CHAPTER II.
Hildebrand took the torch from the column, and went across the innerspace, past the cella of the temple, past the ruined high altar, pastthe bases of the statues of the gods--long since fallen--to theporticum or back of the edifice. Silently his companions followed theold man, who led them down the steps into the open field.
After a short walk they stopped under an ancient holm, whose mightyboughs held off storm and rain like a roof.
A strange sight presented itself under this oak, which, however, atonce reminded the old man's Gothic companions of a custom of ancientheathen times in their distant Northern home.
Under the oak a strip of thick turf, only a foot broad, but severalyards long, had been cut loose from the ground; the two ends of thestrip still lay in the shallow ditch thus formed, but in the middle itwas raised over and supported by three long spears of unequal length,which were fixed into the ground, the tallest spear being in themiddle, so that the whole arrangement formed a triangle, under whichseveral men could stand commodiously between the shafts of the spears.
In the ditch stood a brazen cauldron filled with water, near it lay apointed and sharp butcher's knife, of extremely ancient form; the haftwas made of the horn of the ure-ox, the blade of flint.
The old man came forward, stuck the torch into the earth close to thecauldron, and then stepped, right foot foremost, into the ditch; heturned to the east and bent his head, then he beckoned to his friendsto join him, putting his finger to his lip in sign of silence. Withouta sound the four men stepped into the ditch beside him, Witichis andTeja to his right, the two brothers to his left, and all five joinedhands in a solemn chain.
Then the old man loosened his hands from those of Witichis andHildebad, who stood next to him, and knelt down. First he took up ahandful of the black mould and threw it over his left shoulder; then hedipped his other hand into the cauldron and sprinkled the water to theright behind him. After this he blew into the windy night-air thatrustled in his long beard; and, lastly, he swung the torch from rightto left over his head. Then he again stuck it into the earth and spokein murmuring tones:
"Hear me, ancient earth, welling water, ethereal air, flickering flame!Listen to me well and preserve my words. Here stand five men of therace of Graut, Teja and Totila, Hildebad and Hildebrand, and Witichis,Waltari's son.
"We stand here in a quiet hour To bind a bond between blood-brethren, For ever and ever and every day. In closest communion as kindred companions. In friendship and feud, in revenge and right. One hope, one hate, one love, one lament, As we drop to one drop Our blood as blood-brethren."
At these words he bared his left arm, the others did the same; closetogether they stretched their five arms over the cauldron, the old manlifted the sharp flint-knife, and with one stroke scratched the skin ofhis own and the others' forearms, so that the blood of all flowed inred drops into the brazen cauldron. Then they retook their formerpositions, and the old man continued murmuring:
"And we swear the solemn oath, To sacrifice all that is ours, House, horse, and armour, Court, kindred, and cattle, Wife, weapons, and wares, Son, and servants, and body, and life, To the glance and glory of the race of Gaut, To the good Goths. And who of us would withdraw From honouring the oath with all sacrifices--"
here he, and at a sign, the others also, stepped out of the ditch fromunder the strip of turf--
"His red blood shall run unrevenged Like this water under the wood-sod--"
he lifted the cauldron, poured its bloody contents into the ditch, andthen took it out, together with the other implements--
"Upon his head shall the halls of Heaven Crash cumbrous down and crush him, Solid as this sod."
At one stroke he struck down the three supporting lance-shafts, anddully fell the heavy turf-roof back into the ditch. The five men nowplaced themselves again on the spot thus covered by the turf, withtheir hands entwined, and the old man said in more rapid tones:
"Whosoever does not keep this oath; whosoever does not protect hisblood-brother like his own brother during his life, and revenge hisdeath; whosoever refuses to sacrifice everything that he possesses tothe people of the Goths, when called upon to do so by a brother in caseof necessity, shall be for ever subject to the eternal and infernalpowers which reign under the green grass of the earth; good men shalltread with their feet over the perjurer's head, and his name shall bewithout honour wherever Christian folk ring bells and heathen folkoffer sacrifices, wherever mothers caress their children and the windblows over the wide world. Say, companions, shall it be thus with thevile perjurer?"
"Thus shall it be with him," repeated the four men.
After a grave pause, Hildebrand loosened the chain of their hands, andsaid:
"That you may know why I bade you come hither, and how sacred thisplace is to me, come and see."
With this he lifted the torch and went before them behind the mightytrunk of the oak, in front of which they had taken the oath. Silentlyhis friends followed, and saw with astonishment, that, exactly in aline with the turfy ditch in which they had stood, there yawned a wideand open grave, from which the slab of stone had been rolled away. Atthe bottom, shining ghastly in the light of the torch, lay three longwhite skeletons; a few rusty pieces of armour, lance-points, andshield-bosses lay beside them.
The men looked with surprise; now into the grave, now at Hildebrand. Hesilently held the torch over the chasm for some minutes. At last hesaid quietly:
"My three sons. They have lain here for more than thirty years. Theyfell on this mountain in the last battle for the city of Ravenna. Theyfell in the same hour; to-day is the day. They rushed with joyousshouts against the enemies' spears--for their people."
He ceased. The men looked down with emotion. At last the old man drewhimself up and glanced at the sky.
"It is enough," said he, "the stars are paling. Midnight is long sincepast. You three return into the city. Thou, Teja, wilt surely remainwith me; to thee, more than to any other, is given the gift of sorrow,as of song; and keep with me the guard of honour beside the dead."
Teja nodded, and sat down without a word at the foot of the grave, justwhere he was standing. The old man gave Totila the torch, and leanedopposite Teja against the stone slab. The other three signed to himwith a parting gesture. Gravely, and buried in deep thought, theydescended to the city.