The Brethren
Chapter Eighteen: Wulf Pays for the Drugged Wine
Many a day had gone by since the brethren bade farewell toRosamund at Damascus. Now, one burning July night, they sat upontheir horses, the moonlight gleaming on their mail. Still asstatues they sat, looking out from a rocky mountain top acrossthat grey and arid plain which stretches from near Nazareth tothe lip of the hills at whose foot lies Tiberias on the Sea ofGalilee. Beneath them, camped around the fountain of Seffurieh,were spread the hosts of the Franks to which they did sentinel;thirteen hundred knights, twenty thousand foot, and hordes ofTurcopoles--that is, natives of the country, armed after thefashion of the Saracens. Two miles away to the southeastglimmered the white houses of Nazareth, set in the lap of themountains. Nazareth, the holy city, where for thirty years livedand toiled the Saviour of the world. Doubtless, thought Godwin,His feet had often trod that mountain whereon they stood, and inthe watered vales below His hands had sped the plow or reaped thecorn. Long, long had His voice been silent, yet to Godwin's earsit still seemed to speak in the murmur of the vast camp, and toecho from the slopes of the Galilean hills, and the words it saidwere: "I bring not peace, but a sword."
To-morrow they were to advance, so rumour said, across yonderdesert plain and give battle to Saladin, who lay with all hispower by Hattin, above Tiberias.
Godwin and his brother thought that it was a madness; for theyhad seen the might of the Saracens and ridden across that thirstyplain beneath the summer sun. But who were they, two wandering,unattended knights, that they should dare to lift up their voicesagainst those of the lords of the land, skilled from their birthin desert warfare? Yet Godwin's heart was troubled and fear tookhold of him, not for himself, but for all the countless army thatlay asleep yonder, and for the cause of Christendom, which stakedits last throw upon this battle.
"I go to watch yonder; bide you here," he said to Wulf, and,turning the head of Flame, rode some sixty yards over a shoulderof the rock to the further edge of the mountain which lookedtowards the north. Here he could see neither the camp, nor Wulf,nor any living thing, but indeed was utterly alone. Dismounting,and bidding the horse stand, which it would do like a dog, hewalked forward a few steps to where there was a rock, and,kneeling down, began to pray with all the strength of his pure,warrior heart.
"O Lord," he prayed, "Who once wast man and a dweller in thesemountains, and knowest what is in man, hear me. I am afraid forall the thousands who sleep round Nazareth; not for myself, whocare nothing for my life, but for all those, Thy servants and mybrethren. Yes, and for the Cross upon which Thou didst hang, andfor the faith itself throughout the East. Oh! give me light! Oh!let me hear and see, that I may warn them, unless my fears arevain!"
So he murmured to Heaven above and beat his hands against hisbrow, praying, ever praying, as he had never prayed before, thatwisdom and vision might be given to his soul.
It seemed to Godwin that a sleep fell on him--at least, his mindgrew clouded and confused. Then it cleared again, slowly, asstirred water clears, till it was bright and still; yet anothermind to that which was his servant day by day which never couldsee or hear those things he saw and heard in that strange hour.Lo! he heard the spirits pass, whispering as they went;whispering, and, as it seemed to him, weeping also for some greatwoe which was to be; weeping yonder over Nazareth. Then likecurtains the veils were lifted from his eyes, and as they swungaside he saw further, and yet further.
He saw the king of the Franks in his tent beneath, and about himthe council of his captains, among them the fierce-eyed master ofthe Templars, and a man whom he had seen in Jerusalem where theyhad been dwelling, and knew for Count Raymond of Tripoli, thelord of Tiberias. They were reasoning together, till, presently,in a rage, the Master of the Templars drew his sword and dashedit down upon the table.
Another veil was lifted, and lo! he saw the camp of Saladin, themighty, endless camp, with its ten thousand tents, amongst whichthe Saracens cried to Allah through all the watches of the night.He saw the royal pavilion, and in it the Sultan walked to and froalone--none of his emirs, not even his son, were with him. He waslost in thought, and Godwin read his thought.
It was: "Behind me the Jordan and the Sea of Galilee, into which,if my flanks were turned, I should be driven, I and all my host.In front the territories of the Franks, where I have no friend;and by Nazareth their great army. Allah alone can help me. Ifthey sit still and force me to advance across the desert andattack them before my army melts away, then I am lost. If theyadvance upon me round the Mountain Tabor and by the watered land,I may be lost. But if--oh! if Allah should make them mad, andthey should strike straight across the desert--then, then theyare lost, and the reign of the Cross in Syria is forever at anend. I will wait here. I will wait here. . ."
Look! near to the pavilion of Saladin stood another tent, closelyguarded, and in it on a cushioned bed lay two women. One wasRosamund, but she slept sound; and the other was Masouda, and shewas waking, for her eyes met his in the darkness.
The last veil was withdrawn, and now Godwin saw a sight at whichhis soul shivered. A fire-blackened plain, and above it afrowning mountain, and that mountain thick, thick with dead,thousands and thousands and thousands of dead, among which thehyenas wandered and the night-birds screamed. He could see theirfaces, many of them he knew again as those of living men whom hehad met in Jerusalem and elsewhere, or had noted with the army.He could hear also the moanings of the few who were yet alive.
About that field--yes, and in the camp of Saladin, where lay moredead--his body seemed to wander searching for something, he knewnot what, till it came to him that it was the corpse of Wulf forwhich he sought and found it not--nay, nor his own either. Thenonce more he heard the spirits pass--a very great company, for tothem were gathered all those dead--heard them pass away, wailing,ever more faintly wailing for the lost cause of Christ, wailingover Nazareth.
Godwin awoke from his dream trembling, mounted his horse, androde back to Wulf. Beneath, as before, lay the sleeping camp,yonder stretched the brown desert, and there sat Wulf watchingboth.
"Tell me," asked Godwin, "how long is it since I left you?"
"Some few minutes--ten perhaps," answered his brother.
"A short while to have seen so much," replied Godwin. Then Wulflooked at him curiously and asked:
"What have you seen?"
"If I told you, Wulf, you would not believe."
"Tell me, and I will say."
So Godwin told him all, and at the end asked him, "What thinkyou?"
Wulf considered awhile, and answered:
"Well, brother, you have touched no wine to-day, so you are notdrunk, and you have done nothing foolish, so you are not mad.Therefore it would seem that the saints have been talking to you,or, at least, so I should think of any other man whom I knew tobe as good as you are. Yet it is folk like you that see visions,and those visions are not always true, for sometimes, I believe,the devil is their showman. Our watch is ended, for I hear thehorses of the knights who come to relieve us. Listen; this is mycounsel. In the camp yonder is our friend with whom we travelledfrom Jerusalem, Egbert, the bishop of Nazareth, who marches withthe host. Let us go to him and lay this matter before him, for heis a holy man and learned; no false, self-seeking priest."
Godwin nodded in assent, and presently, when the other knightswere come and they had made their report to them, they rode offtogether to the tent of Egbert, and, leaving their horses incharge of a servant, entered.
Egbert was an Englishman who had spent more than thirty years ofhis life in the East, whereof the suns had tanned his wrinkledface to the hue of bronze, that seemed the darker in contrastwith his blue eyes and snow-white hair and beard. Entering thetent, they found him at his prayers before a little image of theVirgin, and stood with bowed heads until he had finished.Presently he rose, and greeting them with a blessing, asked themwhat they needed.
"Your counsel, holy father," answered Wulf. "Godwin, set out yourtale."
So, having seen that the te
nt flap was closed and that nonelingered near, Godwin told him his dream.
The old man listened patiently, nor did he seem surprised at thisstrange story, since in those days men saw--or thought theysaw--many such visions, which were accepted by the Church astrue.
When he had finished Godwin asked of him as he had asked of Wulf:"What think you, holy father? Is this a dream, or is it amessage? And if so, from whom comes the message?"
"Godwin D'Arcy," he answered, "in my youth I knew your father. Itwas I who shrove him when he lay dying of his wounds, and anobler soul never passed from earth to heaven. After you had leftDamascus, when you were the guest of Saladin, we dwelt togetherin the same lodging in Jerusalem, and together we travelled here,during all which time I learned to know you also as the worthyson of a worthy sire--no dissolute knight, but a true servant ofthe Church. It well may be that to such a one as you foresighthas been given, that through you those who rule us may be warned,and all Christendom saved from great sorrow and disgrace. Come;let us go to the king, and tell this story, for he still sits incouncil yonder."
So they went out together and rode to the royal tent. Here thebishop was admitted, leaving them without.
Presently he returned and beckoned to them, and as they passed,the guards whispered to them:
"A strange council, sirs, and a fateful!"
Already it was near midnight, but still the great pavilion wascrowded with barons and chief captains who sat in groups, or satround a narrow table made of boards placed upon trestles. At thehead of that table sat the king, Guy of Lusignan, a weak-facedman, clad in splendid armour. On his right was the white-hairedCount Raymond of Tripoli, and on his left the black-bearded,frowning Master of the Templars, clad in his white mantle on theleft breast of which the red cross was blazoned.
Words had been running high, their faces showed it, but just thena silence reigned as though the disputants were weary, and theking leaned back in his chair, passing his hand to and fro acrosshis forehead. He looked up, and seeing the bishop, askedpeevishly:
"What is it now? Oh! I remember, some tale from those tall twinknights. Well, bring them forward and speak it out, for we haveno time to lose."
So the three of them came forward and at Godwin's prayer thebishop Egbert told of the vision that had come to him not morethan an hour ago while he kept watch upon the mountain top. Atfirst one or two of the barons seemed disposed to laugh, but whenthey looked at Godwin's high and spiritual face, their laughterdied away, for it did not seem wonderful to them that such a manshould see visions. Indeed, as the tale of the rocky hill and thedead who were stretched upon it went on, they grew white withfear, and whitest of them all was the king, Guy of Lusignan.
"Is all this true, Sir Godwin?" he asked, when the bishop hadfinished.
"It is true, my lord king," answered Godwin.
"His word is not enough," broke in the Master of the Templars."Let him swear to it on the Holy Rood, knowing that if he lies itwill blast his soul to all eternity." And the council muttered,"Ay, let him swear."
Now there was an annexe to the tent, rudely furnished as achapel, and at the end of this annexe a tall, veiled object.Rufinus, the bishop of Acre, who was clad in the armour of aknight, went to the object, and drawing the veil, revealed abroken, blackened cross, set around with jewels, that stoodabout the height of a man above the ground, for all thelower part was gone.
At the sight of it Godwin and every man present there fell uponhis knees, for since St. Helena found it, over seven centuriesbefore, this had been accounted the most precious relic in allChristendom; the very wood upon which the Saviour suffered, as,indeed, it may have been.
Millions had worshipped it, tens of thousands had died for it,and now, in the hour of this great struggle between Christ andthe false prophet it was brought from its shrine that the hostwhich escorted it might prove invincible in battle. Soldiers whofought around the very Cross could not be defeated, they said,for, if need were, legions of angels would come to aid them.
Godwin and Wulf stared at the relic with wonder, fear, andadoration. There were the nail marks, there was the place wherethe scroll of Pilate had been affixed above the holy head--almostcould they seem to see that Form divine and dying.
"Now," broke in the voice of the Master of the Templars, "let SirGodwin D'Arcy swear to the truth of his tale upon this Rood."
Rising from his knees Godwin advanced to the Cross, and layinghis hand upon the wood, said: "Upon the very Rood I swear thatnot much more than an hour ago I saw the vision which has beentold to the king's highness and to all; that I believe thisvision was sent to me in answer to my prayer to preserve our hostand the holy city from the power of the Saracen, and that it is atrue foreshadowing of what will come about should we advance uponthe Sultan. I can say no more. I swear, knowing that if I lieeternal damnation is my doom."
The bishop drew back the covering over the Cross, and in silencethe council took their seats again about the table. Now the kingwas very pale, and fearful; indeed a gloom lay upon all of them.
"It would seem," he said, "that here a messenger has been sent tous from heaven. Dare we disobey his message?"
The Grand Templar lifted his rugged, frowning face. "A messengerfrom heaven, said you, king? To me he seems more like a messengerfrom Saladin. Tell us, Sir Godwin, were not you and your brotheronce the Sultan's guests at Damascus?"
"That is so, my lord Templar. We left before the war wasdeclared."
"And," went on the Master, "were you not officers of the Sultan'sbodyguard?"
Now all looked intently at Godwin, who hesitated a little,foreseeing how his answer would be read, whereon Wulf spoke inhis loud voice:
"Ay, we acted as such for awhile, and--doubtless you have heardthe story--saved Saladin's life when he was attacked by theAssassins."
"Oh!" said the Templar with bitter sarcasm, "you saved Saladin'slife, did you? I can well believe it. You, being Christians, whoabove everything should desire the death of Saladin, saved hislife! Now, Sir Knights, answer me one more question--"
"Sir Templar, with my tongue or with my sword?" broke in Wulf,but the king held up his hand and bade him be silent.
"A truce to your tavern ruffling, young sir, and answer," went onthe Templar. "Or, rather, do you answer, Sir Godwin. Is yourcousin, Rosamund, the daughter of Sir Andrew D'Arcy, a niece ofSaladin, and has she been created by him princess of Baalbec, andis she at this moment in his city of Damascus?"
"She is his niece," answered Godwin quietly; "she is the princessof Baalbec, but at this moment she is not in Damascus."
"How do you know that, Sir Godwin?"
"I know it because in the vision of which you have been told Isaw her sleeping in a tent in the camp of Saladin."
Now the council began to laugh, but Godwin, with a set, whiteface, went on:
"Ay, my lord Templar, and near that very blazoned tent I sawscores of the Templars and of the Hospitallers lying dead.Remember it when the dreadful hour comes and you see them also."
Now the laughter died away, and a murmur of fear ran round theboard, mixed with such words as "Wizardry." "He has learnt itfrom the Paynims." "A black sorcerer, without doubt."
Only the Templar, who feared neither man nor spirit, laughed, andgave him the lie with his eyes.
"You do not believe me," said Godwin, "nor will you believe mewhen I say that while I was on guard on yonder hill-top I saw youwrangling with the Count of Tripoli--ay, and draw your sword anddash it down in front of him upon this very table."
Now again the council stared and muttered, for they too had seenthis thing; but the Master answered:
"He may have learnt it otherwise than from an angel. Folk havebeen in and out of this tent. My lord king, have we more time towaste upon these visions of a knight of whom all we know forcertain is, that like his brother, he has been in the service ofSaladin, which they left, he says, in order to fight against himin this war. It may be so; it is not for us to judge; though werethe times different I would inf
orm against Sir Godwin D'Arcy as asorcerer, and one who has been in traitorous communication withour common foe."
"And I would thrust the lie down your throat with my sword'spoint!" shouted Wulf.
But Godwin only shrugged: his shoulders and said nothing, and theMaster went on, taking no heed.
"King, we await your word, and it must be spoken soon, for infour hours it will be dawn. Do we march against Saladin likebold, Christian men, or do we bide here like cowards?"
Then Count Raymond of Tripoli rose, and said:
"Before you answer, king, hear me, if it be for the last time,who am old in war and know the Saracens. My town of Tiberias issacked; my vassals have been put to the sword by thousands; mywife is imprisoned in her citadel, and soon must yield, if she benot rescued. Yet I say to you, and to the barons here assembled,better so than that you should advance across the desert toattack Saladin. Leave Tiberias to its fate and my wife with it,and save your army, which is the last hope of the Christians ofthe East. Christ has no more soldiers in these lands, Jerusalemhas no other shield. The army of the Sultan is larger than yours;his cavalry are more skilled. Turn his flank--or, better still,bide here and await his attack, and victory will be to thesoldiers of the Cross. Advance and the vision of that knight atwhom you scoff will come true, and the cause of Christendom belost in Syria. I have spoken, and for the last time."
"Like his friend the knight of Visions," sneered the GrandMaster, "the count Raymond is an old ally of Saladin. Will youtake such coward council? On--on! and smite these heathen dogs,or be forever shamed. On, in the name of the Cross! The Cross iswith us!"
"Ay," answered Raymond, "for the last time."
Then there arose a tumult through which every man shouted to hisfellow, some saying one thing and some another, while the kingsat at the head of the board, his face hidden in his hands.Presently he lifted it, and said:
"I command that we march at dawn. If the count Raymond and thesebrethren think the words unwise, let them leave us and remainhere under guard until the issue be known."
Now followed a great silence, for all there knew that the wordswere fateful, in the midst of which Count Raymond said:
"Nay, I go with you," while Godwin echoed, "And we go also toshow whether or not we are the spies of Saladin."
Of these speeches none of them seemed to take heed, for all werelost in their own thoughts. One by one they rose, bowed to theking, and left the tent to give their commands and rest awhile,before it was time to ride. Godwin and Wulf went also, and withthem the bishop of Nazareth, who wrung his hands and seemed illat ease. But Wulf comforted him, saying:
"Grieve no more, father; let us think of the joy of battle, notof the sorrow by which it may be followed."
"I find no joy in battles," answered the holy Egbert.
When they had slept awhile, Godwin and Wulf rose and fed theirhorses. After they had washed and groomed them, they tested anddid on their armour, then took them down to the spring to drinktheir fill, as their masters did. Also Wulf, who was cunning inwar, brought with him four large wineskins which he had providedagainst this hour, and filling them with pure water, fastened twoof them with thongs behind the saddle of Godwin and two behindhis own. Further, he filled the water-bottles at theirsaddle-bows, saying:
"At least we will be among the last to die of thirst."
Then they went back and watched the host break its camp, which itdid with no light heart, for many of them knew of the danger inwhich they stood; moreover, the tale of Godwin's vision had beenspread abroad. Not knowing where to go, they and Egbert, thebishop of Nazareth--who was unarmed and rode upon a mule, forstay behind he would not--joined themselves to the great body ofknights who followed the king. As they did so, the Templars, fivehundred strong, came up, a fierce and gallant band, and theMaster, who was at their head, saw the brethren and called out,pointing to the wineskins which were hung behind their saddles:
"What do these water-carriers here among brave knights who trustin God alone?"
Wulf would have answered, but Godwin bade him be silent, saying:
"Fall back; we will find less ill-omened company."
So they stood on one side and bowed themselves as the Cross wentby, guarded by the mailed bishop of Acre. Then came Reginald ofChatillon, Saladin's enemy, the cause of all this woe, who sawthem and cried:
"Sir Knights, whatever they may say, I know you for brave men,for I have heard the tale of your doings among the Assassins.There is room for you among my suite--follow me."
"As well him as another," said Godwin. "Let us go where we areled." So they followed him.
By the time that the army reached Kenna, where once the water wasmade wine, the July sun was already hot, and the spring was sosoon drunk dry that many men could get no water. On they pushedinto the desert lands below, which lay between them and Tiberias,and were bordered on the right and left by hills. Now clouds ofdust were seen moving across the plains, and in the heart of thembodies of Saracen horsemen, which continually attacked thevanguard under Count Raymond, and as continually retreated beforethey could be crushed, slaying many with their spears and arrows.Also these came round behind them, and charged the rearguard,where marched the Templars and the light-armed troops namedTurcopoles, and the band of Reginald de Chatillon, with whichrode the brethren.
From noon till near sundown the long harassed line, broken nowinto fragments, struggled forward across the rough, stony plain,the burning heat beating upon their armour till the air dancedabout it as it does before a fire. Towards evening men and horsesbecame exhausted, and the soldiers cried to their captains tolead them to water. But in that place there was no water. Therearguard fell behind, worn out with constant attacks that mustbe repelled in the burning heat, so that there was a great gapbetween it and the king who marched in the centre. Messagesreached them to push on, but they could not, and at length campwas pitched in the desert near a place called Marescalcia, andupon this camp Raymond and his vanguard were forced back. AsGodwin and Wulf rode up, they saw him come in bringing hiswounded with him, and heard him pray the king to push on and atall hazards to cut his way through to the lake, where they mightdrink--ay, and heard the king say that he could not, since thesoldiers would march no more that day. Then Raymond wrung hishands in despair and rode back to his men, crying aloud:
"Alas! alas! Oh! Lord God, alas! We are dead, and Thy Kingdom islost."
That night none slept, for all were athirst, and who can sleepwith a burning throat? Now also Godwin and Wulf were no longerlaughed at because of the water-skins they carried on theirhorses. Rather did great nobles come to them, and almost on theirknees crave for the boon of a single cup. Having watered theirhorses sparingly from a bowl, they gave what they could, till atlength only two skins remained, and one of these was spilt by athief, who crept up and slashed it with his knife that he mightdrink while the water ran to waste. After this the brethren drewtheir swords and watched, swearing that they would kill any manwho so much as touched the skin which was left. All that longnight through there arose a confused clamour from the camp, ofwhich the burden seemed to be, "Water! Give us water!" while fromwithout came the shouts of the Saracens calling upon Allah. Here,too, the hot ground was covered with scrub dried to tinder by thesummer drought, and to this the Saracens set fire so that thesmoke rolled down on the Christian host and choked them, and theplace became a hell.
Day dawned at last; and the army was formed up in order ofbattle, its two wings being thrown forward. Thus they struggledon, those of them that were not too weak to stir, who wereslaughtered as they lay. Nor as yet did the Saracens attack them,since they knew that the sun was stronger than all their spears.On they laboured towards the northern wells, till about mid-daythe battle began with a flight of arrows so thick that for awhileit hid the heavens.
After this came charge and counter-charge, attack and repulse,and always above the noise of war that dreadful cry for water.What chanced Godwin and Wulf never knew, for the smoke and dustblinded them so that
they could see but a little way. At lengththere was a last furious charge, and the knights with whom theywere clove the dense mass of Saracens like a serpent of steel,leaving a broad trail of dead behind them. When they pulled reinand wiped the sweat from their eyes it was to find themselveswith thousands of others upon the top of a steep hill, of whichthe sides were thick with dry grass and bush that already wasbeing fired.
"The Rood! The Rood! Rally round the Rood!" said a voice, andlooking behind them they saw the black and jewelled fragment ofthe true Cross set upon a rock, and by it the bishop of Acre.Then the smoke of the burning grass rose up and hid it from theirsight.
Now began one of the most hideous fights that is told of in thehistory of the world. Again and again the Saracens attacked inthousands, and again and again they were driven back by thedesperate valour of the Franks, who fought on, their jaws agapewith thirst. A blackbearded man stumbled up to the brethren, histongue protruding from his lips, and they knew him for the Masterof the Templars.
"For the love of Christ, give me to drink," he said, recognizingthem as the knights at whom he had mocked as water-carriers.
They gave him of the little they had left, and while they andtheir horses drank the rest themselves, saw him rush down thehill refreshed, shaking his red sword. Then came a pause, andthey heard the voice of the bishop of Nazareth, who had clung tothem all this while, saying, as though to himself:
"And here it was that the Saviour preached the Sermon on theMount. Yes, He preached the words of peace upon this very spot.Oh! it cannot be that He will desert us--it cannot be."
While the Saracens held off, the soldiers began to put up theking's pavilion, and with it other tents, around the rock onwhich stood the Cross.
"Do they mean to camp here?" asked Wulf bitterly.
"Peace," answered Godwin; "they hope to make a wall about theRood. But it is of no avail, for this is the place of my dream."
Wulf shrugged his shoulders. "At least, let us die well," hesaid.
Then the last attack began. Up the hillside rose dense volumes ofsmoke, and with the smoke came the Saracens. Thrice they weredriven back; thrice they came on. At the fourth onset few of theFranks could fight more, for thirst had conquered them on thiswaterless hill of Hattin. They lay down upon the dry grass withgaping jaws and protruding tongues, and let themselves be slain ortaken prisoners. A great company of Saracen horsemen brokethrough the ring and rushed at the scarlet tent. It rocked to andfro, then down it fell in a red heap, entangling the king in itsfolds.
At the foot of the Cross, Rufinus, the bishop of Acre, stillfought on bravely. Suddenly an arrow struck him in the throat,and throwing his arms wide, he fell to earth. Then the Saracenshurled themselves upon the Rood, tore it from its place, and withmockery and spittings bore it down the hill towards their camp,as ants may be seen carrying a little stick into their nest,while all who were left alive of the Christian army staredupwards, as though they awaited some miracle from Heaven. But noangels appeared in the brazen sky, and knowing that God haddeserted them, they groaned aloud in their shame andwretchedness.
"Come," said Godwin to Wulf in a strange, quiet voice. "We haveseen enough. It is time to die. Look! yonder below us are theMameluks, our old regiment, and amongst them Saladin, for I seehis banner. Having had water, we and our horses are still freshand strong. Now, let us make an end of which they will tell inEssex yonder. Charge for the flag of Saladin!"
Wulf nodded, and side by side they sped down the hill. Scimitarsflashed at them, arrows struck upon their mail and the shieldsblazoned with the Death's-head D'Arcy crest. Through it all theywent unscathed, and while the army of the Saracens stared, at thefoot of the Horn of Hattin turned their horses' heads straightfor the royal standard of Saladin. On they struggled, felling orriding down a foe at every stride. On, still on, although Flameand Smoke bled from a score of wounds.
They were among the Mameluks, where their line was thin; byHeaven! they were through them, and riding straight at thewell-known figure of the Sultan, mounted on his white horse withhis young son and his emir, the prince Hassan, at his side.
"Saladin for you, Hassan for me," shouted Wulf.
Then they met, and all the host of Islam cried out in dismay asthey saw the Commander of the Faithful and his horse borne to theearth before the last despairing charge of these mad Christianknights. Another instant, and the Sultan was on his feet again,and a score of scimitars were striking at Godwin. His horse Flamesank down dying, but he sprang from the saddle, swinging the longsword. Now Saladin recognized the crest upon his buckler, andcried out:
"Yield you, Sir Godwin! You have done well--yield you!"
But Godwin, who would not yield, answered:
"When I am dead--not before."
Thereupon Saladin spoke a word, and while certain of his Mameluksengaged Godwin in front, keeping out of reach of that red andterrible sword, others crept up behind, and springing on him,seized his arms and dragged him to the ground, where they boundhim fast.
Meanwhile Wulf had fared otherwise, for it was his horse Smoke,already stabbed to the vitals, that fell as he plunged on princeHassan. Yet he also arose but little hurt, and cried out:
"Thus, Hassan, old foe and friend, we meet at last in war. Come,I would pay the debt I owe you for that drugged wine, man to manand sword to sword."
"Indeed, it is due, Sir Wulf," answered the prince, laughing."Guards, touch not this brave knight who has dared so much toreach me. Sultan, I ask a boon. Between Sir Wulf and me there isan ancient quarrel that can only be washed away in blood. Let itbe decided here and now, and let this be your decree--that if Ifall in fair fight, none shall set upon my conqueror, and novengeance shall be taken for my blood."
"Good," said Saladin. "Then Sir Wulf shall be my prisoner and nomore, as his brother is already. I owe it to the men who saved mylife when we were friends. Give the Frank to drink that the fightmay be fair."
So they gave Wulf a cup of which he drank, and when he had doneit was handed to Godwin. For even the Mameluks knew and lovedthese brethren who had been their officers, and praised thefierce charge that they had dared to make alone.
Hassan sprang to the ground, saying:
"Your horse is dead, Sir Wulf, so we must fight afoot."
"Generous as ever," laughed Wulf. "Even the poisoned wine was agift!"
"If so, for the last time, I fear me," answered Hassan with asmile.
Then they faced each other, and oh! the scene was strange. Up onthe slopes of Hattin the fight still raged. There amidst thesmoke and fires of the burning grass little companies of soldiersstood back to back while the Saracens wheeled round them,thrusting and cutting at them till they fell. Here and thereknights charged singly or in groups, and so came to death orcapture. About the plain hundreds of foot soldiers were beingslaughtered, while their officers were taken prisoners. Towardsthe camp of Saladin a company advanced with sounds of triumph,carrying aloft a black stump which was the holy Rood, whileothers drove or led mobs of prisoners, among them the king andhis chosen knights.
The wilderness was red with blood, the air was rent with shoutsof victory and cries of agony or despair. And there, in the midstof it all, ringed round with grave, courteous Saracens, stood theemir, clad above his mail in his white robe and jewelled turban,facing the great Christian knight, with harness hacked andreddened, the light of battle shining in his fierce eyes, and asmile upon his stained features.
For those who watched the battle was forgotten--or, rather, itsinterest was centred on this point.
"It will be a good fight," said one of them to Godwin, whom theyhad suffered to rise, "for though your brother is the younger andthe heavier man, he is hurt and weary, whereas the emir is freshand unwounded. Ah! they are at it!"
Hassan had struck first and the blow went home. Falling upon thepoint of Wulf's steel helm, the heavy, razoredged scimitarglanced from it and shore away the links from the flap which hungupon his shoulder, causing the Frank to stagger. Again he struck,this time upon
the shield, and so heavily that Wulf came to hisknees.
"Your brother is sped," said the Saracen captain to Godwin, butGodwin only answered:
"Wait."
As he spoke Wulf twisted his body out of reach of a third blow,and while Hassan staggered forward with the weight of the missedstroke, placed his hand upon the ground, and springing to hisfeet, ran backwards six or eight paces.
"He flies!" cried the Saracens; but again Godwin said, "Wait."Nor was there long to wait.
For now, throwing aside his buckler and grasping the great swordin both his hands, with a shout of "A D'Arcy! A D'Arcy!" Wulfleapt at Hassan as a wounded lion leaps. The sword wheeled andfell, and lo! the shield of the Saracen was severed in two. Againit fell, and his turbaned helm was cloven. A third time, and theright arm and shoulder with the scimitar that grasped it seemedto spring from his body, and Hassan sank dying to the ground.
Wulf stood and looked at him, while a murmur of grief went upfrom those who watched, for they loved this emir. Hassan beckonedto the victor with his left hand, and throwing down his sword toshow that he feared no treachery, Wulf came to him and kneltbeside him.
"A good stroke," Hassan said faintly, "that could shear thedouble links of Damascus steel as though it were silk. Well, as Itold you long ago, I knew that the hour of our meeting in warwould be an ill hour for me, and my debt is paid. Farewell, braveknight. Would I could hope that we should meet in Paradise! Takethat star jewel, the badge of my House, from my turban and wearit in memory of me. Long, long and happy be your days."
Then, while Wulf held him in his arms, Saladin came up and spoketo him, till he fell back and was dead.
Thus died Hassan, and thus ended the battle of Hattin, whichbroke the power of the Christians in the East.