Journeys Through Bookland Volume Iii Part 49

Charlemagne put forth his hand and touched the kneeling Ganelon.

"Since the Franks have chosen thee," he said, "enter upon thy journey with a brave heart. Put aside all fear and take my glove and baton."

Still trembling, half with rage and half with fear, Ganelon said, "But for Roland would this service never have fallen upon me; and I hate him and his friend, the doughty Oliver. As for the rest of the n.o.bles, who have joined so willingly in the cry, I bid them all defiance."

The king answered, "Truly, Count Ganelon, your words were well tempered and well chosen, but my knights know your deeds never keep pace with your words, else might they fear your threatenings.

Perchance, in this one instance, however, your ready tongue will serve us better than your sword."

Then from his hand the king drew off his glove, and as Ganelon essayed to take it, it dropped upon the floor. The Frankish warriors trembled at this ill omen and whispered among themselves that it boded no good to the messenger; but Ganelon picked the glove up quickly, saying, "Fear nothing from so slight an accident. You shall hear again from this glove."

"Take the letter, signed and sealed with my signet, and go in G.o.d's name," said the king.

With anger still burning in his heart, Ganelon leaped upon his horse and set forth upon his dangerous mission. So rapidly did he ride that he soon overtook Blancandrin and his followers, who were resting by the wayside, and fell into friendly converse with them. The messenger of Marsilius was a wily man accustomed to read the emotions of men in their faces, and ere the vengeful Ganelon had spoken many words his companion had sounded the depths of the warrior's treacherous soul.

Noting well the kind of man to whom he was speaking, Blancandrin hesitated not to tell the story of the treachery which Marsilius had planned. The wily king had no thought of going to Aachen to pay tribute to Charlemagne, but, on the other hand, sought the opportunity to destroy the garrisons which Charles the king should leave behind him and to repossess himself of Spain. In the council at which this was determined, the cruel Moslems, dead to the love that fathers should bear their children, had determined to sacrifice their twenty sons, the hostages who had been left with King Charles. What were the lives of twenty boys compared with the reestablishment of their own power and wealth! Now when Ganelon heard the dastardly plan which the Saracens had made, he opened his heart to Blancandrin and told how he hated Roland and how gladly he would do anything so he would not be obliged again to be a witness to his stepson's good fortune.

When each had shown his true nature freely to the other they joined their wits and laid their plans. Thus when they were come to Zaragoz, Blancandrin took Ganelon by the hand and led him before King Marsilius, saying, "O king, thy message have I taken to the haughty Charlemagne, but no answer did he give me. He has, however, sent the n.o.ble Count Ganelon who shall tell you the decision."

According to the plans which had been matured on the journey Ganelon said, "G.o.d protect the good king, Marsilius. King Charles saith that if thou wilt lay aside thy Moslem faith and do homage to him at Aachen thou shalt hold in fealty to him one half the lands of Spain, but if thou failest in any respect, then will he come with sword and fire and lay waste the land and carry thee to Aachen to thy death."

No sooner were the words spoken than Marsilius seized a javelin and aimed it at the messenger's head, but Ganelon, standing his ground manfully, said, "What shall it bring thee to slay the messenger because the message was evil? I act but as the mouthpiece of my master. Under penalty of death have I come, or I should not have left the Christian camp. Behold, here is a letter which the great Charles has sent for thy perusal."

So saying, he handed King Marsilius a letter signed and sealed with the signet of the great king. His hands trembling with anger, Marsilius opened the letter and read, "I, King Charles, remembering well what thou didst to my servants, Basant and Basil, summon thee to send to me thy caliph who sitteth next thy throne on the right for me to do with him as I list."

The anger of Marsilius burned more strongly, and seizing a spear from one of his attendants he rushed at Ganelon and would have slain him on the spot had not Blancandrin interfered.

"Stay thy hand, O my master," he said, "for this man, Ganelon, hath promised to be our spy and work in our behalf."

Pleased with this show of Christian treachery, the Moslem king said, "Verily, Ganelon, thou wast near Death's door, but I will pardon thee and reward thee with one hundred pieces of gold. Take them and be faithful to us."

Ganelon accepted the price of his treason, saying, "That man is a fool who taketh not the goods which the G.o.ds place before him.

"Now truly, the old king, the aged Charles, is indeed weary of war, has glutted his pa.s.sion for wealth and would indeed grant thee peace and withdraw his army from Spain were it not that his captain, Roland, and Oliver, his friend, both men of war, are continually inciting the weary monarch to further warfare. They with the other peers of France do lead the king as they wish, for he is old and feeble. If only these and their twenty thousand picked men could be slain, then all the world would be at peace.

"Now listen to my counsel. Give the hostages to Charles as you had planned, and grant his every request. Then will he take his armies out of Spain, leaving only the rear guard to follow in his wake. This guard, the pride and strength of his army, is commanded by the captain Roland. As they leave Spain they will go through the narrow pa.s.s of Roncesvalles. Surround the valley with thy hosts and lie in wait for them. When they come fall upon them and slaughter them to the last man. The fight will be a bitter one, but thou shalt win." Having made Ganelon swear to the truth of what he had said and that things should come to pa.s.s as he predicted, Marsilius gave the traitor many jewels and rich garments and despatched him back to King Charles with the message they had framed.

When Ganelon came again to Charlemagne he told him that Marsilius had yielded every point and was already on his way to Aachen, where he would give up his religion and be baptized into the Christian faith.

Then was the great Charles filled with joy at this bloodless end to his long campaign, and right willingly he went before his warriors and told them the great news.

At last night fell upon the camp of rejoicing Christians, and Charles retired to his pavilion to sleep. But it was for him a terrible night filled with dreams and dark forebodings. He thought he was in a narrow pa.s.s closely pressed by deadly enemies and with no weapon in hand but an ashen spear. Count Ganelon, riding by, s.n.a.t.c.hed the spear from his hand and broke it into splinters. Then again he dreamed that he was back at home in the royal palace, but that a poisonous viper fastened itself upon his hands and in spite of all his efforts he could not remove it; and as he struggled unavailingly a leopard leaped upon him and bore him to the earth and would have killed him but for a favorite hound who rushed between and seized the leopard by the throat.

Viciously the two struggled, and Charles watched the terrible combat, but try as he might he could not see which animal was the victor.

When morning came, and the sun shone over the Christian camp, dispelling the mists of sleep from the brain of Charles, he knew he had been dreaming, but still he was not able to shake off the dread forebodings that weighed on his soul. The camps were struck and the hosts of Charles prepared to march from Spain.

"Whom shall I leave in command of the rear guard?" said the emperor to Ganelon.

"Leave Roland," replied the traitor; "he is the only man worthy of so important a post."

Roland only too willingly accepted the task, saying to Charles, "Give to me, I pray thee, the bow that is in thy hand. Trust me, I shall not let it fall as Ganelon let fall thy glove." The emperor handed the bow to Roland, and thus was he made captain of the rear guard. Oliver, his friend, remained behind with him and the twelve peers and Turpin, the Archbishop, besides twenty thousand picked warriors.

"Roland, my dear nephew," said the emperor, "behold, I leave with thee one half my army. Keep them safely for me."

"Fear nothing," Roland answered; "a good account shall I render of my charge."

Thus the king parted from Roland and marched away with the bulk of his army toward his own land. But ever as he pa.s.sed over the high mountains and through the deep ravines whose steep sides shut out the light of the sun and seemed about to topple upon him, his heart grew heavy with some strange oppression he could not understand. Ever and anon he turned to his bodyguard and said, "I much fear me that some terrible danger awaiteth our beloved Roland and the n.o.ble rear guard.

I feel that some treachery will be practised against them."

Even when he reached France the heaviness did not depart from his spirit, and he sat moody and disconsolate, his h.o.a.ry head bowed upon his hands, awaiting impatiently news from the rear guard.

No sooner had Marsilius learned that Ganelon was carrying out his plan and that Roland was to be left behind with only the rear guard, than he sent swift-riding messengers in every direction to summon his mighty men to meet him at Roncesvalles to await the coming of Roland.

Before the rear guard reached the pa.s.s, a vast army of four hundred thousand men lay concealed in the rocky and woody fastnesses around Roncesvalles. Every man pledged to fight Roland and his followers to the death.

Slowly the little army of Roland crossed the plains and toiled up the rocky pa.s.s and the steep mountain sides whence they could look down on Roncesvalles, where lay the only road they could follow. What was it they saw in the narrow valley before them? What could it be but the sunlight gleaming on the spears of armed men, marching through the valley and placing themselves in favorable positions upon the sides.

There seemed no limit to the mult.i.tude. They were like the blades of gra.s.s in a fair meadow, and the noise that arose from the moving mult.i.tude was like the murmur of the sea.

"Look," said Oliver to Roland; "Ganelon has played us false. What shall we do? This is a greater army than was ever gathered before for a single purpose, and they certainly mean our destruction."

"G.o.d grant it may be so," said Roland, "for sweet it is to battle for our country and our king. When we have rested a little we will push forward against the enemy."

"But," said Oliver, "we are a handful only, while they in number are as the sands of the sea. Before it is too late sound thy great horn, I pray thee, that possibly Charles may hear and return to our relief."

"The greater the host the greater the glory in defeating it," replied Roland. "Never shall it be said that Roland shirked his duty and brought disgrace upon his followers. We will not call the king back, but I promise you that the murderous Saracens shall repent the attack upon us. Already I feel them as good as dead."

Thrice did Oliver urge Roland to sound the horn for relief, but every time the n.o.ble paladin refused, saying, "G.o.d and his angels are with us. They fight upon our side. G.o.d will perform wonders for us, and will not let shame rest upon our banners."

Oliver climbed a great tree whence he could see not only the host in the valley, but mult.i.tudes concealed from the general view as far as the eye could reach. He begged Roland to climb also and see, but Roland answered st.u.r.dily, "Time enough to know the numbers of our enemies when we count the slain."

Then Archbishop Turpin gathered the warriors about him, and while the Franks kneeled on the ground he shrived them clean and blessed them in the name of G.o.d, saying, "It is a right good thing to die for king and faith, but fear not death, though it certainly now faces you. To-night shall we meet in Paradise wearing the crowns of the martyrs. Arise from your knees and in penance for your sins scourge ye the pagans."

Upon his great battle horse, Veillantif, Roland rode to and fro brandishing his good sword, Durendal, putting his warriors in battle array. Little need had he to urge faith and constancy, for there was not a man but loved his commander to the utmost, and cheerfully would follow him even unto death. When Roland looked upon the pagan host his face grew fierce and terrible, but as he turned it upon his men a mild and gentle expression stole over it, and he said, "My lords and barons, good comrades all, let no man spare his life to-day, but see only that he sells it dear. The lives of twenty pagans is a poor price for one of yours. I have promised to give a good account of you, and tonight the battlefield will tell how I have kept my word. G.o.d alone knows the issue of the combat, but I have no fear. Of a certainty, much praise and honor await us on earth and a martyr's crown in Paradise."

So saying, he p.r.i.c.ked the n.o.ble Veillantif with his golden spurs and set off at the head of the rear guard through the pa.s.s and down into the valley of death called Roncesvalles. Next following came Oliver, then Archbishop Turpin followed by the Twelve, and behind pushed forward the rear guard bearing aloft the snow-white banner of their king and shouting fiercely their battle cry, "Montjoy! Montjoy!"

[Footnote: Montjoy was the name given during the Middle Ages to any little rise of ground which lay on the line between two territorial divisions. As such a spot was a common meeting place of hostile armies, the term Montjoy came to be used as a war cry.]

Savage and b.l.o.o.d.y was the battle, beyond the words of man to describe.

Roland's ashen spear crashed through the brazen armor, skin, and bone of fifteen pagans before it shivered in his hands and he was compelled to draw the fair Durendal from its sheath.

Roland saw Oliver fighting with only the lesser half of his spear, and riding to him exclaimed, "Draw thy sword, comrade, and slay the enemy."

But Oliver replied, "Not so long as a handful of the stump remains.

To-day are weapons precious."

All Twelve and the whole rear guard fought like men possessed, and before each lay a tale of pagan slain. No man sought to protect himself except by the slaughter of his enemies.

"Thank G.o.d," said Archbishop Turpin, as he rested for a moment, "thank G.o.d that I live to see the rear guard fight to-day."

The sun climbed the heavens, and it was noon, and not a Christian gave way. Wheresoever he planted his foot there he stayed until he could advance or until he died. The n.o.ble guard hewed down the pagans by the hundreds until the earth was heaped with the slain. Where Roland stood wielding Durendal, dripping with blood from point to hilt, lay a circle of dead Moslems, for from every side the mult.i.tude came to compa.s.s the death of Roland.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WHERESOEVER HE PLANTED HIS FOOT, THERE HE STAYED]