
empty handed, drawing sleeve across sweating brow, to bend back
instantly under a fresh burden and return. Full casks of wine were
rolled and lowered out of sight, as if the castle were some huge
open-jawed monster who was swallowing a gigantic meal with little sign
of repletion. Did a man pause but a moment to fill his lungs with the
fresh morning air, the all-encompassing eye of the master had singled
him out and a roar of rage made all within hearing tremble. It was
evident that peasant and servitor alike, officer and foot soldier, were
in deadly terror of the Black Count.
Rodolph made his way up to the battlements and looked down on this
stirring scene. Then he walked along the walls to gain some idea of the
castle's strength and situation. There was a broad level promenade
parallel to the river front, protected by a strong machicolated parapet.
The promenade ran due north and south, and was nearly a hundred yards in
length. At each end of the castle, but some distance back from the
front, rose a round tower, the north tower being slightly lower than its
brother. Behind the north tower was a precipitous wooded cliff falling
steeply down to the little river Thaurand. The northern, eastern, and
southern sides of the slope, at the top of which the castle stood, were
densely wooded. The western slope, descending some hundreds of feet to
the Moselle, was covered with vines, through which, beginning near the
northern end of the stronghold, ran at steep incline the stout wall that
ended at the river, carrying on its back here and there a stumpy square
stone guard-house. Clustered at the foot of this wall, and stretching
along the edge of the Moselle, lay the small village of Alken, over
which was thrown the dark shadow of the Black Count's castle. Beyond it
flowed the broad smooth river, placid as a sheet of glass, reflecting,
far down, the forest-covered hills of its western bank.
At the junction of the hollow river wall with the castle, there stood on
the terrace, at either side of the up-springing causeway, a huge, clumsy
catapult, one commanding the northern face of the wall coming up from
the river, the other the southern side. Here and there, at the edge of
the promenade furthest from the parapet, were piled, with some attempt
at symmetry, many hundreds of round pieces of granite, each considerably
larger than a man's head, and each weighing as much as a man might care
to lift. These spheres were ammunition for the catapult, and Rodolph saw
that the Count appreciated not only the necessity of guarding his way to
the river, but also the difficulty the Archbishop's men would find, in
the face of hurling granite, to force a breach in the stonework. All in
all, Arnold had a hard nut to crack in Castle Thuron, defended as it was
by a man of resource and resolute determination.
On the opposite shore of the river Rodolph saw collected many ox-carts,
while the three boats which the day before had been drawn up on the bank
at Alken, were busy ferrying over the produce brought by the carts.
Sturdy villagers with bags on their backs were slowly plodding up the
hill to the castle, ignoring the zig-zag road, and coming steeply and
straight up the lanes between the rows of vines.
As Rodolph leaned against the stone parapet watching the villagers
crawling like laden ants up the slopes, he was accosted by the cheery
voice of the English archer.
"I hope you have slept well, my Lord," he said.
"Excellently. And you?"
"Never better. With the blue sky above me and my mind at peace with all
the world; a bed of moss and a sloping hillside, that the water may
speedily run away should a shower come on, no man can ask for better
resting-place."
"Good Heaven! The Count did not turn you thus inhospitably adrift on the
landscape surely? He has roof enough and room enough to give you some
choice of a sleeping chamber."
"Oh, the Count's intentions were doubtless fair enough; I make no
complaint of his Blackness. That he is uncivilised and knows nothing of
the courtesy that pertains to a guest, is the fault of his upbringing
and should not be justly charged against him. I was taken to a dark
vault and barred in, the which I never can put up with, unless I am a
legal prisoner, and even then only if it fall in with my convenience. I
had some thought of slaying my jailor and taking his head with me to the
Count, to demand an unbarred door, but the rascal was too quick for me,
and before I fathomed his inhospitable intent, had thrust bolt in
socket, himself safely on the outside, scorning my protestations. A
fastened door gives me a sense of suffocation that I find ill to abide.
I tested the door by various expedients which lie at the hand of an
experienced soldier, but found it proof against them all. Window there
was none, but the open chimney gave me a speedy way, working with hands
and knees, to the roof. The moon, just past the full, was shining
brightly, and at some risk to my bones I got from roof to lower roof,
and so at last to the battlements, where by trusting my body somewhat
precipitously to the top of a tree, I won my road to the ground outside
the castle. There I made myself a bed and was awakened as a man should
be, by the singing of the birds, after a most refreshing night of it. I
wandered about in the forest testing the different trees to find timber
for the making of arrows, or a bow if need be, although I found little
suitable for the latter. With these branches of timber I presented
myself at the entrance gate to the no small amazement of the guards, and
found all in a bustle, with the buying and selling of grain. Henry
Schwart espied me as soon as I entered, notwithstanding the throng, and
he roared out how the devil I came there, and who had unbarred the door,
whereat I laughed at him, and said they kept such loose watch at Thuron
that an industrious man might have cut all their throats while they
slept, had he been so minded, and this brought greater blackness into
Heinrich's face than I had hitherto seen there."
"If a suggestion does you any good," said Rodolph, with some severity,
"I would not make his Lordship the subject of mirth."
"Indeed, my Lord, your words are full of wisdom, which I marvel at
considering your youth; but with me it is usually the word first and the
thought after, which may be likened to putting the cart before the cow,
as they would say in these parts. No; I saw that Heinrich did not enjoy
my merriment, but what was I to do when the laugh had already echoed
from the stone walls, and was thus beyond recall. He sent one messenger
to my room, and another to yours, with instructions to leave your door
open and unbarred, which seemed to show that the Black Count may still
be judiciously taught by good example. The messenger to your room
reported you to be sleeping soundly, while the one to mine said the door
was still bolted, which was undoubtedly true, for I had not meddled with
it. But I much fear, as you have already hinted, that I have forfeited
the love Heinrich bore me yesterday, when I pointed an arrow at his
heart, for when I asked permission to go to Treves (granted that I
received your leave) he opened his eyes till they were round as targets,
and cried that he would see me in the region of the condemned with
pleasure, but not to Treves, which I took as an ill-natured remark,
given coarsely as he put it."
"To Treves? Why to Treves of all places in the world? How could you
expect Count Heinrich to permit you to go to Treves from this castle
when he is in momentary anticipation of being besieged by Treves?"
"I told him I should return unless I was decapitated by the Archbishop
or Count Bertrich, in which case he could hardly look to me to keep my
tryst with him. I have a friend whom I left near Treves, from whence, if
I succeeded in getting employment, I was to send him word, so that he
too might have a place beside me. In case of not hearing from me he was
to betake himself to Treves and there make inquiry regarding me; that, I
fear, he has done, or is about to do, and I wish to engage him on my
side in this quarrel. It has been our fate this many a year to be in
opposing camps, and thus not only are we deprived of each other's
company, but our lives are placed in jeopardy, each through the
marksmanship of the other; and while I should as fain take my departure
from this world on one of Roger's shafts as otherwise, yet it would
grieve him ever after, for he is a tender hearted man as ever let fly
unerring arrow. It would greatly advantage Black Heinrich, had he but
sense to see it, to let me go to Treves and bring back Roger Kent with
me."
"Is he then an archer also? There surely cannot be two such."
"No, there is none like him. He regards me as his most promising pupil,
but that is merely because of his fondness for me, who will patiently
listen to the poetry he makes."
"Is he a poet as well? Such a man, if he betters you in shooting, must
write most stirringly of war."
"He is the greatest of poets, for so he himself admitted to me. He
writes poetry that no man on earth can understand, and if that be sign
of greatness, it must be as he says. He has slight conceit of himself as
an archer, in which craft I know him to be unequalled, but I am no judge
of his verses, although they read most soothingly and put a man to sleep
when aught else fails. He writes not of war, my Lord, but of love. He
indites verses to many foreign virgins of ancient times, whose very
names I am never able to remember, and he has marvellous pages on the
birds and the woods and mosses, and all flowers that grow, which, he
says, speak to him in a language of their own, and that I can well
believe, for I have no understanding of it. And he has penned many
touching lines on the blessings of peace, though how he could earn his
threepence a day if peace abounded, is something which even he, poet as
he is, cannot explain."
"I think such a soldier would be an acquisition to our garrison, and I
shall see whether Count Heinrich can be persuaded to allow you a visit
in Treves, although I can well understand his reluctance, fearing the
losing of so valuable an archer as yourself. I also have a message to
send to Treves, so perhaps we shall prevail on the Count to think better
of his decision. You gave me the name of your friend, but I have never
yet learned your own."
"I am called John Surrey, my Lord. I am Saxon, as you may see, but Roger
is a Norman, tall and thin and nearly as black as Heinrich himself. We
should be enemies and not friends, for the Normans conquered the
Saxons, but as that conquest is now some time past, and I saw not how to
better the matter by my interference so long as the Normans had such
archers as Roger; and as he could get none of his own countrymen to
listen to his poetry, we had need of each other, and our only grievance
is that we fight usually on opposite sides, the which I should in this
instance amend if the Count but let me to Treves before the Archbishop
has Roger enlisted. If there is a tumult in Treves and men are called
for, he will be one of the first to offer himself, thinking to find me
in the ranks, for he knows that it was to take service with Arnold that
I journeyed forth."
"I have, as I said, a message to send to Treves, so I shall speak to the
Count on behalf of your mission, but I doubt if he will risk the loss of
one archer like you on the remote chance of gaining two such later."
"Am I then in the Count's service and not in yours? Have you transferred
me to him, my Lord?"
"Not so. You are at present my archer regiment, which I hope to increase
in number as opportunity serves, but we must now do our best to aid the
Count, having helped in some measure to bring on his dilemma."
"With right good will, my Lord, so be it that he treats a man not as a
slave or prisoner, and if it come to hanging, or the like, I would
rather be hanged by you than by the Count."
Rodolph smiled and said:
"You may be sure I shall not deliver up to the Count whatever rights I
possess regarding your fate. I have always insisted on the esteemed
privilege of hanging my own men; it is not an advantage I would
willingly bestow upon another."
"In that your Lordship is wise," answered the bowman, soberly, "for the
relinquishing of apparently trivial pretensions is generally followed by
increased encroachment. I shall now bid your Lordship good morning, for
I must betake myself to the workshops of the castle and there teach a
knave Heinrich has given me, the proper making of arrows, the which is
likely to be a task of some duration, for the rascal does not seem
over-bright, and the Germans have little skill, at best, in the accurate
manufacture of shafts, and the correct balancing of them. I hold it well
to prepare for the coming of the Archbishop, and meet him with suitable
offerings, lest he suspect us of disrespect to his high station."
"I hope he will appreciate your thoughtfulness," said the Emperor,
whereupon the archer descended from the battlements.
Rodolph rested his arms on the parapet and gazed at the peasants toiling
slowly up the incline from the river with their burdens. As the sun rose
higher and higher the shadow of the great castle also moved
imperceptibly up the slope, as if emulating the labourers. The houses of
Alken, closely packed together, as was the case with all mediæval
villages, stood brilliantly out in the sunshine, now that the shadow of
the castle was removed from them. In the clear air every stone of the
place stood distinctly out, and it seemed so surprisingly near that one
might have imagined he had but to stretch down his hand and touch its
roofs. From its streets came up the merry laughter of children, joyous
at the unusual bustle going forward, having not the slightest idea of
the ominous meaning which the hurrying to and fro brought to older
minds.
A musical greeting caused the Emperor to start from his reverie and turn
suddenly round. The Countess Tekla stood before him, smiling, and
seeming herself a spirit of the morning. To Rodolph she appeared to be
robed magnificently, and he wondered how she came by all this finery,
which suited her so well, making her look the great lady she undoubtedly
was. Notwithstanding her youth, there was an unconscious dignity about
her that awed him, even though he was accustomed to the splendour of the
grand dames who thronged his now deserted Court at Frankfort. Could
this be the girl who had come through such rough usage with him from
Treves to Thuron, standing now like a fair goddess of the Moselle in her
queenly beauty? Here was one indeed to fight for and to die for, if
necessity arose, thinking oneself blessed for the privilege. Her head
was coroneted by a semi-circular band of gold, encrusted with jewels.
Behind her fair neck the rich profusion of hair was kept in bounds by a
clasp of finely-wrought silver, from which imprisonment it then flowed
unimpeded, the colour of ripened wheat, each thread apparently spun from
the golden beams of the sun itself. It covered her like a mantle, making
even the embroidered splendour of her gown seem poor by comparison.
To this radiant vision so unexpectedly risen before him, the Emperor
bowed with the slow, lowly deference of a courtier to his monarch,
speechless for the moment through the emotions that stirred within him.
The girl laughed merrily at his confusion.
"You must not so critically regard me, my Lord," she said. "My wardrobe
is elsewhere, as you know, and I have been compelled to explore this
grim castle for the wherewithal to attire myself, finding more of coats
of mail than of ladies' adornments, for it is long since feminine vanity
dwelt herein, so I have been compelled to piece out this with that, to
make myself presentable, and I feel like one engaged in a masquerade,
tricking myself out as they tell me the ladies do at some grand function
given by the Emperor at Frankfort."
"My Lady, the Emperor's Court is lit by candles; I stand now in the
radiance of the sun."
The lady turned her dancing eyes upon him.
"If that is a compliment, my Lord, 'tis fit for Frankfort itself; if it
merely refers to the undoubted fact that the sun is shining bravely on
you, and that the Court is dim by comparison, think not you will deter
me from going there, for I should dearly love to witness the pageantry
of the capital."
"Indeed, Countess, if you fail to do so it will not be through lack of
invitation."
"When invitation comes I shall eagerly accept it."
"I sincerely trust you will, my Lady."
"Perhaps you also will be there, and may not have forgotten me. If I see
you, I shall ask you to point out to a stranger those who are notable."
"Such is my most devout wish, although I lacked the courage to give
expression to it."
"But I breathe a warning to you. My uncle tells me you spoke slightingly
of the Emperor last night. I was grieved to hear it, for I am a loyal
subject of his, and were I a man, would draw sword, did any in my
presence allude to the head of the state in other terms than those of
respect."
"Knowing your pleasure, I shall be careful not to offend again. Still,
in my own defence, I should like to say that I spoke only of faults that
the Emperor himself would be the first to admit. An Emperor should be an
Emperor, and not a nonentity whose wish commands but slight attention."
The lady drew herself up, a slight frown marring the smoothness of her
brow.
"You pay little heed to my request, and while professing to comply,
offend the more. A loyal noble would scarce call his Emperor a
nonentity."
"Look around you, Countess. Here are going forward busy preparations for
war. Does the Count appeal to his over-lord against the suspected
incursion of the Archbishop? 'Twould be grotesque to hint that such a
thought ever occurred to him. Does the Archbishop send an envoy to
Frankfort acquainting the Emperor with his purpose and asking leave to
launch an army against Thuron? Not so. He doffs his clerical vestments
and dons a coat of mail, as mindless of the Emperor as if no such person
existed. Here red-handed war is about to open within a day's journey of
the capital, in the centre of the Emperor's domains, and if he ever
hears of it, 'twill be because some friend tells him. That jumps not
with my idea of the high office."
"But the Emperor is at the Holy War in foreign lands."
"Then should he instead stand where I stand, in the midst of the unholy
war in his own land, to stop it or to guide it."
"If you think thus," said the girl, perplexed at the confident tone of
the young man, and forgetting the censure she had just pronounced upon
him, "why have you left his side? Why do you not say to him what you say
of him to me?"
"Indeed, my Lady," replied Rodolph with a laugh, "I have but little
influence with his Majesty. Often has he pursued a course that has not
met with my approval, being turned aside from great policies of state by
the sight of a pretty face. You could sway him, Countess, where I should
be helpless. But I know that he has lately met one, who can if she
likes, make a great Emperor of him, should he prove capable of a
distinguished career, so my part in his reformation will count for
little."
"Then she will do so, of course, and be proud of the opportunity," cried
the Countess, eagerly.
"Perhaps. Who can tell what a woman may do? It is my earnest hope that
she prove not unwilling."
"Is she beautiful?"
"The divinest--yes, she is accounted so."
In spite of Tekla's enthusiasm for the welfare of her Emperor, the
ardour with which the young man began his eulogy regarding the unknown
lady in question, and the quick suppression of the same, did not escape
her notice, nor did it bring that satisfaction which a moment before
Tekla had anticipated. She turned her eyes from him and allowed them to
wander over the wide and peaceful landscape, whose beauty was so much
enhanced by the winding, placid river.
Then she said suddenly, obviously apropos of the labouring peasants:
"We shall be in little danger of starvation in Thuron, unless the siege
be long."
"I am not so sure of that," replied Rodolph. "I had no supper last
night, and this morning none has said to me 'This is the way to the
dining hall.'"
"Do you mean that you have not yet breakfasted?" cried Tekla, turning to
him with quick surprised interest. "And I have been standing here
censuring a hungry man. You must think our race a most ungrateful one."
"I had no such thought. But your mention of starvation reminded me that
I am rather in the condition of a famishing garrison myself."
"Then come with me at once. I will be your hostess, and will endeavour
to recompense you for the inhospitality of the castle. There is a
delightful balcony overlooking the quiet inner courtyard, and there we
shall spread your repast. Come."
The Emperor followed her, and presently arrived at the balcony she had
spoken of, overhanging the neglected garden. It was, indeed, a pleasant
spot in so stern a fortress, shut off by heavy velvet hangings from the
apartment out of which it projected and forming thus a little square
room half inside the castle and half in the open air.
Rodolph sat at the table with the Countess opposite him, while Hilda
waited on them. Tekla chatted as her _vis-à-vis_ broke his long fast.
"I intend to make this plot of ground my care, and, while all others are
busy fighting for me, I shall be peacefully engaged in gardening. I hope
to interest my aunt in horticulture. Poor woman, she seems to have
little to occupy her mind in this prison, and I fear her husband pays
scant attention to her. Him too I shall cultivate if I get an
opportunity. He has need of civilisation, for he scarce seems to believe
that women have a right to exist, and his wife has for years been so
patient and uncomplaining, that he has been confirmed in his neglect of
her."
"I have already cautioned my archer this morning not to encroach too
boldly on his Lordship's good nature, which the Count seems to have but
short stock of. May I venture to suggest that the task of reforming him
will be more safely accomplished perhaps when your Ladyship occupies
your strongest castle, with a stout garrison about you?"
"Have no fear, my Lord. He came to us last night and sat talking to me
as smoothly as if he were the Archbishop himself--in truth, much more
smoothly than the Archbishop has lately spoken. He sat there with his
elbow on the table looking fixedly at me, quite ignoring his wife, who
trembled with fear while he was in the room, and groaned aloud when I
spoke my mind to him on one or two occasions. He said that we two were
the only kin each had and should think much of each other. I told him
frankly I should be pleased to think much of him as soon as I saw
occasion to do so, but that what I had seen of him heretofore had not
made me proud of the kinship. My Lady caught her breath and looked
imploringly at me, but he, frowning, gazed sternly at me, first saying
nothing, then after a long silence muttering: 'I would you were a man,'
'Indeed, uncle,' I replied, 'such was my own wish this afternoon, when,
instead of throwing myself at your feet I might have drawn sword and
taught good manners in Thuron.' Then you should have seen him. His brow
was like midnight, and his eyes blazed. He started up in wrath, and I
little wondered that my Lady moaned and wrung her hands, but I laughed
and returned his look without flinching, although I may confess to you I
was as frightened as when in Cochem. But his frown cleared away, and
something almost resembling a twinkle came into his piercing eyes. I am
sure there was at least the beginning of a smile under his black beard
as he said, quite in kindly tone, 'We are, indeed, relatives, Tekla.' He
placed his hand on my head as if I were a little child, sighed, turned
on his heel and strode away without further farewell. My aunt gazed
wonderingly at me as if I had baited a bear, and had unexpectedly come
forth unscathed."
"Which is exactly my own opinion. I beg of you not to repeat the
experiment."
Tekla looked archly at him across the table, with a smile on her face
like the play of sunshine on the fair surface of the river.
"Why should I repeat it, my Lord? It is only men who do that, and as
your former advice was given to a man, it was of course well placed. A
man always repeats. Oh, I know his formula. First there is the haughty
word; next the sneering reply; then a mounting flush of anger to the
forehead, and hand on the hilt of the sword. It always ends with the
sword, for the men have little patience and less originality. With a
woman it must be different, for she carries no sword, and her ingenuity
is her only weapon. My dark uncle, when he reflects slowly on his
treatment, will come at last to a conclusion regarding what he shall do
when next I laugh at him. But when he visits us again I shall be most
kind to him, and he will learn with amaze how pleasant he finds it when
he acts less like a bear with his women folk. I shall take him to this
balcony and feed him tenderly. Hilda knows the method of preparing some
culinary dainties, which are common enough at Treves, but utterly
unknown at Thuron. On each occasion my dear uncle will find me
different, and whatever plan he prepares for one method of attack, will
be utterly useless when confronted with another. I can see he is an
unready man, and I shall never give him time to build up a line of
defence while he is with me. Oh, if the Archbishop attacks Thuron with
half the skill with which I shall besiege my uncle, then is the castle
doomed. And in the end you shall find that my dark uncle will so dearly
assess me that he will fight for me against a whole house of
Archbishops."
"I can well believe that," said Rodolph, with undisguised admiration.
Before Tekla could reply a wild cheer went up from the further
courtyard, echoed by a fainter cheer outside the castle. Rodolph started
to his feet and listened as the acclamations continued.
"Run, Hilda," cried the Countess. "Find the cause of the outcry and
bring us tidings of it."
When the girl breathlessly returned she said they were hoisting on the
great southern tower the broad flag of Thuron, and that the people were
cheering as if they were mad, but the cause of it all she could not
learn.
"The Archbishop's army is very likely in sight," said Rodolph, "although
how that can be, unless Arnold has sent it close on Bertrich's heels, I
cannot understand. Perhaps Bertrich has met it between the castle and
Cochem and has returned with it. Let us go and see."