A TWO-HANDED SWORD TEACHES DEPORTMENT.
The archer on guard in the Rittersaal stood with his back to the
doorway, bow ready to hand, his mouth pursed as if he were silently
whistling, his eyes upraised to the ceiling, seeing nothing and saying
nothing, as had been his orders. There was a look of seraphic calm on
his face, as if he had never spent a more enjoyable half-hour than that
which had just so tumultuously terminated.
In a short time the heavy curtains that concealed the entrance to the
room parted, and the Emperor reentered alone. His face was pale and his
lips were tightly drawn. The Count stopped in his walk at the further
end of the room, and turned to face the incomer.
"Well, my Lord," he said, a savage leer of triumph in his red eyes, "you
have seen, I hope, who is master of this castle. There have been
indications that you supposed I was to be cajoled by flattery into
relaxing my authority; but we shall have no more of that, I trust, and
there will hereafter be no question regarding whose will is law within
these walls."
"On the contrary, Count of Thuron," said Rodolph, with deferential
smoothness, "it is that very question I now propose to discuss with
you."
"I will have no more discussion," cried the Count, his anger returning.
"There shall be nothing but the giving of orders here and the prompt
obedience of them."
"Ah, in that I quite follow your Lordship, and have great pleasure for
once in agreeing entirely with the valiant Count of the lower Moselle.
Archer, close the doors and bar them."
The archer, a smile coming into his cherubic face, dived behind the
hangings and disappeared.
"Hold!" roared the Count. "Stand to your guard, and obey no orders but
mine."
There came from behind the curtains the clanking sound of the two heavy
oaken leaves clashing together, then the shooting of bolts and the
down-coming of the weighty timber bar, capable of standing almost any
assault likely to be made against them. Again the rich hangings parted
and the archer stood once more before them, his eyes on the ceiling and
lips prepared to whistle.
"Do you mean to defy me in my own hall of Thuron?" said the Count, in
low, threatening tones, glaring luridly from under his bushy black brows
at his opponent.
"Oh, defiance is a cheap commodity, and I have heard much of it since I
entered this castle. Of ranting and of shouting I have had enough. I
propose now to see what capable action is at the back of all this
plenitude of wind."
The wall to the right was covered with many weapons and hung with
armour. The Emperor took down a huge two-handed sword, similar to the
terrific weapon Beilstein's captain had used so futilely against him at
Bruttig. He held it in both hands and seemed to estimate the weight of
it, shaking it before him. Then with the point of this sword placed
under a similar weapon that hung against the wall, he flipped it from
its fastenings and sent it, with ringing clangor, to the floor almost at
the feet of the Black Count, who stood with folded arms and face like a
thunder cloud, watching the movements of the younger man. He was
swordsman enough to know that the very manner in which Rodolph handled
the weapon to estimate its weight and balance, proved him an adversary
not to be lightly encountered. He made no motion to lift the blade at
his feet.
"Is this, then, to be a duel at which no witnesses of mine are
present?"
"It is no duel," cried Rodolph, his control over himself for the moment
dissolving in the white heat of his continued anger. "It is to be the
chastisement of a craven hound. Not a single honourable wound shall I
inflict upon you. You shall either kill me, or I will punish you as a
cowardly dog is punished. Up with your sword, courageous frightener of
women, up with your sword, and let us see what it will do for you."
The archer, breathing hard, had difficulty in fixing his eyes on the
ceiling, and in endeavouring to conceal his excitement he began actually
to whistle, the infectious refrain, "The devil is black," coming to his
lips, and disturbing rather than breaking the silence which followed
Rodolph's words. The Count still did not bend his back, but stood there
with his arms across his breast. The whistling turned his attention to
the door. The Emperor looked round, annoyed at the interruption,
whereupon the refrain suddenly ceased, and the bowman's eyes again
sought the ceiling.
"I understand," said the Black Count slowly. "It is a most admirable
arrangement. When I have you at my mercy your follower there is ready to
turn your defeat into a victory by sending shaft through my body;
assassination beautifully planned under the guise of fair fight."
"Archer," commanded Rodolph, "unbar again the door and place bow and
arrows outside, then fasten bolts once more."
"My Lord," demurred Surrey, "that will arrest attention and lead to
interference, which is doubtless what his Darkness desires, for the
devil is not only black but treacherous."
"There is truth in that," admitted the Emperor. "Unstring your bow,
then, and give it to me."
When the archer had done this with visible reluctance, for he was like a
fish out of water deprived of his lithe instrument, Rodolph, passing
the Count, flung the bow into the farther corner of the room, and
returned to his place nearer the door.
"Now, my Lord Count," he said, "if you defeat me you can easily keep the
unarmed archer away from his weapon. If he calls for help, it will be
your own men who answer, for my only other follower lies sorely wounded
in your service. If, on the other hand, I defeat you, the archer will
have no need of his bow. Is your chivalrous spirit now content? You
have, lion-like, out-faced the women, and sent them beaten from your
presence; let me see you now stand up to a man, for I swear to you that
if I hear another word from those lips until you fight, I will throw
knightly weapon aside and assault you with the back of my hand."
The Count, stooping, raised the sword, swung it powerfully this way and
that, then whirled it round his head. Unpleased with it, he strode to
the wall and took down another and a heavier one. Rodolph stood in an
attitude of defence, watching intently every movement of his enemy,
turning his body to face him as he walked to the wall and back. The
Count was a stalwart man somewhat past the prime of life, so far as
active swordsmanship goes. Rodolph having quickly thrown off his
doublet, standing in his shirt sleeves, with their lace ruffles at their
wrists, seemed no less powerful, and youth gave him an agility which was
denied the elder man. But the Count was partly encased in mail, while
his rival had no such protection; a disastrous inequality should the
opposing sword break through his defence. Europe came later to know
Rodolph a master of weapons, as he was of statesmanship, but at this
time the Count little anticipated what he was about to face, and had no
reason to doubt that he himself was a match for any swordsman in the
Empire.
With bull-dog bravery he launched himself upon the young man, swinging
his gigantic weapon with an ease and dexterity which, considering the
weight of it, was little short of marvellous. That he had determined to
kill, and not to wound, was evident from the first flash of his massive
blade. Rodolph, strictly on the defensive, gave way before him inch by
inch. Thus the two, their falchions glittering like lightning shafts
around their heads, came slowly down the long length of the great room,
admirable for such a contest, except for the semi-gloom that pervaded
it. There was no sound save the ring of steel on steel. The archer stood
with his back against the curtain, his hands on his hips, body inclined
towards the combatants, neck craned forward, every muscle tense, almost
breathless with the excitement of the moment. His master's back was in
alignment with him, and he saw with dismay his almost imperceptible
retreat. Through the shimmering of the whirling steel the wild eyes of
the Count glared like sparks of fire, filled with relentless hate and a
confidence of victory. Sometimes the blades struck a shower of sparks
that enveloped the fighters like a sudden glow of flame, illuminating
the dark timbers of the ceiling, and drawing scintillations of light
from the polished weapons along the wall. Backward and backward came
Rodolph, nearer and nearer to the archer, who liked not this slow
retreat, and wondered at it; thinking perhaps his master came thus
toward him expecting something from him which he had not the wit to
understand, but determining to intervene with his bare hands if his
master's safety demanded it. Why had he foolishly been deprived of his
bow? He thought of stealing to the corner and re-possessing himself of
it, but feared Rodolph's displeasure, so stood rigid and helpless,
looking at this contest of the giants, quailing at the inch by inch
retreat. No human being could hope to keep up for long that onslaught,
yet no sword stroke came through the cool guard of Rodolph. The archer
began at length to see with an exultation he could scarcely keep from
translating into a victorious shout, that despite the yielding foot by
foot his master seemed covered by a roof of steel. Black Heinrich might
as well have rained his blows on the main round towers of his own
castle; in fact, he could have done so with more visible effect.
As the clashing tornado of strokes went on without cessation, the archer
began to wish he could see the face of his friend and master, but he
dared not move from the spot. The Count was quite manifestly beginning
to feel the effects of his own fury. His brow was corded and huge beads
of sweat rolled down his forehead and dripped into his eyes, interfering
with his sight and causing him, now and then, to shake his head
savagely, thus momentarily clearing his vision. The same motion
scattered the foam gathering at his open lips, and flecked white
splotches on his black beard. Rodolph's attitude had been practically
unchanged since the contest began, with the ever shifting backward
motion, and now as the two neared the entrance end of the long room, the
swing of the Count's blade had gradually become automatic as it were,
resembling measured strokes regulated by machinery, rather than designed
and varied by a sentient human brain. In response to this, Rodolph's
defence took on a similar fixity and regularity of movement, and to the
onlooker it seemed that the fight might so continue indefinitely, until
one or the other dropped from sheer exhaustion.
Suddenly Rodolph stepped swiftly back, whirled his blade round his head
with a speed that made it whistle in the air like a gale through a key
hole, and, in its sweep from right to left, curving upward, it caught
the downward stroke of Heinrich's sword near the hilt with irresistible
impact, whirled the weapon out of the Count's hands, and sent it flying
to the left wall, from which, ringing against the armour, it fell
clattering to the floor. Rodolph, letting the point of his weapon rest
at his feet, leaned his arms on the transverse piece, which gave the
sword the appearance of a cross, and stood thus regarding his
antagonist, who, as if the hilt he had grasped had been the source of
his motion, remained in exactly the posture he held when it was struck
out of his hands. He resembled a figure turned suddenly to stone by the
sweep of a magician's wand. Leaning forward, his hands outstretched, the
one before the other, as if holding an invisible weapon, the spasmodic
heaving of his breast was the only motion that agitated his indurate
frame. For the first time Rodolph saw in his eyes a lurking flash of
fear.
"Take a moment's breathing space, my Lord Count," said the Emperor. "If
you exhaust yourself before attack begins how can your defence prosper?"
Then turning his head he said, across his shoulder, "Bring the Count his
sword, archer."
Surrey saw with jubilation that there was no sign of fatigue on the calm
face turned to him, and he had difficulty in smothering a joyous whoop
as he picked up the weapon and gave it to Black Heinrich, who, taking it
like a man in a dream, backed cautiously to the spot where the fight had
begun. It needed no second glance to see that his unexpected disarming
had thoroughly demoralised him; yet he made no appeal for mercy, but
stood there in sullen obstinacy awaiting the attack which would bring
death to him were his antagonist bent on killing him.
"Defend yourself," cried Rodolph, advancing towards him. The other took
a firmer grip of his sword hilt and stood ready. The contest was
scarcely of a moment's duration. The Emperor struck down his guard
several times in succession until Heinrich could have no doubt that he
stood entirely at the assailant's mercy whenever he chose to take
advantage of a defence that availed nothing; then whirling his weapon
several times round his head while Heinrich guarded here and there in
doubt where the blow was about to fall, Rodolph dealt the Count a
fearful blow on the cheek with the flat of the sword and sent him head
over heels with a clatter of armour and the jingling of the liberated
sword dancing along the floor. The Count lay where he fell, so dazed
that he held his elbow above his head as if that would protect it.
"Get up, you craven dog!" cried the Emperor, the fever of battle
unloosing his hitherto suppressed rage. "Get up, you terroriser of
women, you executioner of defenceless men. Stand on your feet and don't
cringe there like a whipped spaniel."
But the man remained prone and made no motion to help himself. Rodolph
raised his sword once or twice and seemed about to strike his fallen foe
with the flat of it, but he could not bring himself to hit a helpless
enemy, so flinging the blade to the wall where its companion lay, he
walked down the room, took up his doublet, and put it on.
For a few moments he paced up and down the room as the Count had done,
then seeing Heinrich getting somewhat unsteadily to his feet Rodolph
stopped and watched the very gradual uprising. The side of Black
Heinrich's face was bruised and swollen, and he rubbed it tenderly with
his open hand.
"Now, my Lord Count, if you are ready, we shall conclude this discussion
regarding the exercise of authority within this castle."
"Oh, take the castle," cried its owner, dolorously, "and the devil give
you good of it."
"I have no wish to deprive you of castle or of anything else. I fought
that our lives and liberties may not be at the disposal of a truculent
coward."
"I am no coward, my Lord, as you yourself will willingly admit when you
are cooler. It is little disgrace to me that I fell before such
sword-play as yours, the like of which was never before seen in Germany.
If you have no distrust of me, I have no rancour against you for what
has happened, and I am content to acknowledge my master when I meet him.
What, then, have you to propose to me?"
"I have invited no witnesses to this bout, not because I wished to take
unfair advantage, as you suggested, but so that you might not be
humiliated before your own men. The archer here will keep a still tongue
anent what he has seen. You will bear me out in the promise of that,
Surrey?"
"I will not mention it, even to the bow, my Lord."
"Very well. Then, Count Heinrich, you have nothing to fear if you play
fairly. Are you honest when you say you will bear no malice?"
"I am honest," said the Count, rubbing his swollen cheek, adding with a
grunt, "indeed, I have every reason for wishing you my friend."
"We will take it so. Archer, place the swords where they were against
the wall, and take up your bow from the corner. Now I consent that you
still exercise full authority in your castle, but we must have no more
scenes like that of to-day, where we plead and protest in vain against
your barbarous decisions."
"It was a military necessity, my Lord, that forced me to remove all
useless persons from a castle about to be besieged. It is always done."
"I quite agree with that, and quarrel with nought but the method of the
doing. I will go further and say that your message to the villagers
giving them liberty to make the best terms they could for themselves,
had in it traces of nobleness that left me entirely unprepared for the
madness which followed. To every rule there are exceptions. Are you
prepared to order the return of Hilda, the handmaiden of your niece?"
"Such will be my first order on leaving this room."
"You will perhaps promise there are to be no more murders by that
cowardly assassin, Steinmetz."
"I shall punish him for what he has done. It was not my intention that
any should be beheaded."
"You cannot punish him, richly as he deserves it, for you are the real
culprit, giving first the order and then approving the deed when it was
done. You promise then, that there shall be no more of such sanguinary
commands?"
"I promise."
"The archer will hereafter be my bodyguard, and where I go, he goes. He
is to be under no orders but mine. I shall choose my lodgings in this
castle where it best pleases me, and none shall enter therein without my
invitation. It may be well to remember, that if it come to such a pass,
the archer and myself are prepared to stand out against you and your
whole garrison."
"I had hoped that so brave a man as you, would have been willing to
accept the word of an equally brave, if less youthful and less skilful,
antagonist."
"My confidence in mankind has not undergone improvement during my brief
stay at Thuron. Some of your favourites I most thoroughly distrust,
Steinmetz for example. It will do no harm if you intimate to him that
your severest displeasure will rest on whoever molests us. As for
Conrad, when he recovers----"
But this sentence was never finished, and its lack of completion came
near to costing Conrad his life, but that was through no fault of Count
Heinrich. The conference was interrupted by a vigourous knocking at the
closed doors. The Count looked at Rodolph, and it was the latter who
ordered the archer to withdraw the bolts and raise the bar. Captain
Steinmetz entered, and seemed amazed at finding the door shut against
him, but he saw the two men seated at a table as if they were merely in
friendly converse together, and so thought no more of the unusual
shutting in.
"My Lord," he cried, "the Archbishop's men have entered Alken, coming
unexpectedly up the river, instead of from the direction of Cochem.
Others have appeared on the heights above the valley by the north tower,
and a further body to the south. Foot soldiers are now marching down the
left bank towards Alken. A troop of horsemen were the first to enter the
village, but now armed men appear in every direction. They are putting
up tents on the plains above Alken."
"Has the conductor of the women returned from the village?"
"Yes, my Lord, he is now in the castle, and not a moment too soon."
"He left the women there?"
"Yes, my Lord."
Heinrich turned to Rodolph and said in a low voice:
"I am willing to venture a detachment, to rescue the girl, if such is
your wish."
"No, it is too late, and too hazardous. She will probably come to no
harm where she is, and a detachment lost would weaken our force so that
the castle might be taken in the first rush."