Bissula. English
CHAPTER XIX.
Outside of the Duke's tent also a huge fire was blazing, fed by slaveswho were roasting on the ends of poles the haunches and back of afreshly killed stag. Adalo passed by, motioning to Zercho to wait,parted the sailcloth stretched over the wooden frame of the tent, andentered.
The roof was formed of interwoven pine branches; against the poles ofthe light timberwork hung and rested everywhere weapons of all kinds.Skins covered the turf floor which, opposite to the entrance, wasraised until it formed a high seat; a curtain of heavy linen hungbehind it, dividing from the front of the tent a small space used for asleeping room. In the centre stood an iron tripod, running to a pointat the top, into which was screwed a burning pine-torch that diffused adim, flickering red light.
On the fur-covered high seat, with his back resting against the maincolumn of the tent, sat Duke Hariowald. He greeted his young kinsmanonly by a glance and seemed to heed nothing except the eager words ofanother guest, a man about forty years old, who, clad in a boarskin andwearing on his head a "boar helm" with the animal's tusks, sat at hisright.
The old Duke, a giant in height, towering nearly a head above Adalo'stall figure, was a man of singular appearance. The immense framework ofhis body appeared to belong to a much older race of men. His deep-setgray eye--the left one had been destroyed by a stone from a Balearicansling long before, and the empty socket had a sinister expression--wasunder a bushy, prominent arched brow; its fire was by no means dimmed,but curbed by the long habit of self-control. This ever perceptiblerule of passions blazing fiercely in his breast gave the mighty man,who in spite of his sixty-five winters could not be called old, an airof mysterious majesty. His people looked up to him with reverence, withtimid expectation, nay, with a slight fear of what he was planning inrigid secrecy. His eagle eye was inscrutable when he half closed it;when open, the flash that blazed from it was fairly blinding. Theexpression of the mouth was concealed by the magnificent silvery-whitebeard, sweeping over the breast-plate to the bronze belt, which framedthe cheeks and mingled with the thick locks of hair of the same hue.
Like the eye, the strong, deep, resonant voice revealed, no matter howquietly the mighty man spoke, the sense of power held in check. Herarely moved his muscular limbs, and all his gestures had a calmnesswhich was the result of long training. So he sat without a helmet, withhis ample blue cloak floating from his shoulders, his bearing one ofdignified composure. The majestic beauty of his finely formed head wasplainly visible as he rested it against the tent-pole, listeningintently. An immense spear rested in the curve of his right arm, itsbrass top rising above his shoulder, as the end touched the floor; heoften stroked with a gentle, almost loving touch of the hand the runesof victory inscribed on the back of the ash handle.
"I am usually glad to greet you, son of Adalger," said the Duke's otherguest, with a frowning brow, "but now I am most unwilling. I pleadedfor peace--" The Duke remained silent. "Now you come and you--I knowit--dream of nothing day and night save war with Rome."
Adalo measured him with a wrathful glance. "The ancient foe of ourpeople is in the country, and a king of the Alemanni counsels peace?Ebarbold, son of Ebur, fear was alien to your kinsmen--"
The other laid his hand on the curved knife in his belt. Adalo did notsee it: he was under the spell of Hariowald's eye. A warning glancefrom the old man, and the youth hastily added, "and is unknown to you,hero of the wild-boar's courage."
The guest loosened his grip of the dagger and leaned back proudly.
"But Roman gold does not ensnare you," Adalo continued; "so some magicblinds you."
"Or _you_ and all our crazy youths. The red drink of Zio, the war-god,has intoxicated you. Or," he added in a lower, almost timid tone, "He,Odin the Val-father, wishes again to people his Valhalla withslaughtered heroes."
A change of expression flashed over the Duke's face. He gently raisedhis spear and, unheard by the others, murmured, "Mighty Odin, do notavenge the words." But Ebarbold went on:
"No matter about the boys! Their only art is war, and they have littlesense; but that you, who have seen sixty winters and almost as manyvictories of the men with the high helmets--that you too should desirewar! My friends, I went to Rome; I climbed to the citadel on thetowering rock. It glitters with gold and marble. I served in the greatValentinian's army. I have seen for years the countless thousands ofRoman warriors with their finest weapons, against which ours are likechildren's toys."
The Duke, unnoticed, pressed his spear closer to his breast.
"And the military engines, the huge galleys with three banks of oarsone above another, the treasures of coined and uncoined gold andsilver! The whole extent of the land, all Mittelgard, as far as menlive--white, brown, and black--I've seen them painted on a long, longstrip of hide. The rising and the setting of the sun serve Rome. In hisgolden house on one of the seven hills of the Tiber the Imperator hasplaced a gold ball: all the provinces are copied on it. It is the workof a magician. If a foe crosses the boundary in the farthest north orsouth, the gold ball echoes and trembles in that spot; the Imperatorhears it, looks, and sends the legions. We will not defy him. The Caesaris a god on earth."
"Do not hear it. Mighty One!" the old Duke murmured, stroking the runeson his spear soothingly.
Adalo was about to make a vehement reply, but he involuntarily lookedat the silent man, and controlled himself.
"We have learned that long enough, I think," Ebarbold continued; "fromgeneration to generation, when each province still foughtindependently, long before this name and league of the Alemanni wereheard and invented!"
"You don't like this league?" the Duke now asked suddenly.
The King started. The voice, hitherto mute, sounded so loud andpowerful. Glancing up timidly, he shrugged his shoulders: "Whether Ilike it or not, I can no longer dissolve it."
"No, you cannot," said Hariowald very calmly, stroking his long beard;but his gray eye darted a glance which boded evil.
"You don't like the _name_ of Alemanni either?" asked Adaloindignantly.
"No, Adeling. 'All men together!' Ha, our forefathers prided themselveson standing alone, province by province; nay, in the old days family byfamily, not leaning on others, and also not bound by them, not subjectto the will of the majority."
"Yes, that's it!" said the old Duke with a fierce smile. "You were inthe citadel of Rome--so was I. But I perceived with my one eye what youhave not seen. You noticed the glittering lustre of their magnificence;it dazzled you: I saw through the glitter to the decay, the declinebeneath. And one thing more," he added mysteriously, lowering hisvoice--"for several generations they have had no more luck with theirown gods--with the new ones, I mean. Ay, the old one whom they formerlyhad--" he now spoke with a certain timidity, even reverence--"I meanthe one with the thunderbolts and the eagle--he was a god of battles,almost like our own. Often his eagle on their shields seemed to me toflap its wings, and the lightning to glow redly. Often and often have Iseen them conquer under that handsome bearded god and his sons. Marsand Hercules. But now they have chosen for their god a youth, gentleand nobly wise, but no warrior. His own priests say he never held asword in his hand. He did not descend from a line of gods; he was theson of a laborer. And this man--a carpenter--belonged to a race long inbondage to Rome, a people many of whom have wandered to us with packson their bent backs, mere traders in spices. Not many of them are seenin the ranks of the legions. Since the Romans chose for their god thatgentle teacher who would not even defend his own life, victory hasdeserted their standards. But what (besides their Jupiter in theclouds) formerly secured to them for centuries conquest on earth I alsolearned; the god whom I most honor showed it to me: one will controlledthem all. They were already united men--all for one, and one for all,through many hundred winters; while we, according to the wish of yourheart, fought province by province, each for himself, and--succumbed.This is your freedom--the freedom of discord and consequentdestruction!"
The glowing wra
th of enthusiastic conviction transfigured the oldDuke's noble face.