The Childhood of King Erik Menved Part 73

"Ha! thou--my deadly foe!" he cried, rushing madly towards him; but his vision forsook him, and he heard but the clash against his breastplate of the dagger, which, glancing aside, remained deep in his left shoulder. Uttering a cry of terror, he let fall his sword, and reeled backwards.

"Fly, fly! G.o.d has doomed us!" he cried, wildly, as, with a desperate leap, he regained his own ship.

His knights followed him, and, perceiving the battle was lost, quickly hoisted sail and took to flight, leaving the victory in the hands of the royalists.

The sudden appearance of the Danebrog seemed to have rendered every man of the king's soldiers invincible. From Thorstenson's ship arose a loud shout of victory; and Count Gerhard had also so entirely cleared his decks, that the severely wounded Duke Erik, finding himself nearly alone, sprang overboard, and saved his life by swimming to his brother's vessel. The royal ships were filled with slain or captured foemen; whilst of the duke's fleet, which was altogether broken up, a number of vessels were sunk, and others captured--the duke himself escaping with great difficulty and danger.

Old Sir John, whose wound had been bound up, now received, with feelings of pleasure, the thanks of the king for the brave defence he had made. His wound was not dangerous; although the heavy blow had stunned him, and he felt with regret that he could no longer wield his sword as in his youthful days. From the p.o.o.p, and over the heads of the king and the aged knight, waved the sacred Dannebrog banner, which had been entrusted to the custody of the trabants by Drost Peter, whilst he hastened to aid Thorstenson in completing the victory. In the tumult of battle, only a few had recognised him.

"The Almighty be praised!" cried the chancellor, kneeling, and raising his folded hands towards heaven, as, with a loud voice, he began to chaunt the _Te Deum laudamus_, in which the ecclesiastics joined, and during which the king and Sir John, with all else on board, continued reverently kneeling.

Scarcely was the solemn hymn of victory ended, before the chivalrous Drost Peter and Thorstenson were observed in a fishing-boat, hastening towards the king's ship, accompanied by old Henner Friser and Skirmen.

The drost sprang on board, and congratulated the king on his victory, whilst, with a loud exclamation of delight, the young victor rushed into his arms.

"Thou it was--thou it was!" cried young Erik--"thou broughtest me victory with my ancestor's banner."

Drost Peter bowed his head, and raised his hand solemnly towards heaven.

"Yea, the Lord be praised! for from Him alone comes victory!" exclaimed the king, with emotion, whilst he again embraced his faithful friend.

Drost Peter was greatly exhausted by his hurried journey. He had been fearful of arriving too late for the battle, and had also suffered much, after his escape from prison, in his exertions to obtain possession of the important banner, whose singular influence on the people, ever since the days of Waldemar Seier, was well known; it being their pious belief that, with this their national standard, and with confidence in G.o.d, they were sure to conquer. Its effect on Duke Waldemar had also been of vital importance. His right arm was paralysed from the moment when Drost Peter returned him the traitor-dagger, stained with the heart's-blood of King Erik Christopherson, and it was now with reason hoped that he would never more raise it against the crown of Denmark.

Drost Peter's unexpected arrival produced great joy on board the king's ship. All crowded around him, while he briefly related how old Henner, with Aase and Skirmen, had contrived to procure his escape from Nordborg Castle, and a.s.sisted him in obtaining possession of the national standard. He then presented to the king the faithful old Henner and the active squire, both of whom had contributed to the victory--the latter by boring the holes in the enemy's vessels; while the idea of the soap and lime, which the king considered more novel than chivalrous, belonged altogether to Henner, who had pretended to the drost that he had a design of trading in these articles.

"Kneel!" said the young king, turning to Skirmen: "I shall dub thee a knight, for thou hast merited the honour, and I exempt thee from the usual proofs."

With tears of joy in his dark eyes, and an exclamation of grat.i.tude, the brave squire knelt and received the stroke of knighthood in the name of G.o.d and the Holy Virgin.

The king then beckoned to Aage Jonsen, whose numerous yet not dangerous wounds had, meanwhile, been bound up. "Thou, too," said the king--"thou hast defended my life today like a hero, as thou didst at Tornborg."

Aage knelt in silence, and arose a knight.

"I desire not knighthood on account of the soap-pots, sir king," said old Henner; "but, by my troth, the soap was capital--and the carls required it much."

"If thou canst not be a knight, ingenious old man," replied the king, "thou canst be a steersman, and such from this day thou art."

Old Henner was greatly affected: he spoke not a word, but bent his knee, and kissed the hand of the young king, who, however, hastily withdrew it, for a tear which had fallen from the old warrior's eyes had scalded him.

In the midst of the general joy, Count Gerhard had come on board, when, after having heartily embraced Drost Peter, both he and Thorstenson received the thanks and commendations of the king, who now heard in detail how matters had fared in the count's ship, and how Duke Longlegs had sprung overboard.

"Take the fleetest boat, Count Gerhard," said the king, extending his hand to him, "and proceed to Helsingborg, where my mother, the queen, is expecting tidings of us. Carry her the account of our victory, and I promise you that you shall then obtain what you have so long and so ardently desired."

On hearing these words, the brave count could no longer constrain himself. He embraced the king, Drost Peter, old Henner, the jester, and, in fact, every one around him, and with difficulty refrained from taking the young king in his st.u.r.dy arms, and dancing with him on the p.o.o.p.

"Shame befall me," he cried, "if there shall not be a dance at Helsingborg, in which I'll share." And in an instant he stood in Henner's fishing-boat. "Sir Steersman Henner," he exclaimed, "you shall take me to Helsingborg. n.o.body steers a boat like you."

"Right willingly," cried Henner, following him into the boat. "I promised you good luck, and you see I have kept my word."

The boat was already leaving the king's ship, when one long leg, followed by another, came sprawling over the gunwale: the long-shanked jester would follow his happy master.

The rumour that the great sea-fight was expected to take place in Gronsund, had reached Helsingborg the same day on which it was fought.

On that evening Queen Agnes, in great anxiety, sat in her closet, and every other moment quitted her seat to gaze out over the Sound. That the young king was with the fleet she knew; and that her devoted knight and suitor, Count Gerhard, who had gone to his aid, would dare the utmost, she felt certain. On leaving Kiel to join the fleet, he had sent to her a formal declaration of his love; and her affectionate answer to his letter now lay on the table before her, ready to be forwarded to him on the following day. She had despatched three fleet skiffs, one after the other, to bring her intelligence from Gronsund; but they had encountered a storm in the Sound, and were now all three beating about off Dragoe, when Count Gerhard, in Henner's little fishing-boat, pa.s.sed them.

"The cross shield us--they will perish!" cried the seamen from Helsingborg, when, by the moonlight, they perceived the little fishing-yawl driven by, and every instant threatened with destruction by the surging billows.

The queen was ignorant of this her lover's danger; but the violence of the storm augmented her apprehensions concerning the battle. To conceal her anxiety, she had directed her ladies to retire, and, in her present loneliness, she felt as if her own and Denmark's fate depended on the message she that night expected. All the gloomy images of her chequered life seemed united in one single event, which threatened entirely to crush her heart, and banish that bright hope in which she had found a recompense for all her losses, and a comfort for all her misfortunes.

If the battle were lost, and the young king slain, then would there be an end of Denmark's freedom and of her own maternal joy; and, if the trusty Count Gerhard had fallen, then was her letter to him, which now lay before her, but a mournful testimony of the great and true happiness she had lost.

The night pa.s.sed on: the wax-lights flickered on the table, and the storm howled in the chimney, but the queen still sat, sorrowfully contemplating her letter to Count Gerhard, in the seal of which she was represented as kneeling in a church before a virgin and child, with a winged cherub holding a crown above her head.[47]

"Take the crown, Lord, and guard it," she sighed, "but let not the angel fly away. Leave him to watch over me, and over him who is dearer to me than all the crowns in the world."

She had drawn forth her diary, in which the dearest of all her heart's confessions was not yet expressly inscribed, although in the latter portions of it Count Gerhard was mentioned oftener than herself, especially from the time when she had presented him with her veil, and chosen him her knight and protector.

The image of her faithful knight had subdued every anxious thought in the heart of the fair queen, when suddenly there arose an unusual noise from the gardens beneath her window. She approached the balcony, and, by the moonlight, perceived a crowd of people on the quay, where the pilots were engaged in dragging a small boat through the surf; and in the next moment she heard the shout of "Victory, victory! The count--the one-eyed count!" She uttered an exclamation of thanksgiving, and, overcome with joy, tottered to a seat in her inmost apartment.

Shortly after, the palace resounded with the joyful tidings of victory; and, within an hour, the queen, surrounded by her entire court, stood in the brilliantly illuminated audience-chamber, where the fortunate bearer of the intelligence knelt, and laid at her feet his sword and the banner of the vanquished enemy.

Whilst the whole palace shone with light, and re-echoed with sounds of mirth and festivity, Count Gerhard learned from the queen's own lips what was contained in the letter with the red seal on her table, and his happiness was complete.

The joy created by this victory was soon after increased by the tidings, that the fortress of Hunehal, in Halland, had been stormed by the royalists, and the proud Count Jacob taken prisoner. The victory itself was followed by important results; for the Norwegian king, who, with his fleet, had arrived too late, abandoned altogether his expedition against Denmark; and shortly after a friendly meeting between the two monarchs took place at Hindsgavl, where a truce was concluded preliminary to a treaty of peace, which in its conditions should be equally honourable to both kingdoms. Duke Waldemar, too, through his amba.s.sadors, had proposed terms which could be accepted; and, after the convention of Hindsgavl, no further measures were taken against the outlaws, who, however, were strictly forbidden ever to show themselves in the presence of the King of Denmark.

On a fine clear day in autumn great festivities and rejoicings were held at Helsingborg Castle. It was the bridal day of the fair Queen Agnes and Count Gerhard, whose sister, the dowager Queen Hedvig of Sweden, together with the entire Danish and Swedish courts, were present. The rejoicings, which were intended to celebrate at once a victory, a peace, and a marriage, were attended with a tournament, in the tilting of which, however, Count Gerhard took no part. He sat in the royal balcony, by the side of Queen Agnes; and although he seemed in some constraint in his fine bridal suit, yet the joy that sparkled in his honest eye showed him to be supremely happy; whilst, from the n.o.ble features of his majestic regal bride, beamed an expression of unsurpa.s.sed sweetness.

Next to her, and as Denmark's future queen, the little Princess Ingeborg was the object of universal admiration and knightly homage.

During the tourney she sat, well pleased and happy, by the side of the young, chivalrous King Erik, where they conversed together with all the tenderness of brother and sister. Sir John had to dash away a tear of joy from his aged eyes when he looked upon this youthful pair, who, with innocent childish glee, were playing only, as it were, at bridegroom and bride, unconscious of any other affection than that which they felt, with mutual ardour, for the land and people over whom they were destined to rule.

With similar feelings the Swedish knights and n.o.bles regarded the young King Berger and the little Danish Princess Merete, who, also, as parties affianced, sat side by side, witnessing the tournament.

On this occasion, the prize was won by Drost Peter Hessel, who, bowing profoundly, received it from the hand of the fair Queen Agnes, whilst, as his eyes glanced over the brilliant ranks of dames, they rested with a look of intense affection on the tall lady who occupied the chief seat among the damsels of the Princess Ingeborg. It was Jomfru Inge Little, whom he had not seen since they parted in Kolding Fiord. Her father, he was aware, still lay a prisoner in Kallundborg Castle, it being only in tenderness to the feelings of Sir John that the king had so long deferred his sentence, because his treason was manifest, although his partic.i.p.ation in the late king's murder yet wanted proof.

Jomfru Inge had been absent from the tournament until that moment, and Drost Peter had inquired for her in vain. Great was his joy, therefore, on now beholding her; but it soon changed to anxious grief, when he perceived the impress of a deep sorrow on her beautiful countenance; while her look, cast on the ground, seemed studiously averted from his.

He hastily left the lists, and retired, to indulge his melancholy, near the Sound, whilst the royal parties and their respective attendants re-entered the riddersal, where the nuptials were farther to be celebrated with a ball and sumptuous banquet.

Drost Peter stood long by the Sound, gazing steadfastly in the direction of Flynderborg. The days of his childhood came before him, and his thoughts reverted to the time when, as a knight and drost, he had again seen his childhood's bride, and heard her sing with animation of--

"The king who ruled the castle, And eke ruled all the land."

The dangerous position in which his king and country had been placed allowed him of late but little time to think of his own heart's affairs; but now the sorrowful image of Jomfru Inge had awakened in his soul a powerful desire to achieve her happiness, and partake it with her. That she should feel grief for her father and his uncertain fate, was but natural; but why she should now seek to avoid her true and attached knight, and even to deny him a kindly look, he could not comprehend. The thought that she might have forgotten him for a more fortunate suitor, for an instant only, like a threatening demon, crossed his mind, but did not reach his heart. He remembered how he had regarded, as a messenger of love from her, every friendly bird that twittered outside the gratings of his prison; and, shaking his head, with a melancholy smile he repeated the beautiful verses of the old ballad:--

"A bird so small from the white strand flew, And she sang, Where is my heart's love true?

"A bird so small o'er the sea flew wide, And he sang, O where is my own true bride?"