God Wills It! Part 72

"Now, by the Trinity and Holy Cross, G.o.d do so to me if Iftikhar Eddauleh long escape the devil! He, emir of Jerusalem! Praised be every saint, we shall yet stand face to face!"

And under the starlight Rollo, as if knowing that the last stretch of the weary road had come, ran onward with his long, unflagging gallop.

It was very dark; but the red glare of the villages was sure beacon.

Once Rollo stumbled and barely recovered. Longsword dropped his companions one by one. A single thought possessed him now,--over those dark, low-lying hills, barely traced under the stars, lay Jerusalem--City of G.o.d on earth! And in Jerusalem waited his mortal foe, and the vengeance he had wooed so long! Vengeance, sweet as the kiss of Mary Kurkuas; sweeter, if so might be. In his revery, as he galloped, he saw neither hills, nor stars, nor road; he dreamed only of Trenchefer carving its way through the Ismaelian.

Vengeance, the clearing of his vow, return to France, to love--all these just on before! Richard was lost in the vision. Suddenly the click and thunder of a steed at headlong pace shook him from the revery. What rider this, that gained on Rollo? A voice through the darkness:--

"Ho! friend; why so fast? Your company!"

It was the voice of G.o.dfrey. Richard had reined instinctively. The Duke was beside him.

"By St. George, fair lord," cried the Norman, "where is your own corps? Why ride you here alone?"

G.o.dfrey laughed under his helmet.

"Could I leave Tancred the glory and the boast, 'I first set eyes on the Holy City'? Under cover of the dark I left Baldwin du Bourg to bring up my men, and spurred forward. I knew that with me would ride one whose right arm is none the weakest."

"Forward, then!" returned Richard; "I have joy in your company, my lord."

"Please G.o.d, we shall meet a few infidels and avenge the burned villages," muttered G.o.dfrey, as they flew on. "Ten paynims to one Christian are fair odds with Jerusalem so nigh!"

But the wish was unrealized. They rode for a while in silence; met no more fugitives, nor any of the garrison. Presently the horses fell to a walk. The light of the burning hamlets died away. Very dark--only in the farthest east there was a dim redness. No smouldering farmhouse, a light brightening slowly, slowly. A soft warm southern wind was creeping across the plain. To the left the twain just saw black cedars ma.s.sed in a dark ravine. There was an awe and hush on all the earth.

Behind came the clink of arms, the click of men and steeds; but from Tancred's company drifted no murmur. Who craved speech at such an hour? Slower the steps of the horses. A hill slope extended before--a blank form in the dark. The wind seemed to hush as they advanced.

Richard knew that never in all life had awe possessed him more utterly. He heard the water trickling in a hidden brooklet. Out of a tamarisk whirred a wild partridge. How great the noise! Did Rollo know he trod down holy ground, his great feet fell so softly? The sky grew brighter--rocks, trees, hillocks springing to being; the blackness was gray, the gray was tinged with red, the stars were fading.

G.o.dfrey whispered softly to Richard:--

"From what the pilgrims say, we now climb the Mount of Olives. Before us lies the chapel of the Ascension, beyond--Jerusalem! Let us kneel and pray that G.o.d make us worthy to behold His Holy City."

The two knights dismounted, fell on their knees, their hearts almost too full even for silent prayer. "So many agonies, so bitter loss, so many days! At last! At last!" This was all Richard Longsword knew. He tried to confess his sins; to say _mea culpa_, but his one thought was of thanksgiving. With G.o.dfrey he rose and led Rollo by the bridle upward. They ascended slowly, reverently, counting each rock and nestling olive tree. And with their mounting, mounted the light. Now Richard looked back--a wide, dim landscape faded away into the rosy east, peaks and plain, more peaks all desolate, and farthest of all a little steel-gray shimmer, where he knew the Dead Sea lay. Still the light strengthened, making all the landscape red gold; the naked chalk rock to the west lit with living fire. Behind hasted the whole van--footmen running abreast of the hors.e.m.e.n, priests outstripping the warriors, and one priest speeding before all--Sebastian. He overtook the two knights, breathless with his speed; but the new light not brighter than the light in his eyes. He said nothing. The three pressed forward. Four and twenty hours, barely halting, all had advanced, but who was weary?

Suddenly the host behind broke forth chanting as they toiled upward,--the psalm tenfold louder in the morning stillness:--

"Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised In the city of our G.o.d, in the mountain of His holiness.

Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, Is Mount Zion, on the sides of the north, The city of the great King."

The chant went up to heaven and seemed to call forth more light from the glowing east. Suddenly every voice hushed,--silence as never before. For all thoughts went deeper than word or cry. The last mist stole upward, a thin gray haze; the sun-ball hung behind the highest peak of Moab. His tip crept above it; Longsword glanced back. A cry from Sebastian recalled him.

"Jerusalem!"

It came as a great cry and sigh in one from the priest. He had cast himself on the bare summit and kissed the holy rock.

Richard and G.o.dfrey looked westward, and bathed in the dawn--_they saw the Holy City_. They saw gray walls and a dim brown country, naked almost of tree or shrub, and white houses peering above frowning battlements. Dominating over all they saw the dome of the mosque on the Sacred Rock,--token of the enemies of Christ. What mattered it now?

"Jerusalem! Jerusalem!" the cry was pa.s.sing down the line, and made the climbing easy as though on eagle's wings.

"Jerusalem! Jerusalem!" Richard saw strong men falling on their faces, as had he. And his and every other's cheek was wet, for tears would come,--no shame when they looked upon the city of their risen Lord!

Gray stones and brown cliffs, thorns and thistles, dust and drought, naked plains, burned by blasting heat; so be it! This their goal, the object of an untold agony! Could human hearts be filled so full and not break? G.o.dfrey flung his arms about Richard, and their iron lips exchanged the kiss of awful gladness. Words they had none, save that one word. They named the Holy City a thousand times: "Jerusalem!

Jerusalem!" And men prayed G.o.d then and there to die, for already their souls were wrapt to heaven. Tancred the haughty, who had just come up, saw at his side a simple man-at-arms, a plodding peasant's son; but the great Prince had forgotten all, save that for both one Saviour died.

"My brother! My brother in Christ!" Tancred was pleading, as he gave the kiss of love, "Pray for me! pray for me! I am a very sinful man!"

They remained thus upon the mountain, weeping and laughing and stretching forth their hands, till the sun had risen far above the mountains. Had the Egyptians sallied forth to smite, scarce a sword would have flashed, so dear seemed martyrdom. But at length the hour of transfiguration was past. G.o.dfrey had risen for the last time from his knees. He mounted and pointed with his good sword to the minarets and the cl.u.s.ters of spears upon the lowering battlements.

"Forward, Christians!" rang the command; "the infidels still hold the City of G.o.d! Forward! there is yet one fight to be won in Our Lord's dear name!"

Then another cry thundered from the army, each blade leaping from scabbard:--

"G.o.d wills it! G.o.d wills it!" And the unbelievers must have seen the Mount of Olives a sea of flashing steel, while the bulwarks of Zion rang with the shouting.

"Yes," Richard heard from Sebastian, bowing low his head, "this truly is the will of G.o.d! The hour of my deliverance from this evil world is nigh."

The ranks closed, and as the host marched down the slopes of Olivet, the priests sang, advancing:--

"Blessed City, heavenly Salem, Vision dear of Peace and Love, Who of living stones art builded, Art the joy of Heaven above, And with angel cohorts circled, As a bride to earth doth move!"

Then the whole army rolled out the mighty _Gloria_:--

"Laud and honor to the Father!

Laud and honor to the Son!

Laud and honor to the Spirit!

Ever Three and ever One!

Con-substantial, Co-eternal!

While unending ages run!"

So the cliffs echoed back the singing, the Christian host moved onward, driving the last squadrons of the Egyptians inside the walls, and sending divisions southward to raise Tancred's standard over Bethlehem. All that day the Crusaders streamed over the heights of Emmaus, raising the song of Isaiah:--

"Awake, awake, O Jerusalem: break forth into joy: put on thy beautiful garments: for the Lord hath comforted His people: He hath redeemed Zion."

But Richard had driven Rollo close to the Gate of St. Stephen, mocking a cloud of infidel arrows, and on the walls directing the garrison, he had seen a figure in gilded armor he would have known among ten thousand. That night, if his vows against Iftikhar Eddauleh had been strong, they were threefold stronger now.

CHAPTER XLIV

HOW MORGIANA BROUGHT WARNING

How, as related in his letter, Musa had entered the camp of Kerbogha, made his guileful tale believed, and escaped safely with Mary Kurkuas to Tyre, we have no need to tell. When the Spaniard was landed at that city, he dreamed unwisely that his troubles were at an end. An easy voyage to Damietta, an easy journey to Cairo, and at Cairo a s.p.a.cious palace awaited him as emir in service to the Fatimite Mustaali. There the Greek could spend the time in quiet and luxury until the Crusade had run its course. But, again, Musa was to learn that the book of doom contains many things contrary to the wish of man. While at Tyre a letter came from the omnipotent grand vizier, Al Afdhal, ordering him to hasten at once to Jerusalem and a.s.sume the post of second in command. A high honor; and the vizier added that the Spaniard had been given this signal trust, both because all in Cairo had learned to put confidence in his valor and discretion, and because the Christians would be sure to reach the city soon, where the defenders should be familiar with their warfare.

Musa spent half a day in vain maledictions over this letter. By refusing the kalif's daughter he had put his neck in peril once; to decline this second honor would be to invite the bowstring. Hardly could he bring himself to lay his dilemma before the Greek. She had been lodged with all honor in the harem of the Egyptian governor of the city, for Musa had pa.s.sed her before the world as his own Christian slave. When the Spaniard came to her, he professed himself willing to throw over his position in Egypt and fly to Tunis, if she bade him. But Mary only smiled and shook her head. "Dear friend," said she, "you shall go to no more pains on my behalf. The Holy Mother knows I spend many an evening crying when I think of all the brave men, just and base, who have died or run perils for my sinful sake."

"Then what am I to do?" protested the Spaniard, with one of his eloquent gestures. "Go to Jerusalem?"

Mary was silent for a long time; then said directly:--

"Ah, Musa, I am Christian bred, but were all Moslems like you, I could hate none. Leave that to the priests, like Sebastian! If you go to Jerusalem and the Christians attack, as attack they will, you will defend the city, will fight to the last?"