For The White Christ Part 71

Worms during the wedding of Fastrada was not more gay than was now the little burg on the Aisne. All the court and all the townfolk rejoiced with their king in the fond belief that the b.l.o.o.d.y Saxon struggle had at last come to an end. The streets were thronged with revellers, through whose midst Olvir, m.u.f.fled in his cowl, walked unnoted behind Liutrad's horse, straight to the great palace built by the second Clovis.

No official would have thought to bar the entrance of the king's favorite scribe into the most private apartments of the king, without Karl's express command, and where Liutrad went, he had no difficulty in gaining admittance for his priestly fellow. But when they came near the door of the king's chamber, Liutrad thought it best that he should wait outside in the pa.s.sage. While they stood talking, they heard within the sibilant, purring voice of the queen, and at the same time the Grand Doorward approached, to inquire their purpose. Olvir's gaze grew stern, and he drew Liutrad away, with quick decision.

"Go, bring your horse into the courtyard--to the steps of the palace doorway," he said. "Should I come out in haste, do not wonder if I take the beast from you with a show of force. The Franks should know of nothing against you till you 've fled with their king's daughter."

"Olvir! You mean our lord king no harm?"

"G.o.d forbid--greatly as he has wronged me! Only, I 'd not linger in the werwolf's power should all go ill."

"Saint Michael grant you have no need of flight!"

"My thanks. Go quickly!"

Liutrad hurried away, and Olvir stepped forward to meet the doorward, his head bent beneath the cowl, and his lips muttering a Latin phrase.

"Hold," commanded the pompous official. "What is the priest's purpose at the door of our lord king?"

"To enter it, fool!" muttered Olvir, in Latin, and, as the Frank bowed to the blessing, he spoke in a tone of authority: "Lead me to his Majesty. I come from Fulda and--"

"Ah, the wise Abbot Baugulf. Follow me, priest, and pray for grace that you do not stammer and stand dumfounded when you enter the presence of majesty."

Olvir made no answer, and the doorward, judging that he had sufficiently impressed the humble priest, flung aside the curtains, and announced his entrance. "A messenger, your Majesty, from Abbot Baugulf."

"Let him stand and enjoy with us the verses of our Albinus," replied Karl, without turning his gaze from Alcuin, at the foot of the royal couch.

Olvir stopped short, and, from the depths of his cowl, swept the room with his glance. Evidently the king had thought the morning's ceremony sufficient work accomplished for the day, even for his all but tireless energy. In place of the usual crowd of counts and court-officials, pressing about the royal couch to report their actions and receive fresh orders from the king, there were present only Alcuin and Fastrada the queen, who was seated beside her lord on the edge of the ma.s.sive couch.

At a nod from Karl, Alcuin raised his gold-illumined scroll, and recited his Latin rhymes in a voice that went far toward easing the waywardness of the feet. The king was very hearty in his praise of the poet's efforts; but Fastrada murmured an ironical criticism: "A fair song, my lord,--for children and priests. I myself would rather hear the heart-stirring lays of our fathers."

"They are the fierce songs of heathen warriors, my dame, ill fitted for the lips of G.o.d's children," protested Alcuin.

Karl nodded to him, smiling. "Ah, my Albinus, you speak true; I, as head of G.o.d's church, must agree with you. It is well that our subjects should not sing the heathen lays. Yet they are the songs of our fathers, and I would not have them wholly lost to our children. But I keep waiting the good abbot's messenger. Stand forward, my son, and deliver over the scroll sent by your superior."

"I bear no scroll, Frank king. The message is on the tongue of the wolfshead," answered Olvir, in a clear voice, and he flung aside the priest's robe, to stand before the king in full war-gear.

"How? Olvir! King of Heaven!" cried Karl, and he sprang up to confront the Northman as he had confronted Gerold in the East Tower,--with bared sword. But Olvir gazed fearlessly into his angry eyes.

"Twice before has my father's sword been brandished to strike down his son," he said. "The edge of Ironbiter in a king's hand is fair fate for a warrior."

"Wretched man! why do you force me to anger? I have yielded to mercy,--I gave you full time to quit my realm. Yet now you stand before me, threatening."

"My sword hangs in its sheath. Had I come to avenge myself for the outlaw's doom, I could have leaped upon the son of Pepin while the priest murmured his verses. Is the king answered?"

Karl lowered his Norse sword, and gazed down moodily at the outlaw.

"By my faith, Dane," he muttered, "I had thought you bold beyond most; but this pa.s.ses belief."

"A man will do much for his honor and his love, King of the Franks. I am no longer your liegeman; you have broken the fetter which bound us.

I have been named wolfshead. Without my knowledge, I have been doomed to outlawry. Now I come to ask a hearing."

"You come too late, murderous Northman!" exclaimed Fastrada. "Our lord king has rendered judgment. Your doom is sealed. Go quickly, outlaw, before the scullions beat you from the palace with their spits."

Olvir looked into the beautiful evil face, smiling with malignant triumph, and the white fury seized upon him.

"I do not speak to the witch's offcast daughter. My appeal is to the King of the Franks," he lisped.

The king gasped in sheer amazement; then the blood leaped into his face, and his eyes flamed. He turned to thrust out his fist at the gaping doorward, and commanded harshly: "Away, fool! Bid the High Marshal and his riders lead this Dane wolf Rhineward, in bonds. The b.l.o.o.d.y outlaw shall not fare at will about my realm. Go!"

"My lord,--dear sire!" cried Alcuin, as the doorward sprang away; "hear the youth--"

"Silence, priest! None shall pule over this false Dane! Doubly has he earned the tree,--the mire-death. Yet I have spared his life; I have shown mercy."

"It is not for mercy, but for justice that I ask, King of the Franks,"

replied Olvir; and then, as the thought of his little princess came upon him, his voice broke into despairing appeal: "Hear me, lord king! Be just to the liegeman whom you once honored. Do not send me from your realm wolfshead, that those who hate me may jeer my name, and my friends listen to the scoffing with sealed lips. I will go; I will go gladly, lord king; only, take from me the shame of your dooming, and bless the parting liegeman with a king's gift,--the hand of his betrothed."

"By the King--"

"Hear me, dear lord, I beg you! by the sword in your hand, by this ring on my wrist, gift of Hildegarde--of Hildegarde who so loved my little princess!--I swear to you, dear lord, that I had no part--"

"Do not heed him, King of the Franks!" hissed Fastrada. "Look upon this cruel blade, my lord,--the knife which pierced the feeble greybeard!

What justice for the murderer? What mercy for the traitor? I demand vengeance upon my father's betrayer. He shall sink in the slime, or the plunging horses rend him asunder! Vengeance!"

"Go, Olvir!" muttered the king, thickly; "go--before I forget that I once loved you."

A gasping sob burst from the Northman. Karl could not have struck a blow more cruel. The stricken man turned slowly about and pa.s.sed from the chamber, groping his way as though blinded. The king and the scholar stared after him, hushed and motionless. Not until he was gone did they heed that the queen had glided out by the bower doorway. Then Alcuin began to pray aloud, and the king bent while the priest implored the blessing of Heaven upon the soul of the outlaw.

But Olvir, pa.s.sing slowly from the doorway along the shadowy corridor, felt a hand thrust out from another curtained entrance to draw him within. Still half dazed, he yielded to the grasp. The hangings fell to behind him, and he found himself face to face with the queen. For a little they stood staring at each other, the queen's face still and cold as a mask. Olvir looked quietly into her dilating eyes, and then, without a word, he turned to go. But Fastrada put out the hand on which glowed her magic opal, and caught his shoulder in an eager grasp.

"Stay, Olvir!" she said. "Give heed, and learn that all is not lost to you."

"The king has spoken, witch's daughter."

"But not the queen. Listen, my gerfalcon. The famished bird wings back to the wrist of its keeper; the well-lashed steed comes to the call of the master. Your spirit is broken, proud Dane, and now my vengeance is slaked. There is gall in the cup. I wish to drink of a sweeter draught, which you shall give at my asking; for in my hand I hold for you good fortune,--honors and riches and power; the king's friends.h.i.+p again for his Dane hawk."

"And the price, werwolf?"

"Take heed of your tongue, Olvir! I have yet a score to settle with your puling nun-bride."

"She has another knife--"

"Take joy of the thought! Listen to me: I offer for her so much as the veil, and that at Ch.e.l.les, where she will be with Gisela. Weigh it well, Olvir; on the one hand, peace for her; on the other, the knife--or Worad."

"The price?"

A deep blush suffused the queen's cheeks, and her eyes, blue and soft, gazed at the Northman from beneath their long lashes with an alluring glance.

"Surely the price is not too heavy," she murmured. "Men still hold me not uncomely--"