For The White Christ - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel For The White Christ Part 35 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"A true seer! There comes the first ox-span, and Anselm waving to us.
It is well he rides with the train, else we should never have seen them.
None but oxen could have come at all with wains so laden."
"Tribute gold of a dozen burgs and all the plunder of the Ebro valley!"
muttered Olvir.
"Not all, brother. Your sea-wolves bear theirs upon their own shoulders."
"Where it is safest. They 'll yield it with life,--no sooner."
"One and all, they 're welcome to their loot, and welcome to bear it. I trust mine in Anselm's care."
"Mine is yet safer. My Saracen gems lie in Floki's bosom. What thief would risk the bill of the Crane?"
"Only one utterly reckless of life. But why do we talk of safety? We have put even Kasim behind us. Would to Heaven we 'd first met the traitor! Yet now all that is past. We go home to enjoy our war-loot."
"Rather, to push on to wilder war-fields."
"Ah, brother, if only we may ride together! Yet I fear that his Majesty may leave me on the Garonne, or send me back to my Breton Mark."
"You shall go Rhineward with us, though I bend knee for the favor."
"We shall soon see. Now to horse. The oxen press upon us."
"To horse, and forward!" the command pa.s.sed down the waiting ranks.
Four thousand heavy-armed Franks swung into the saddle; four thousand war-steeds wheeled into column. The ancient Roman way shook with the tread of hoofs. At the head of the column the black Arabs pranced and curvetted, no less pleased than their riders to be off, after the long wait.
"Now we fare homeward!" exclaimed Roland, and he gazed up joyfully at the towering peaks and precipices. But a sudden shadow fell on Olvir's face.
"Homeward!" he echoed. "I trust it may not yet be the homeward faring for me."
"Saint Michael, no! Surely, there is nothing now to draw you back into your frozen North. As to your ships, we 'll sail them around into the Rhine."
"My ships will soon be sailing the North Sea; but they may steer for another haven than Rhine Mouth. My sea-wolves are fairly glutted with plunder, and I dread lest these fells recall too well the cliffs of our Trondir fiords."
"But what if the little vala bids her warriors stay? Never doubt, brother; we 'll sail to the North as we sailed to the South,--unless the king sails with us."
"Not he. You Franks are not fond of brine. But with Rothada aboard, we could hold fast all the crews,--Dane and Norse alike."
"I could swear to that. And we shall soon put her power to the test.
By nightfall we will overtake the host, and can tell the little maiden of our wish."
"Before nightfall! Already we scale the pa.s.s, and Anselm urges on the ox-drovers. Their beasts follow close upon our rear."
"Yet, at the best, they 'll drag their wains all too slowly up these steep gorges," grumbled Roland. "How the grim cliffs tower above us!
Here is fitting abode for fiends and evil sprites."
"Rather, for evil-minded Vascons! Look above in the cleft. I saw the glint of steel."
"The spear of a bear-hunter. The sullen mountaineer halts in the chase to watch us pa.s.s."
"I saw more spears than one! By Thor! I'm minded to scale the cliff."
"To what end? At the worst, it is only a band of Vascon thieves lying in wait to cut off stragglers."
"Were my vikings here, we 'd not pa.s.s by this wasp nest."
"Ride on. The gnarl-faced thieves will not even fall upon the tail of the rearguard, if the men keep close. It would not mend matters should we seek to climb the cleft. My hors.e.m.e.n are no more crag-bred than am I.
In their heavy war-gear--"
"Come, then. But first, send back warning to Eggihard and Anselm."
Roland turned and gave the command to the first of his hors.e.m.e.n. Then his black stallion clattered on up the steep ascent, side by side with the black courser.
For some time the sword-brothers rode in silence. Olvir, with the delight of one bred among fells, was drinking in eagerly the wild and rugged beauty of the pa.s.s. The Frank, however, was depressed in spirit, half awed by that which most pleased his Norse mate. He sighed with relief when the road began to wind about the towering ma.s.s of Altobiscar.
"Saint Michael!" he cried; "here's a landmark to pa.s.s with joy! Now we shall soon be looking down upon the gentle valley of the Nive."
"I said true. Even at this pace twilight will see the last of Eggihard's Neustrians trailing into camp."
"Ah, brother, that will be a merrier return to the north slopes than I could hope for when we marched from the Garonne. Those were bitter days--"
"Speak no more of that ill time, Roland,--nor of the maiden. Never again shall doubt come between us. Our hearts are now one."
"Even to the end of all things."
"In life!--in death!" cried Olvir, so fervently that the echoing cliffs rang with the words: "_life in death!--in death!--death!_"
Roland shuddered.
"G.o.d's mercy!" he cried. "Hark how the crag-fiends mock!"
"_Hark--fiends mock!--fiends mock!--mock!_" called back the echoes.
"It is nothing," laughed Olvir. "Whoever the rock-dwellers may be,--kobold or scrat, troll or dwarf,--they never do harm. In my bairnhood I would often linger in the glens where they dwelt, to jeer at them."
"Truly, yours was a wild boyhood, Olvir. You have yet told me little of it."
"A merry bairnhood, though Otkar's was a heavy hand."
"That I can well believe. Tell me more of your tomb life."
"Tell me, rather, of your swart Bretons, and of the Frisian vikings, who, you say, settled along the coast of southern Neustria in the olden days."
"Such is the tale. But I am not in the mood for talk. I would rather hear of your wild Norse land."
"Then look well at these crags and heights,--most of all at the great snow-peak. Let this rough way be instead the smooth ship-path,--the fiord; and on either hand the foam-white torrents leaping from the heights. Such is my home."