King Eric and the Outlaws Volume Ii Part 10

The herald then beckoned, and the two pursuivants advanced to receive the swords of the prisoners, and lead them to their confinement. All the guests rose in astonishment, and the king's knights and halberdiers drew their swords.

"Confounded mummery!" muttered the tall knight, Brock, as he rose.

"There, herald!" he called in a loud voice, and threw his glove on the table--"Take that to my accuser! wherever he meets me, my good sword shall prove him to be a liar and a fool--where is he? Dare he not name himself and look me in the face?"

"Here he stands!" said a voice from the door of the dining hall, and Drost Aage stood there erect and calm on the threshold, with his hand on his sword, gazing with a searching look on the three accused knights.

"I laugh at the accusation of a dreamer and a visionary," cried Brock in a proud and scornful tone. "We meet. Sir Drost! I do but deposit my sword in the hands of these men that I may receive it to-morrow, acquitted by the king and knighthood, after washing out the blot here cast on mine and my friends' honour with the blood of the calumniator."

He then delivered up his sword to the pursuivants.

Papae had risen likewise; he also threw his glove with a contemptuous smile on the table--"There lies my pledge." he said, "and here is my answer to my accuser, whoever he may be, even though he should be given over to the devil, and the destruction of the flesh." So saying, he flung his large battle sword on the flagged floor at the herald's feet.

They then both went with haughty and hasty strides out of the door, casting one or two flashing glances at the Drost, and with the pretended Ako Krummedige between them. This silent and disguised knight had become as blanched in the face as his slit trencher-napkin. He had given up his sword to the pursuivants; no sound issued from his blue compressed lips--but his glance rolled with fearful wildness beneath his bushy and blackened eyebrows; his legs tottered under him, and he was forced to take hold of the strong Sir Niels to keep himself from sinking on the floor. The Drost himself followed these dangerous prisoners to see that the formalities of their imprisonment were legally and properly conducted.

This singular occurrence had excited great astonishment. The general silence was soon succeeded by a low whispering. The two daring knights were well known; every one was aware that they were suspected of having abetted the archbishop's flight. It was also known that they belonged to the discontented in the land;--of friends they had not a few; and they pa.s.sed for brave, independent lovers of their country, who cared not to flatter royalty, but had strength and courage to maintain the liberties of the people, and their own rights in council against the mightiest. That they should have joined in treasonable conspiracies did not seem probable; and it was supposed the Drost had been too precipitate in making this singular charge. As the king's favourite, he was not free from the attacks of envy. "It is sad to think of the young Drost," whispered one of the junker's knights, "he is such a dreamer he scents treason everywhere, and makes the king to be hated, by his ill-timed zeal." Respecting the unknown knight with the helmet, and his guilt, there were many conjectures; he appeared in a suspicious light to most of the company--but that one of the outlaws should have dared to enter into the king's presence and sit at his table, seemed an act of such presumptuous daring, that none believed it to be possible.

Meanwhile, all took their seats. Although the wine-flasks soon went round, the company appeared, however, unable to forget the unpleasant transaction which had clouded the king's countenance, as well as his step-father's; and, as it seemed, had also thrown Junker Christopher into an anxious and uneasy mood. It was not until all were seated, that Drost Aage again entered the supper hall. He also was silent and depressed. He took his seat directly opposite the king and Junker Christopher. The three nearest knights rose to make room for him, according to the ancient usages of the table, and he sat down without saying a word respecting the accused and their crime. He seemed lost in reverie, and appeared not to notice the unusual flagging of the conversation around him; but his attention was in reality rivetted with affectionate sympathy on the deep emotion he thought he discovered in the king's countenance. The gloomy sternness before depicted in it seemed now to be lost in thoughtful sadness. Eric sat with his wine cup in his hand, and regarded with a kindly look his friend and step-father Count Gerhard; at last he nodded involuntarily, and turned towards his reconciled foe, Duke Eric of Langeland. "A health in honour of the negotiator of peace and of my reconciled kinsman!" he said, suddenly rising from his seat. All the knights stood up--and the king continued--"Even this feast in honour of peace hath been made gloomy to me by traitors; they shall have their deserts; to-morrow is the day for pa.s.sing sentence; to-day we will not think on it. At _this_ moment, I trust in the Lord and our blessed Lady that no secret traitor drains a cup in our hall. Long live Count Gerhard and Duke Eric!"

"Long life to them, and long live our n.o.ble king!" was echoed from mouth to mouth, with great and nearly universal enthusiasm, while the goblets rang, and the horn-players, on a signal from the herald, made their instruments resound through the hall.

Junker Christopher had also joined in the general shout of acclamation, and the king appeared especially to rejoice at hearing his brother's voice so animated on this occasion. His eye sought the junker's while he rung his gla.s.s against his; but Christopher's glance was cold, restless, and irresolute, while his cheek glowed, and he twisted the corner of his napkin with his left hand. A smothered sigh escaped the king's breast as he again resumed his seat. Aage now observed, with great astonishment, that there was a large rent in Junker Christopher's napkin, which he was vainly striving to conceal with his hand. The king seemed to have made the same discovery at the same instant. He had suddenly changed colour, and his countenance expressed a fearful degree of wrath and grief; he made a movement as if he were about to start up, but instantly recovered himself by a strong internal effort; he set down his cup directly before him on the table, and, by pushing his own napkin from him, contrived to hide with it the rent in his brother's.

A look of affectionate admiration from Drost Aage was repressed by a stern glance of the king's serious eye while he laid his finger on his lips. "Music!" he called, and gave a signal to the herald. The hall soon resounded with lively hunting horns. The gravity of the guests presently disappeared, and each talked gaily with his neighbour; the king himself appeared gay and in spirits, although Aage, indeed, remarked that it cost him a desperate effort. When the castle chaplain, at the conclusion of the feast, was about to p.r.o.nounce the blessing, all the knights had become so joyous and loud-tongued, that the herald was twice compelled to remind them of the etiquette of the table. When the repast was ended the king retired in haste to his private chamber, and beckoned gravely to Aage to follow him. When Christopher rose, he threw his napkin, as if by accident, under the table; he then went out on the hall balcony, and whistled; soon afterwards the prince's large hunting-hound came bounding through the hall, with a crumpled napkin in his mouth.

The king had entered the private chamber with Aage; he had thrown himself into a chair, and held his hand before his eyes. He remained a long time in this posture. Aage stood in silence opposite to him, regarding him with a look of sorrowful sympathy. The king at last took his hand from his eyes, and he appeared to have wept. "Who hath dared to destroy love and confidence between brothers?" he exclaimed; "if it was you, Drost Aage, it is the last time I call you my Drost."

"I it was not, my n.o.ble liege!" answered Aage; "_who_ it was I know not. May the Lord pardon that man among your true servants who so unwisely and rashly hath grieved you! It must have been done secretly, and without the herald's knowledge."

"I despise a secret accusation," continued the king; "it is unlawful; it is in a high degree deserving of chastis.e.m.e.nt; it shall--yet no--no examination can take place in this case. If he _is_ a traitor," he continued, and deep grief was again visible in his countenance, "were he capable! Be it as G.o.d wills--_I_ injure not a hair of his head.

Should I disgrace my father in his children? Should I doom my mother's son outlawed and dishonoured? Should I myself, Great G.o.d!----" He paused, and his hair seemed to stand on end with horror. "Look at me, Aage," he resumed; "could _such_ a thought be harboured here?" He laid his hand on his high and glowing forehead. "It burns within," he continued; "but no unseen Cain's mark burns there. My hand was sternly raised against him--love me he cannot--fear me he must. Well! let him tremble before his liege and sovereign until he learns to love his brother. Now, not a word more of this! It is perhaps only spite and slander. Who dares charge my left hand of treachery against the right?

I know nothing as yet--I _will_ know nothing--I have known enough of evil----" He began again after a thoughtful pause, and with a gloomy downcast look--"have I not had traitors around me since I was a child?

Have I not seen my father murdered, and his shameless murderers in my presence? Have not their b.l.o.o.d.y hands been secretly and openly raised against my life from the hour in which I doomed them outlawed? yet have they not had the power to touch me," he continued with cheerfulness, and raised his head. "No a.s.sa.s.sin's dagger hath yet reached me, even though excommunicated and given over to the Evil One. I know it, Aage; I have seen it--the hand of the righteous Lord was betwixt me and my deadly foes. No traitor and murderer--not even a soul murderer--no sinful archbishop or pope--not the arch-fiend himself--shall shake the crown upon this head." As he said these words he raised his hand and looked upwards with a glance of almost prophetic inspiration, and there was a n.o.bleness and majesty in his countenance which seemed capable of humbling the most presumptuous foe.

"My liege!" exclaimed Aage, with heartfelt joy, "the spirit which speaks through you at this hour is not alone the spirit of royalty and justice, but surely that of love also."

"Go to my brother, my faithful Aage," interrupted the king hastily; "take him this----" He took a gold chain from his neck, to which hung an image of the Madonna. "Pray him to accept this jewel from his brother, as a memorial of this celebration of peace. Tell him our unhappy father wore this image to the day of his death." The king turned hastily away, and seemed desirous to hide the sorrowful emotion which had caused his voice to falter. Aage stood with the chain in his hand, and was about to give vent to the warmth of his feelings; but the king turned suddenly, and said, in a stern voice, "Tomorrow a council of knights will be held. The accused shall be arraigned, and defend themselves if they can. All are equal here with respect to the law--be they friends or foes. Woe to the accuser who hath not ample proof, were he even my dearest friend! Go! and the Lord be with thee."

Aage bowed in silence, with wounded feelings, and would have departed, but the king, on perceiving his emotion, stretched out his arms towards him, and pressed him to his heart, without saying a word more.

Aage hastily departed with the chain. When the king was alone in his chamber, he put his hand into his vest, and drew forth a rosary, garnished with pearls and rubies. "Thy Christmas gift when we were children, my Ingeborg!" he said, with deep emotion. "What thou knewest I would ask for besides, thy angel joined me in prayer for at the throne of Grace.--Christopher! Christopher! may G.o.d forgive thee the thought thine eye betrayed!" He then imprinted a kiss on the rosary, replaced it in his vest, and sat down quietly before his table to attend to state affairs.

CHAP. XI.

Early the next morning a herald-pursuivant stood in Drost Aage's sleeping apartment, with his large plumed hat in one hand, and a long, pointed sword in the other. The Drost hastened to put on his garments, while he listened with anxious attention to the information which was given him. The three accused knights had disappeared in the night, together with the men-at-arms, who had relieved guard at midnight before the door of the knights' story. Sir Niels Brock's and Sir Johan Papae's horses had been taken out of the stable--none of their squires or servants were to be seen in the castle; but the large well-fed horse which the pretended Sir Ako Krummedige had bestrode was still standing in the stable. The pursuivant who brought these tidings to the Drost delivered to him, at the same time, the sword which at the repast of the preceding evening he had received from the mysterious knight with the helmet, and drew the Drost's attention to a singular contrivance in it. The hilt was hollow, and contained a fluid, which, by means of a spring, might be imparted to the blade. A dog, whose skin had been scratched with this sword, had died in convulsions.

"Ha! a poisoned weapon!" exclaimed Aage in alarm, returning the sword with a look of horror; "take it instantly before the judgment hall of the castle--Thou canst of course bear witness on oath from whom thou didst receive it?"

"That I shall find it hard to do. Sir Drost, seeing no one knows who he really is," answered the pursuivant; "but that it was the dumb knight with the helmet--him they call Sir Krummedige--I can take my oath upon.

I should also announce, Sir Drost," he continued, "that the junker's gentleman of the bedchamber, Sir Palle, died last night of his wound, although it was so trifling that we jeered him about it almost to the last. The surgeon swears he hath been wounded by a three-edged poisoned dagger."

"Our Lady be merciful unto us!" exclaimed Aage. "His deadly terror was then but too well founded--We have had a poisoner then as our guest!

Even now he may perhaps be among us!"

The Drost hastily left his chamber. Soon afterwards Marsk Oluffsen's rough voice was heard in the court of the castle, and ere it rang for mattins a knight, at the head of a troop of horse, rode at full gallop out of the castle gate. The Marsk himself, it was said, was gone to the chase. He dashed on with a number of hunters and hounds through the park. The Drost searched the whole castle. Ere mattins were ended, the Marsk and his huntsmen brought a bound captive to the tower. It was the mute knight with the helmet. His beard and eyebrows had changed colour, and it was soon known that he was one of the outlaws.

Amid the bustle caused at the castle by providing for the court, and attending on its numerous guests, much notice was not attracted towards these serious proceedings. The expected tournament and the knightly festivities occupied every one. The squires polished their master's arms and costly saddle-furniture; the prancing chargers were trained and tended; and the mild spring weather seemed to promise a bright day for the festivity. From the town and the neighbourhood crowds of gaily attired persons flocked to the castle. The splendidly accoutred knights careered eagerly and indefatigably with each other. All the castle windows which looked on the tilt-yard were already crowded with richly attired ladies, and most persons seemed to have forgotten both mattins and ma.s.s for the festival. It was whispered, indeed, that the tournament would not take place; but no one was disposed to believe this, as workmen began to bestir themselves, and preparations were still carried on, which kept expectation alive. Meanwhile the king was seen to ride as usual to ma.s.s with his princely guests, attended by his halberdiers. He was grave and thoughtful. Junker Christopher rode in gloomy silence by his side; he wore over his breast the large gold chain, with the image of the Madonna, which the king was wont to wear himself; and this token of distinction was regarded as a sign that all misunderstanding must have been removed between the brothers. The junker's eye meanwhile avoided the king's, and not one word was exchanged between them on the road to and from church.

After ma.s.s, the king instantly repaired to the knights' hall with all his men, and it was announced by the heralds that a knights' council, and a court of justice would be held. The tournament and the other festivities were in the meantime announced by the Marsk to be given up; and people now flocked to the knights' hall to see the king administer justice among his knights. He sat with an unusually stern and grave aspect on the raised ivory throne, and was surrounded by regal state and splendour. He first examined into the conduct of some young knights who were accused of minor faults and transgressions of the laws of chivalry. Those who either could not prove their innocence according to the established proceedings of temporal justice, or where doubt was entertained, relied on sword and lance, for redeeming their honour were sternly banished the castle; but those who acknowledged and repented a pardonable error, obtained permission by bold and knightly deeds, to regain their place and rank among the king's men.

The Drost now stepped forth in his own and in the name of the murdered Sir Palle, with an accusation against the pretended Sir Ako Krummidige, as the a.s.sa.s.sin of that slain knight, as well as against Sir Niels Brock and Sir Johan Papae, as traitors and secret conspirators against state and crown, and he craved permission, in case the testimony he brought forward was not considered sufficient to establish his charge, to confirm it with sword and lance, to be judged by G.o.d, in a combat for life and death with the traitors. As the two knights so seriously accused, had escaped by unlawful flight, they were proclaimed to be suspected, and cited to appear and defend themselves before the expiration of six weeks and one day, if they would not be pa.s.sed sentence upon as traitors; but the pretended Ako Krummedige, whose real name was now discovered by sufficient evidence, was led before the tribunal. He was clad in the ancient armour in which he was attired on his first arrival; he wore also the helmet and shield he had brought with him from the monastery, and on which the famous armorial bearings of the n.o.ble family of the Hvides were noticed for the first time; but he had no sword by his side, and was surrounded by a strong guard. The glossy black was removed from his stiff beard, which now resembled the bristles of a boar; and from his bushy, meeting-eyebrows which were considered by the lower orders as a [9]"Wolfman's mark." and by which the outlawed Sir Kagge was especially distinguished.

He was pale, and stared wildly around him. When he heard himself named and accused, and beheld the king in the large circle of attentive knights, he seemed to struggle against appearing cast down or humbled.

He raised his head, and stepped forward with a bold and haughty look, and even with the a.s.sumption of a degree of knightly dignity. "I greet thee, King Eric Ericson!" he said, in a loud voice. "I greet every brave knight who serves with honour here at court! Christ preserve every dear son of Denmark from the misfortune which brings me hither!

But if there be brave and true Danish men here present, the man who became outlawed for Denmark's freedom and the honour of Danish chivalry will not lack weapons and defenders."

"Talk not of freedom and honour, _thou_ who hast nought but effrontery and deeds of infamy to boast of!" began the king with calm and cold contempt. "Under the name of a pious and honourable man, thou hast crept into my hall among men of honour, and abused the sacred laws of chivalry, to hide deceit and treachery. Thy mask hath fallen off traitor! thy poisoned weapon hath betrayed thee--Thou wert chased from Denmark for a Judas deed; yet still thou hast dared to enter my presence. _One_ a.s.sa.s.sination thou hast already perpetrated in my royal castle, and another thou hast meditated--Canst thou deny it? Hast thou a word to say in thy defence, miscreant?"

The prisoner bit his lips, and ground his teeth. "If I come not precisely from the holy sepulchre," he muttered, "I come, however, from the graves of kinsmen and friends, and from the corpses of murdered comrades. The fool whose mouth I have stopped, was a soulless lump of flesh, on whom I did but whet my dagger. What I purposed besides, is no concern of any one; but what I had promised, it was my fixed resolve to perform. Against tyrants no weapon is dishonourable, King Eric! and if an outlawed man hath neither rights nor safety, how then can you suppose he will let himself be bound by your pitiful laws?"

"Have ye considered the matter, my knights!" said the king; "then p.r.o.nounce doom upon this audacious criminal, according to the laws of G.o.d and man!"

"He hath forfeited honour and life, according to the laws of the land,"

was the unanimous verdict. "According to strict justice, he hath even forfeited hand and eye." The herald p.r.o.nounced the doom in a loud voice.

When Kagge heard his death doom, his knees shook, and he looked around him with a rapid and searching glance, as if expecting to find defenders or protectors against the sentence, among the spectators, but there was a death-like stillness; no one moved tongue or hand in his defence. He seemed humbled, and now bent on one knee before the tribunal. "Bethink you, King Eric!" he said, in a supplicating tone, "I served in your royal father's castle, and he himself gave me the praise of being the best squire he had. His death was never my wish, I would have saved him had it been in my power; although he had broken his contract and had himself loosened the tie which bound Denmark's crown to his head."

"I remember well thou didst serve in my father's castle, for hire and for garments," answered the king; "but I know, and every man in Denmark knows, also, that thou wert in Finnerup barn, on that b.l.o.o.d.y St.

Cecilia's eve, and thy sword was not the _last which_ was plunged into the breast of thy unhappy master and king. As a faithless traitor and regicide thou wert however but outlawed while I was a minor, but now thou shalt suffer just punishment, as surely as I wear Denmark's crown!"

"Is there not a single free man here, who dares to speak a word for me?" cried the captive, springing up with a wild look. "Ha! slaves of a tyrant! I despise ye," he continued, looking frantically around him.

"The deed for which I was outlawed, was the proudest ever achieved by Danish man. A tyrant's murder hath been an honoured deed so long as the world hath stood, wherever a spark of freedom was in the spirit of the people--Now there are nought but cowardly slaves in Denmark, and it shames me to call you countrymen. There you stand aghast! because a bold word is heard again in kingly hall--You have courage only for crawling in the dust before a revengeful despot, and to doom the last friend of freedom to the scaffold--Is it not enough for you to see my blood? Will you saw off my hands and feet? Will you pluck out my eyes, that no free man may see you blush? Will you deal thus with a descendant of Skialm--Hvide's n.o.ble race? I am a knight," he added proudly. "I demand but to be judged by the law of knighthood--That is recognised over all the world, but under this country's laws I stand no longer."

"Who dubbed thee a knight? asked the king, with a contemptuous look.

"The greatest knight in Denmark's kingdom," answered the captive, drawing himself up with a look of defiance. "The man whose shoe latchet no knight here was worthy to loose--The Marsk of Denmark's kingdom, Stig Anderson Hvide, and if your chivalrous bearing is aught else than empty boast and mockery, King Eric, you will suffer me to be judged with equity according to the law which is as the apple of your eye."

"Be it so, by all the holy men!" exclaimed the king with glowing cheeks; "according to the law of chivalry shall thy doom be executed, since thou dost thyself demand it, and thou shalt learn what it is to be doomed to dishonour. The knighthood which an outlawed regicide gave thee is truly but little honour worth, nevertheless thou shalt not take it with thee to thy dishonourable death. Thy hands and feet thou shalt keep, and thy false eyes also--but the honour thou boastest of, thou shalt lose according to law, for the sake of chivalry--and thy life for my father's sake alone."

At a signal from the king, the captive was now removed, and a council of the oldest knights met together to decide upon the mode of carrying the sentence into execution, according to the laws of chivalry.

Three hours afterwards, the captive was led in full knightly armour, and on horseback, to a high scaffold within the lists, under which the king himself appeared on horseback, surrounded by all his knights. The castle chaplain stood on the scaffold, at the head of a row of monks from the Dominican monastery. The captive was led up hither, not indeed to suffer death, but, according to the laws of chivalry to be ejected from the community of knights in a manner the most degrading. There was a crowd a.s.sembled; all the windows of the castle, as well as the stands on the lists were thronged with curious spectators. From the window of the servants' hall, close by the maidens' tower, peeped forth a fair little inquisitive face which was remarked for its beauty and animation; it was the captive Lady Ulrica, who without knowing what was going forward, had persuaded the tractable Karen to take her with her, to see the great procession which was talked of. No one knew what was to happen. The whole transaction was. .h.i.therto unknown in Denmark, where the young King Eric was the first sovereign who endeavoured to introduce all the usages of chivalry, and the novelty and mystery of the proceeding, tended still more to heighten curiosity. Ulrica beheld the priests on the high scaffold, and a knight in full armour led upon it: his back was turned to the window, and she did not recognise him. A rough sour-visaged man in a red cloak, with an iron club in hand, now stepped forward, he looked like an executioner, but however carried neither sword nor axe. He tore the shield from the knight, and struck off his armour; after which he broke the shield and armour into pieces with his iron club, and cast the fragments at his feet.

"Gracious heaven! Is this an execution?" cried Ulrica in dismay. The knight was now led down from the scaffold. He turned his pale and terrible countenance towards her, and she recognised him. "Kagge!

righteous heaven!" she exclaimed with a shriek, and sank swooning in the arms of her attendants. They hastened to carry her back to the tower, and to the fostering care of her gentle sister.

The armorial bearings were taken from Kagge's broken shield; they were now, together with the shield, fastened to the tail of a mare, and thus dragged in the mire through the streets of Wordingborg, followed by the scoffs of the herald, which were echoed by the enraged mob.