The King Orgulous

To and fro in the open cloister of Essalona walked the monk Desiderius,

musing and musing. Every now and again he stayed in his paces to feed

a tall white stork and two of her young, which stood on the parapet

between the pillars of the cloister; and though for the most part his

dole went to the storklings, the mother was well content with his

stroking of her head and soft white backfeathers.

Then he resumed his slow walk, turning over and over in his perplexed

mind the questions of grace and nature, and praying for light in the

obscure ways where reason groped darkling. Meanwhile the storks stood

grave and patient, as if they too had matter for deep musing.

As in this day, so in the ancient time the convent of Essalona was

perched on a beetling crag on the northern side of the Sarras

mountains. There the mighty ridge, with its belts of virgin pinewood

and its stony knolls and pastoral glens, breaks off suddenly in a

precipitous escarpment; and, a thousand feet below, the land is an

immense green plain, sweeping away to the blue limits of the north. It

is as though the sea had once on a time run up to the mountain wall and

torn down the tawny rocks for sand and shingle, and had then drawn back

into the north, leaving the good acres to grow green in the sun.

Through the plain winds a river, bright and slow; in many places the

fruitful level is ruffled with thicket and coppice; and among the far

fields the white walls of farms and hamlets glitter amid their boskage.

When the clear sunlight fell on that still expanse of quiet earth, one

might see, in those days, the stone towers and sparkling pinnacles of

the royal city of Sarras, with a soft blue feather of smoke floating

over it.

Often had Desiderius let his eyes rest on the smoulder and gleam of

that busy city, which was all so hushed and dreamlike in the distance,

little thinking the while that one day he should dwell within its

walls, and play a strange part in the deeds that men remember.

From the brink of the escarpment rises the rock of Essalona, and the

convent is built on the edge of the rock, in such sort that, leaning

over the parapet of the open cloister, Desiderius might have dropped a

pebble sheer down to the plain below. A single path wound up the rock

to the gate, so narrow and steep that one sturdy lay-brother might have

held the way with a thresher's flail against a score of men-at-arms.

[Illustration: _King Orgulous_]

Here, then, in this solitary house, Desiderius dwelt with five other

brethren, all good and faithful men; but he, the youngest and yet the

most learned in philosophy and star-lore and the sacred Scriptures and

the books of the wise, was the most meek and lowly of heart. No pains

did he spare his body or his spirit to master the deep knowledge of

divine things. Diligent by day, he eked out the light of the stars

with the lamp of the firefly, or conned his page by the dim shining of

the glow-worm along the lines.

Now as he mused in the cloister he stopped short with a deep sigh, and

stood before the storks, and said: "Away, happy birds; you have leave.

Disport yourselves, soaring very high in the sunny heavens, or take

your rest on our roofs. I have appeased you with food; but to the

hunger of my soul who shall minister?"

At his word the storks flapped their wings and rose from the parapet,

and went sailing up into the sunshine; and Desiderius heard at his

shoulder a most sweet and gracious voice saying: "What is thy hunger,

and wherein wouldst thou have me minister to thee?"

Turning about, Desiderius saw that it was an Angel which spoke, and he

fell at the bright spirit's feet, abashed and in great dread. But the

Angel raised him up, and gave him courage, saying: "O Desiderius, most

dear to me (for I am thine Angel Guardian), do not tremble to tell me;

but speak to me even as thou wouldst speak to a man of thy brethren."

Then said Desiderius: "Show to me and make plain, I pray thee, the

mystery of the grace of God in the heart of man."

"Many are the mysteries of God," said the Angel, "whereof even the

highest of the Archangels may not sustain the splendour, and this is

one of them. Howbeit, if thou wilt be patient and prayerful, and wilt

repose thy trust in the Lord Christ, I will strive to show thee two

pictures of thy very self--one, to wit, of the natural Adam in

Desiderius, and one of the man redeemed by the blood shed for thee. So

in some wise shalt thou come to some dim light of this mystery of grace

divine. Will that suffice thee?"

"That, Lord Angel, will suffice," said the monk, bowing low before the

Angel.

"Wait, then, and watch; and even in thy body and before thou diest thou

shalt behold as I have said."

Therewith the Angel left him, and Desiderius was aware of but the walls

and pillars of the cloister, and the bright vast plain, and, far away,

the city of Sarras glittering, and the smoke sleeping like a small blue

cloud above it. And the coming and going of the Angel was after this

manner. Desiderius perceived him, bright in the brightness of the

sunshine, as one perceives a morsel of clear ice floating in clear

water; and when Desiderius saw him no more it was as though the clear

ice had melted into the clear water.

Now after the lapse of three short years, and when he was but in his

thirtieth summer, Desiderius was summoned from his cell on the lonely

mountain, and, despite his tears and supplications and his

protestations of ignorance and inexperience and extreme youth, made

Archbishop of Sarras. Only one answer was vouchsafed to him. "One of

thy vows was entire obedience, and the grace of God is sufficient for

thee."

In that same year a horde of the fierce Avars poured out from the round

green earth-walls of their mysterious stronghold, which lay beyond

Danube, and, crossing the river, fell on Sarras; and clashing with that

ravening horde, Astulf the King of Sarras was slain.

Ill had it then fared with the folk of Sarras, city and plain alike,

but for a certain Talisso, a free-rider, who from a green knoll had

watched the onset. When he saw the slaying of the King, he plunged

into the battle, cleaving his way through the ranks of squat and

swarthy Avars; and heartening the men of Sarras with his ringing cheer

and battle-laughter, shaped them into wedges of sharp iron and drove

them home through the knotted wood of their foemen, till the Avars fled

hot-foot to Danube water, and through the water, and beyond, and so

reached the strait doorways of their earth-bound stronghold, the Hring.

Now, seeing that the King of Sarras had left neither child nor brother

to heirship, and that their deliverer was a stalwart champion, young

and nobly statured, and handsome and gracious as he was valiant, frank

too and open-handed, and that moreover he seemed a man skilled in the

mastery of men and in affairs of rule, the fighting men of Sarras

thought that no better fortune could befall them than they should

choose this Talisso for their king. To Sarras therefore they carried

him with them on their merry home-going, and having entered the free

town, called the Council of Elders to say yea or nay. With few words

the Elders confirmed the choice, and the joy-bells were rung, and great

was the rejoicing of all men, gentle and simple, that God had sent them

so goodly a man for their ruler and bulwark.

In a week from that the city was dight and decked for the crowning of

Talisso. Garlands were hung across the streets; windows and walls were

graced with green branches and wreaths of flowers; many-coloured

draperies, variegated carpets and webs of silk and velvet hung from

parapet and balcony; once more the joy-bells were set aswing, and amid

a proud array of nobles and elders and gaily harnessed warriors the new

King walked under a canopy of cloth of gold to the High Church.

There in solemn splendour the new Archbishop administered to him the

kingly oath, and anointed him with the chrism of consecration, and set

the gold of power on his head, and invested him with the mantle of St.

Victor and girt about him the Saint's great iron sword set with many

jewels on the apple and the cross. As the Archbishop was completing

these ordinances, he chanced to look full into the King's face for the

first time, and as the King's eyes met his each stood still as stone

regarding the other for such a space as it would take one to count

four, telling the numbers slowly. Neither spoke, and when they who

were nearest looked to learn the cause of the stillness and the

stoppage they saw with amazement that the new King and the new

Archbishop were as like the one to the other as brothers who are twins.

With a slow and audible drawing of the breath the Archbishop took up

again the words of the ritual, and neither looked at the other any more

at that time.

Now, having been crowned and consecrated, Talisso ascended the steps in

front of the altar, and, drawing the huge blade from its sheath, lunged

with it four times into the air--once to the north, and once to the

south, once to the east and once to the west. Sheathing the sword, he

descended, and walking to the western portal mounted his war-horse, and

paced slowly down the street, followed by a brilliant cavalcade, to the

Mound of Coronation.

Urging his steed up the ascent, he drew rein on the summit, and once

more bared the holy brand, and, wheeling to the four quarters of

heaven, thrust it into the air in token of lordship and power

inalienable; and when he rode down the Mound to his people a great cry

was raised in greeting, and four pigeons were loosed. High they flew

in circles overhead, and, each choosing his own airt, darted out to the

four regions of the world to bear the news of that crowning.

The first years of the new reign seemed to be the dawn of a Golden Age

in the land of Sarras, and in those years no man was more beloved and

honoured by the King than was Archbishop Desiderius. As time passed

by, however, and the evil leaven of unrestrained power began to ferment

in the King's heart, and the Archbishop opposed and reproved him,

gently and tenderly at first, but ever more gravely and steadfastly,

coldness and estrangement divided them; and soon that strange

resemblance which gave them the aspect of twin brothers, became a root

of suspicion and dread in the King's mind, for he reasoned with

himself, "What more likely than that this masterful prelate should

dream of wearing the crown, he who so nearly resembles the King that

the mother of either might well pause ere she should say which was her

son? A foot of iron, and a sprinkling of earth, and farewell Talisso!

None would guess it was Desiderius who took his ease in thy chair."

Thus by degrees limitless power waxed into lawlessness, and suspicion

and dread into moroseness and cruelty, and on this rank soil the red

weeds of lust and hate and bitter pride sprang up and choked all that

was sweet and gracious and lovable in the nature of the man.

Then did the wise and gentle folk of Sarras come to perceive how

woefully they had been deceived in the tyrant they had crowned, and

speedily it came to pass that when they spoke of King Talisso they

breathed not his name, but using an ancient word to signify such insane

and evil pride as that of Lucifer and the Fallen Angels, they called

him the King Orgulous. Yet if this was the mind of the better folk,

there was no lack of base and venomous creatures--flatterers,

time-servers, and sycophants--to minister to his wickedness and

malignity.

Dark were the days which now fell on Sarras, and few were those on

which some violence or injustice, some deed of lust or rapacity was not

flaunted in the face of heaven. The most noble and best men of the

city were attainted and plundered and driven into exile. Of the meaner

sort of folk many a poor citizen or rustic toiler went shaven and

branded, or maimed of nose and eyelids, or with black stumps seared

with pitch and an iron hook for hand. Once more the torture-chamber of

the castle rang with the screams of poor wretches stretched on the

rack; and the ancient instruments of pain, which had rusted through

many a long year of clemency, were once more reddened with the sweat of

human agony.

An insatiable lust of cruelty drove the King to a sort of madness.

With a fiendish malice he fashioned of wood and iron an engine of

torment which bore the likeness of a beautiful woman, but which opened

when a spring was pressed, and showed within a hideous array of knives;

and these pierced the miserable wight about whom the Image closed her

arms. In blasphemous merriment the King called this woman of his

making Our Lady of Sorrow, and in mockery of holy things he kept a

silver lamp burning constantly before her, and crowned her with flowers.

Now in the hour in which the King was left wholly to his wickedness, he

doomed to the Image the young wife of one of the chief men of Sarras.

Little more than a girl was she in years; sweet and exceeding lovely;

and she still suckled her first babe.

When the tormentors would have haled her to the Image, "Forbear," she

said, "there is no need; willingly I go and cheerfully." And with a

fearless meekness she walked before them with her little babe in her

arms into the chamber of agony.

Coming before the Image with its garland of flowers she knelt down, and

prayed to the Virgin Mother of our Lord, and commended her soul and the

soul of her dear babe to our Lady and her divine Son; and the babe

stretched out its little hands to the Image, cooing and babbling in its

innocence.

Then, as though this were a spectacle to make the very stones shriek

and to move the timber of the rack and the iron of the axe to human

tenderness, the Image stepped down from its pedestal, and lifted up

mother and child, and a wondrous light and fragrance filled the stone

vault, and the tormentors fled, stricken with a mad terror.

Down from the castle and through the streets of the hushed and weeping

city the Image led the mother and her babe to their own door, and when

they had entered the house, and the people stood by sobbing and

praying, the Image burst into flames, and on the spot where it stood

there remained a little heap of ashes when that burning was done.

Judge if the land of Sarras was silent after this day of divine

interposition. Hastily summoning the Bishops of the realm, and

gathering a body of men-at-arms, the Archbishop Desiderius proclaimed

from the Jesus altar of the High Church the deposition of the King

Orgulous. Talisso was seized and stripped of his royal robes; a width

of sackcloth was wrapped about his body, and with a rope round his neck

he was led to the Mound of Coronation. There, on the height whereon he

had thrust his sword into the four regions of heaven, he received his

sentence.

Standing erect in a circle on the top of the Mound the nine Bishops of

the realm held each a lighted torch in his hand. In the centre stood

Desiderius beside the King deposed, and holding high his torch uttered

the anathema which was to sever all bonds of plighted troth and loyalty

and service, and to cast him forth from the pale of Holy Church, and to

debar him from the common charity of all Christian people. At that

moment the Bishops marked with awe the strange resemblance between

Desiderius and the King, and the eyes of these two met, and each was

aware how marvellously like to himself was the other. But with a clear

unfaltering voice the Archbishop cried aloud the doom:

"May he be outcast from the grace of heaven and the gladness of earth.

May the stones betray him, and the trees of the forest be leagued

against him. In want or in sickness may no hand help him. Accursed

may he be in his house and in his fields, in the water of the streams

and in the fruits of the earth. Accursed be all things that are his,

from the cock that crows to awaken him to the dog that barks to welcome

him. May his death be the death of Pilate and of Judas the betrayer.

May no earth be laid on the earth that was he. May the light of his

life be extinguished thus!"

And the Archbishop cast down his torch and trampled it into blackness;

and crying "Amen, amen, amen!" the Bishops threw down their torches and

trod them under foot and crushed out every spark of fire.

"Begone," said the Archbishop, "thou art banned and banished. If

within three days thy feet be found on the earth of Sarras, thou shalt

hang from the nearest tree."

As he spoke the great bell of the High Church began to toll as for one

whose spirit has passed away. At the sound Talisso started; then

taking the rope from his neck and flinging it on the ground with a

mocking laugh, he turned and fled down the Mound and into the green

fields that lie to the north.

Not far had he fled into the open country before the recklessness of

the reiver and strong-thief fell on Talisso. Entering a homestead he

smote down the master, and got himself clothing and food and weapons,

and seizing a horse, pushed on apace till he came to the red field

where he had routed the Avars, and thence onward to Danube water.

Beyond Danube, some days' riding into the north, lay that mysterious

stronghold, the Hring, the camp-city of the Avar robber-horde. And

thither Talisso was now speeding, for he said to himself: "They are

raiders and slayers, and this kind is quick to know a _man_. They will

love me none the less that I have stricken and chased them. Rather

will they follow me and avenge me, if not for my sake for the sake of

the fat fields and rich towns of Sarras."

Now the stronghold was a marvel in the manner of its contrivance, and

in its size and strength; for it was bulwarked with seven rings, each

twenty feet high and twenty feet wide, and the rings were made of

stockades of oak and beech and pine trunks, filled in with stones and

earth, and covered atop with turf and thick bushes. The distance

across the outer ring was thirty miles, and between each ring and the

one within it there were villages and farms in cry of each other, and

each ring was pierced by narrow gateways well guarded. In the midst of

the innermost ring were the tent of the Chagan or Great Chief, and the

House of the Golden Hoard. Piled high were the chambers of that house

with the enormous treasure of a century of raiding--silken tissues and

royal apparel and gorgeous arms, great vases and heavy plate of gold

and silver, spoil of jewels and precious stones, leather sacks of

coined money, the bribes and tribute of Greece and Rome, and I know not

what else of rare and costly. Long afterwards, when the Avars were

broken and the Hring thrown down, that hoard filled fifteen great

waggons drawn each by four oxen.

In the very manner in which Talisso had forecast it, so it fell out

with him at the Hring. The fierce, swart, broad-shouldered dwarfs with

the almond eyes and woven pigtails gazed with glee and admiration on

the tall and comely warrior who had swept them before his sword-edge;

and when he spoke of the rich markets and goodly houses and fruitful

land of Sarras their eyes glistened, and they swore by fire and water

and the four winds to avenge his wrongs.

Little need is there to linger in telling of a swift matter. Mounted

on their nimble and hardy ponies, the Avars dashed into Sarras land two

hundred strong, and tarried neither to slay nor spoil, but outsped the

fleet feet or rumour, till in the grey glimmer of cock-crow they

sighted the towers of Sarras city. Under cover of a wood they rested

till the gates were flung wide for the early market folk. Who then but

Talisso laughed his fierce and orgulous laugh as he rode at their head

and they all hurled through the gates, and, clattering up the empty

street, carried the castle out of hand?

Not a blow was struck, no drop of blood reddened iron or stone; and

such divinity doth hedge even a wicked king dethroned that when the

guards saw the tyrant once more ascending the steps of power they

lowered their points and stood at a loss how to act. But Talisso, with

some touch of his pristine graciousness, bade no man flee or fear who

was willing to return to his allegiance. "First, however, of all

things, bring me hither the Archbishop; bring with ropes and horses if

need be; but see that not a hair of his head be injured."

Now on this same night that these Hunnish folk were pressing forward to

Sarras city Desiderius saw in a dream Talisso standing before the

throne of God. On his head he wore his crown, but otherwise he was but

such as he stood for sentence on the Mound of Coronation, to wit, with

a rope around his neck, and naked save for the fold of sackcloth about

his loins.

Beside him stood an Angel, and the Angel was speaking: "All the lusts

of the flesh, and all the lusts of the eyes, and all the lusts of the

will, and the pride of life this man hath gratified and glutted to

surfeiting, yet is he as restless as the sea and as insatiable as the

grave. Speak, man, is it not so?"

And Talisso answered, with a peal of orgulous laughter: "Restless as

the sea; insatiable as the grave."

"How then, Lord," said the Angel, "shall this man's unrest and hunger

be stayed?"