CHAPTER X.
COUNT AND VAGRE.
With Loysik and Ronan on the shoulders of their companions and littleOdille in the arms of the Master of the Hounds, the Vagres and therevolted slaves hastened to reach the forest. The rear of the fleeingtroop was brought up by four Vagres, panting for breath and bent down bya heavy bundle that they carried between them. It was a large coarsecloth wound around a gagged and firmly bound man, whose head wasadditionally wrapped in a jacket.
"Who is that man, my brave Master of the Hounds? Do you know?" askedRonan.
"It is Count Neroweg, whom your father dexterously kidnapped from thevery midst of the leudes with the aid of two of his comrades."
"Neroweg in our power! In the power of Ronan, Loysik and Karadeucq, thedescendants of Schanvoch! Heaven and earth!"
"Hello, old Karadeucq, come this way--Ronan will not believe that wekidnapped the Frankish wild-boar."
"Yes, my sons, that fellow whose head is concealed in a jacket, and whomour men are carrying, is Neroweg--it is my share of the booty."
"It is your share, Karadeucq--but we, the count's former slaves, demandto have his skin and bones."
"What a pity that we have not the bishop also--the feast would becomplete."
"The Lion of Poitiers killed the bishop."
"Father, are you sure that infamous bishop is dead?"
"Yes--I saw him fall under the sword of the Lion of Poitiers. The blowalmost clove him in two."
"But how did you manage to capture Neroweg?"
"I kept my eyes upon you and Loysik from a distance, as you were carriedtowards the bridge by our Vagres who shouted: 'Room there, room for thewounded leudes whom we have saved from the ruins.' Mixing in, togetherwith three other of our men, among the distracted crowd of leudes andloyal slaves, who were running about helter skelter, I suddenly saw thecount running all alone at a distance, and carrying in his arms withgreat difficulty two heavy skin bags, probably filled with gold andsilver; he was running towards a dry well. Neroweg was at that momentalone and a considerable distance away from the burning buildings. Thethought struck me to seize the man. Together with two of our men I creptbehind the bushes around the cistern into which the count threw one ofthe bags, fearing, no doubt, that their contents might be stolen fromhim in the general turmoil. The three of us fell upon him unawares, andthrew him down; I planted both my knees upon his chest and both my handsover his mouth to keep him from crying out for help; one of our men tookoff his jacket, gagged Neroweg and wrapped the jacket over the Frank'shead, while our other companion tied his feet, legs and arms firmly,took a large piece of rough cloth that lay near and wound it around theseigneur count. The bridge lay not far away; we could see it from wherewe stood--and that is the way in which I captured my booty. We are nowfar enough away from the burg; the count's voice could not be heardthere. Remove the jacket from his head and the gag from his mouth.Hurrah for the Vagrery!"
As soon as Neroweg was uncovered and ungagged Karadeucq said to him:
"Count, your hands will remain bound, but I shall now free your legs.Will you walk to the forest with us?"
"You mean to kill me there! Let us walk, accursed mountebank, you willsee how a Frank marches with a firm step to death--you Gallic dogs, raceof slaves!"
The outskirt of the forest was reached at the peep of dawn--a flittingmoment in the month of June. At the distance a ruddy glamour was seenstruggling against the approaching light of day--it was theconflagration that still raged over the ruins of the burg.
Ronan and the hermit-laborer were laid upon the grass, with littleOdille seated beside them. On her knees near the young girl, thebishopess tended her wounds. The Vagres and the revolted slaves stood ina circle around. Neroweg stood pinioned, but savage and resolute ofcountenance--those barbarians and thieves, however cowardly in theirvengeance, are, it must be admitted even by us, their enemies, endowedwith a certain savage bravery--he cast an intrepid look at the Vagres.Old Karadeucq, who had preserved his vigor, looked youthed by fullytwenty years. The joy of having saved his sons and of having Neroweg inhis power seemed to impart new life to him. His eyes sparkled, hischeeks were aflame, he contemplated the count with greedy looks.
"We shall be revenged," said Ronan, "you will be revenged, littleOdille."
"Ronan, I ask no vengeance for myself; in our prison I often said to thegood hermit-laborer: 'If ever I should be free again, I shall not returnevil for evil.'"
"Yes, sweet child--as sweet as pardon. But you need not fear, our fatherwill not kill that man unarmed," answered Loysik.
"Will he not kill him, brother? Aye, by the devil! Our father will killthe Frank as sure as he put us both to the torture, and that he beat andviolated this poor child! Blood and massacre, no mercy!"
"No, Ronan, our father will not kill a defenseless man."
"You are long about killing me!" put in the captured count. "What areyou waiting for! And you, accursed mountebank, the chief of thesebandits, why do you look at me in that way in silence?"
"Because, Neroweg, in contemplating you as I do, I am thinking of thepast. I am conjuring up family recollections in which one of yourancestors, the Terrible Eagle, is mixed."
"He was a great chief," answered the Frank proudly; "he was a greatKing, one of the bravest warriors of my lineage. His name is stillglorified in Germany--my shame remains hidden at the bottom of mygrave--if you dig a grave for me, cursed dogs!"
"It happened more than three hundred years ago; a great battle wasdelivered on the banks of the Rhine between the Gauls and the Franks.One of my ancestors fought with yours--the Terrible Eagle. It was adesperate struggle; it was not merely a fight between soldier andsoldier, it was a conflict between two races that were fated foes! Myancestor had a presentiment that the stock of Neroweg would be fatal toours, and he sought to kill him in order to extinguish his family. Fatewilled it otherwise. Alas, my ancestor's forebodings did not deceivehim. This is the second time that our two families meet across the ages.You had my two sons put to the torture, and to-day they were to beexecuted upon your orders. Now you are in my power; you are about todie, and your stock will be extinct."
A flash of joy lighted the Frank's eyes, and he answered with a firmvoice: "Kill me!"
"My Vagres, this man belongs to me--it is my part of the booty."
"He is yours, old Karadeucq--you may dispose of him at your pleasure.Say the word and we will strike him down dead."
"I wish him to be unbound; I wish him to have the full use of hislimbs--but make a strong circle around us two, so that he can not runaway."
"Here we are--a strong circle of swords' points, axes, pikes and sharpscythes--he will not be able to break through."
"A priest!" suddenly cried the count in accents of anguish. "I do notwish to die without the assistance of a priest! Will you assist me,hermit-laborer?"
"Father," cried Loysik, "do not kill this man in that manner!"
"I do not ask you for my life, Gallic dogs! Slaves! But I do not wish togo to hell! I ask the absolution of a priest!"
"Take this axe, Count Neroweg; we shall be equally armed; the combatbetween us is to be to the death."
"Father, in the name of your two sons, whom you have just saved, desistfrom this combat."
"My sons, this axe does not weigh heavy in my hands--I shall extinguishin this Frank the stock of the Nerowegs."
"I, a man of an illustrious family, do battle with a beggar, a Vagre, arevolted slave! No! I shall not bestow such an honor upon you, bastarddog--you may slay me."
"Seize him, and shave his head smooth like a slave. Shame upon thecoward!"
"I, shaved like a vile slave! I, undergo such an outrage! I prefer to dobattle with you, vile bandit; give me the axe!"
"Here it is, count. And you, my brave Vagres, widen the circle--and longlive Gaul!"
Neroweg precipitated himself upon the Vagre; the combat was engaged; itwas frightful, stubborn. Loysik, Ronan, little Odille and the bishopessfollowed trembling and with anxious e
yes the events of the struggle. Itdid not last long. Karadeucq spoke truly. The axe did not weigh heavy inhis vigorous hand; it swung in the air and fell with a crash upon theforehead of Neroweg, who rolled down upon the grass with his skullcleaved in twain.
"Die!" cried Karadeucq with a triumphant air. "The stock of the TerribleEagle will no longer pursue the stock of Joel!"
"You lie, Gallic dog! My stock is not extinct. I have a son of my secondwife at Soissons--and my present wife, Godegisele, is with child. Mystock will live!"
And with a feeble voice, the dying man added:
"Hermit laborer, give me paradise--my good Bishop Cautin, have pity uponme! Oh, I am going to hell! to hell! the demons!"
And Neroweg expired, his face contracted in diabolical terror.
Missing the count, his leudes must have concluded that he lay buriedunder the smoldering ruins; some feared that the revolted slavescaptured and took him with them. If they searched for him, they musthave found the count's body at the outskirts of the forest, with hisskull cleaved in twain by an axe blow, and stretched out at the foot ofa tree, with the outward bark ripped off and on the bare trunk of whichthe following words were engraved with the point of a dagger:
"_Karadeucq, the Vagre, a descendant of the Gaul Joel, the brenn of thetribe of Karnak, killed this Frankish count, a descendant of Neroweg,the Terrible Eagle. Long live Gaul._"
PART IV.
GHILDE.