Chapter Four The Letter of Saladin
Twas past three in the afternoon, and snow clouds were fast
covering up the last grey gleam of the December day, as Godwin,
wishing that his road was longer, walked to Steeple church across
the meadow. At the door of it he met the two serving women coming
out with brooms in their hands, and bearing between them a great
basket filled with broken meats and foul rushes. Of them he asked
if the Lady Rosamund were still in the church, to which they
answered, curtseying:
"Yes, Sir Godwin; and she bade us desire of you that you would
come to lead her to the Hall when she had finished making her
prayers before the altar."
"I wonder," mused Godwin,"whether I shall ever lead her from the
altar to the Hall, or whether--I shall bide alone by the altar?"
Still he thought it a good omen that she had bidden him thus,
though some might have read it otherwise.
Godwin entered the church, walking softly on the rushes with
which its nave was strewn, and by the light of the lamp that
burnt there always, saw Rosamund kneeling before a little shrine,
her gracious head bowed upon her hands, praying earnestly. Of
what, he wondered--of what?
Still, she did not hear him; so, coming into the chancel, he
stood behind her and waited patiently. At length, with a deep
sigh, Rosamund rose from her knees and turned, and he noted by
the light of the lamp that there were tear-stains upon her face.
Perhaps she, too, had spoken with the Prior John, who was her
confessor also. Who knows? At the least, when her eyes fell upon
Godwinstanding like a statue before her, she started, and there
broke from her lips the words:
"Oh, how swift an answer!" Then, recovering her self, added, "To
my message, I mean, cousin."
"I met the women at the door," he said.
"It is kind of you to come," Rosamund went on; "but, in truth,
since that day on Death Creek I fear to walk a bow-shot's length
alone or in the company of women only. With you I feel safe."
"Or with Wulf?"
"Yes; or with Wulf," she repeated; "that is, when he is not
thinking of wars and adventures far away."
By now they had reached the porch of the church, to find that the
snow was falling fast.
"Let us bide here a minute," he said; "it is but a passing
cloud."
So they stayed there in the gloom, and for a while there was
silence between them. Then he spoke.
"Rosamund, my cousin and lady, I come to put a question to you,
but first--why you will understand afterwards--it is my duty to
ask that you will give me no answer to that question until a full
day has passed."
"Surely, Godwin, that is easy to promise. But what is this
wonderful question which may not be answered?"
"One short and simple. Will you give yourself to me in marriage,
Rosamund?"
She leaned back against the wall of the porch.
"My father--" she began.
"Rosamund, I have his leave."
"How can I answer since you yourself forbid me?"
"Till this time to-morrow only. Meanwhile, I pray you hear me,
Rosamund. I am your cousin, and we were brought up
together--indeed, except when I was away at the Scottish war, we
have never been apart. Therefore, we know each other well, as
well as any can who are not wedded. Therefore, too, you will know
that I have always loved you, first as a brother loves his
sister, and now as a man loves a woman."
"Nay, Godwin, I knew it not; indeed, I thought that, as it used
to be, your heart was other--where."
"Other--where? What lady--?"
"Nay, no lady; but in your dreams."
"Dreams? Dreams of what?"
"I cannot say. Perchance of things that are not here--things
higher than the person of a poor maid."
"Cousin, in part you are right, for it is not only the maid whom
I love, but her spirit also. Oh, in truth, you are to me a
dream--a symbol of all that is noble, high and pure. In you and
through you, Rosamund, I worship the heaven I hope to share with
you."
"A dream? A symbol? Heaven? Are not these glittering garments to
hang about a woman's shape? Why, when the truth came out you
would find her but a skull in a jewelled mask, and learn to
loath her for a deceit that was not her own, but yours. Godwin,
such trappings as your imagination pictures could only fit an
angel s face."
"They fit a face that will become an angel's."
"An angel's? How know you? I am half an Eastern; the blood runs
warm in me at times. I, too, have my thoughts and visions. I
think that I love power and imagery and the delights of life--a
different life from this. Are you sure, Godwin, that this poor
face will be an angel's?"
"I wish I were as sure of other things. At least I'll risk it."
"Think of your soul, Godwin. It might be tarnished. You would not
risk that for me, would you?"
He thought. Then answered:
"No; since your soul is a part of mine, and I would not risk
yours, Rosamund."
"I like you for that answer," she said."Yes; more than for all
you have said before, because I know that it is true. Indeed, you
are an honourable knight, and I am proud--very proud--that you
should love me, though perhaps it would have been better
otherwise." And ever so little she bent the knee to him.
"Whatever chances, in life or death those words will make me
happy, Rosamund."
Suddenly she caught his arm."Whatever chances? Ah! what is about
to chance? Great things, I think, for you and Wulf and me.
Remember, I am half an Eastern, and we children of the East can
feel the shadow of the future before it lays its hands upon us
and becomes the present. I fear it, Godwin--I tell you that I
fear it."
"Fear it not, Rosamund. Why should you fear? On God's knees lies
the scroll of our lives, and of His purposes. The words we see
and the words we guess may be terrible, but He who wrote it knows
the end of the scroll, and that it is good. Do not fear,
therefore, but read on with an untroubled heart, taking no
thought for the morrow."
She looked at him wonderingly, and asked,
"Are these the words of a wooer or of a saint in wooer's weeds? I
know not, and do you know yourself? But you say you love me and
that you would wed me, and I believe it; also that the woman whom
Godwin weds will be fortunate, since such men are rare. But I am
forbid to answer till to-morrow. Well, then I will answer as I am
given grace. So till then be what you were of old, and--the snow
has ceased; guide me home, my cousin Godwin."
So home they went through the darkness and the cold, moaning
wind, speaking no word, and entered the wide hall, where a great
fire built in its centre roared upwards towards an opening in the
roof, whence the smoke escaped, looking very pleasant and
cheerful after the winter night without.
There, standing in front of the fire, also pleasant and cheerful
to behold, although his brow seemed somewhat puckered, was Wulf.
At the sight of him Godwin turned back through the great door,
and having, as it were, stood for one moment in the light,
vanished again into the darkness, closing the door behind him.
But Rosamund walked on towards the fire.
"You seem cold, cousin," said Wulf, studying her. "Godwin has
kept you too long to pray with him in church. Well, it is his
custom, from which I myself have suffered. Be seated on this
settle and warm yourself."
She obeyed without a word, and opening her fur cloak, stretched
out her hands towards the flame, which played upon her dark and
lovely face. Wulf looked round him.
The hall was empty. Then he looked at Rosamund.
"I am glad to find this chance of speaking with you alone,
Cousin, since I have a question to ask of you; but I must pray of
you to give me no answer to it until four-and-twenty hours be
passed."
"Agreed," she said."I have given one such promise; let it serve
for both; now for your question."
"Ah!" replied Wulf cheerfully;"I am glad that Godwin went first,
since it saves me words, at which he is better than I am."
"I do not know that, Wulf; at least, you have more of them,"
answered Rosamund, with a little smile.
"More perhaps, but of a different quality--that is what you mean.
Well, happily here mere words are not in question."
"What, then, are in question, Wulf?"
"Hearts. Your heart and my heart--and, I suppose, Godwin's heart,
if he has one--in that way."
"Why should not Godwin have a heart?"
"Why? Well, you see just now it is my business to belittle
Godwin. Therefore I declare--which you, who know more about it,
can believe or not as it pleases you--that Godwin's heart is like
that of the old saint in the reliquary at Stangate--a thing which
may have beaten once, and will perhaps beat again in heaven, but
now is somewhat dead--to this world."
Rosamund smiled, and thought to herself that this dead heart had
shown signs of life not long ago. But aloud she said:
"If you have no more to say to me of Godwin's heart, I will
begone to read with my father, who waits for me."
"Nay, I have much more to say of my own." Then suddenly Wulf
became very earnest--so earnest that his great frame shook, and
when he strove to speak he could but stammer. At length it all
came forth in a flood of burning words.
"I love you, Rosamund! I love you--all of you, as I have ever
loved you--though I did not know it till the other day--that of
the fight, and ever shall love you--and I seek you for my wife. I
know that I am only a rough soldier-man, full of faults, not holy
and learned like Godwin. Yet I swear that I would be a true
knight to you all my life, and, if the saints give me grace and
strength, do great deeds in your honour and watch you well. Oh!
what more is their to say?"
"Nothing, Wulf," answered Rosamund, lifting her downcast eyes.
"You do not wish that I should answer you, so I will thank
you--yes, from my heart, though, in truth, I am grieved that we
can be no more brother and sister, as we have been this many a
year--and be going."
"Nay, Rosamund, not yet. Although you may not speak, surely you
might give me some little sign, who am in torment, and thus must
stay until this time to-morrow. For instance, you might let me
kiss your hand--the pact said nothing about kissing.
"I know naught of this pact, Wulf," answered Rosamund sternly,
although a smile crept about the corners of her mouth,"but I do
know that I shall not suffer you to touch my hand."
"Then I will kiss your robe," and seizing a corner of her cloak,
he pressed it to his lips.
"You are strong--I am weak, Wulf, and cannot wrench my garment
from you, but I tell you that this play advantages you nothing."
He let the cloak fall.
"Your pardon. I should have remembered that Godwin would never
have presumed so far."
"Godwin," she said, tapping her foot upon the ground,"if he gave
a promise, would keep it m the spirit as well as in the letter."
"I suppose so. See what it is for an erring man to have a saint
for a brother and a rival! Nay, be not angry with me, Rosamund,
who cannot tread the path of saints."
"That I believe, but at least, Wulf, there is no need to mock
those who can."
"I mock him not. I love him as well as--you do." And he watched
her face.
It never changed, for in Rosamund's heart were hid the secret
strength and silence of the East, which can throw a mask
impenetrable over face and features.
"I am glad that you love him, Wulf. See to it that you never
forget your love and duty."
"I will; yes--even if you reject me for him."
"Those are honest words, such as I looked to hear you speak," she
replied in a gentle voice."And now, dear Wulf, farewell, for I am
weary--"
"To-morrow--" he broke in.
"Ay," she answered in a heavy voice."To-morrow I must speak,
and--you must listen."
The sun had run his course again, and once more it was near four
o'clock in the afternoon. The brethren stood by the great fire in
the hall looking at each other doubtfully--as, indeed, they had
looked through all the long hours of the night, during which
neither of them had closed an eye.
"It is time," said Wulf, and Godwin nodded.
As he spoke a woman was seen descending from the solar, and they
knew her errand.
"Which?" asked Wulf, but Godwin shook his head.
"Sir Andrew bids me say that he would speak with you both," said
the woman, and went her way.
"By the saints, I believe it's neither!" exclaimed Wulf, with a
little laugh.
"It may be thus," said Godwin,"and perhaps that would be best for
all."
"I don't think so," answered Wulf, as he followed him up the
steps of the solar.
Now they had passed the passage and closed the door, and before
them was Sir Andrew seated in his chair by the fire, but not
alone, for at his side, her hand resting upon his shoulder, stood
Rosamund. They noted that she was clad in her richest robes, and
a bitter thought came into their minds that this might be to show
them how beautiful was the woman whom both of them must lose. As
they advanced they bowed first to her and then to their uncle,
while, lifting her eyes from the ground, she smiled a little in
greeting.
"Speak, Rosamund," said her father. "These knights are in doubt
and pain."
"Now for the coup de grace," muttered Wulf.
"My cousins," began Rosamund in a low, quiet voice, as though she
were saying a lesson,"as to the matter of which you spoke to me
yesterday, I have taken counsel with my father and with my own
heart. You did me great honour, both of you, in asking me to be
the wife of such worthy knights, with whom I have been brought
up and have loved since childhood as a sister loves her brothers.
I will be brief as I may. Alas! I can give to neither of you the
answer which you wish."
"Coup de grace indeed," muttered Wulf,"through hauberk, gambeson,
and shirt, right home to the heart."
But Godwin only turned a trifle paler and said nothing.
Now there was silence for a little space, while from beneath his
bushy eyebrows the old knight watched their faces, on which the
light of the tapers fell.
Then Godwin spoke:"We thank you, Cousin. Come, Wulf, we have our
answer; let us be going."
"Not all of it," broke in Rosamund hastily, and they seemed to
breathe again.
"Listen," she said;"for if it pleases you, I am willing to make a
promise which my father has approved. Come to me this time two
years, and if we all three live, should both of you still wish
for me to wife, that there may be no further space of pain or
waiting, I will name the man whom I shall choose, and marry him
at once."
"And if one of us is dead?" asked Godwin.
"Then," replied Rosamund, "if his name be untarnished, and he has
done no deed that is not knightly, will forthwith wed the other."
"Pardon me--" broke in Wulf.
She held up her hand and stopped him, saying: "You think this a
strange saying, and so, perhaps, it is; but the matter is also
strange, and for me the case is hard. Remember, all my life is at
stake, and I may desire more time wherein to make my choice, that
between two such men no maiden would find easy. We are all of us
still young for marriage, for which, if God guards our lives,
there will be time and to spare. Also in two years I may learn
which of you is in truth the worthier knight, who to-day both
seem so worthy."
"Then is neither of us more to you than the other?" asked Wulf
outright.
Rosamund turned red, and her bosom heaved as she replied:
"I will not answer that question."
"And Wulf should not have asked it," said Godwin."Brother, I read
Rosamund's saying thus: Between us she finds not much to choose,
or if she does in her secret heart, out of her kindness--since
she is determined not to marry for a while--she will not suffer
us to see it and thereby bring grief on one of us. So she says,
'Go forth, you knights, and do deeds worthy of such a lady, and
perchance he who does the highest deeds shall receive the great
reward.' For my part, I find this judgment wise and just, and I
am content to abide its issue. Nay, I am even glad of it, since
it gives us time and opportunity to show our sweet cousin here,
and all our fellows, the mettle whereof we are made, and strive
to outshine each other in the achievement of great feats which,
as always, we shall attempt side by side."
"Well spoken," said Sir Andrew."And you, Wulf?"
Then Wulf, feeling that Rosamund was watching his face beneath
the shadow of her long eyelashes, answered:
"Before Heaven, I am content also, for whatever may be said
against it, now at least there will be two years of war in which
one or both of us well may fall, and for that while at least no
woman can come between our brotherhood. Uncle, I crave your leave
to go serve my liege in Normandy."
"And I also," said Godwin.
"In the spring; in the spring," replied Sir Andrew hastily;"when
King Henry moves his power. Meanwhile, bide you here in all good
fellowship, for, who knows--much may happen between now and then,
and perhaps your strong arms will be needed as they were not long
ago. Moreover, I look to all three of you to hear no more of this
talk of love and marriage, which, in truth, disturbs my mind and
house. For good or ill, the matter is now settled for two years
to come, by which time it is likely I shall be in my grave and
beyond all troubling.
"I do not say that things have gone altogether as I could have
wished, but they are as Rosamund wishes, and that is enough for
me. On which of you she looks with the more favour I do not know,
and be you content to remain in ignorance of what a father does
not think it wise to seek to learn. A maid's heart is her own,
and her future lies in the hand of God and His saints, where let
it bide, say I. Now we have done with all this business.
Rosamund, dismiss your knights, and be you all three brothers and
sister once more till this time two years, when those who live
will find an answer to the riddle."
So Rosamund came forward, and without a word gave her right hand
to Godwin and her left to Wulf, and suffered that they should
press their lips upon them. So for a while this was the end of
their asking of her in marriage.
The brethren left the solar side by side as they had come into
it, but changed men in a sense, for now their lives were afire
with a great purpose, which bade them dare and do and win. Yet
they were lighter-hearted than when they entered there, since at
least neither had been scorned, while both had hope, and all the
future, which the young so seldom fear, lay before them.
As they descended the steps their eyes fell upon the figure of a
tall man clad in a pilgrim's cape, hood and low-crowned hat, of
which the front was bent upwards and laced, who carried in his
hand a palmer's staff, and about his waist the scrip and
water-bottle.
"What do you seek, holy palmer?" asked Godwin, coming towards
him. "A night's lodging in my uncle's house?"
The man bowed; then, fixing on him a pair of beadlike brown eyes,
which reminded Godwin of some he had seen, he knew not when or
where, answered in the humble voice affected by his class:
"Even so, most noble knight. Shelter for man and beast, for my
mule is held without. Also--a word with the lord, Sir Andrew
D'Arcy, for whom I have a message."
"A mule?" said Wulf."I thought that palmers always went afoot?"
"True, Sir Knight; but, as it chances, I have baggage. Nay, not
my own, whose earthly gear is all upon my back--but a chest, that
contains I know not what, which I am charged to deliver to Sir
Andrew D'Arcy, the owner of this hall, or should he be dead, then
to the lady Rosamund, his daughter."
"Charged? By whom?" asked Wulf.
"That, sir," said the palmer, bowing,"I will tell to Sir Andrew,
who, I understand, still lives. Have I your leave to bring in the
chest, and if so, will one of your servants help me, for it is
heavy?"
"We will help you," said Godwin. And they went with him into the
courtyard, where by the scant light of the stars they saw a fine
mule in charge of one of the serving men, and bound upon its back
a long-shaped package sewn over with sacking. This the palmer
unloosed, and taking one end, while Wulf, after bidding the man
stable the mule, took the other, they bore it into the hall,
Godwin going before them to summon his uncle. Presently he came
and the palmer bowed to him.
"What is your name, palmer, and whence is this box?" asked the
old knight, looking at him keenly.
"My name, Sir Andrew, is Nicholas of Salisbury, and as to who
sent me, with your leave I will whisper in your ear." And,
leaning forward, he did so.
Sir Andrew heard and staggered back as though a dart had pierced
him.
"What?" he said. "Are you, a holy palmer, the messenger of--" and
he stopped suddenly.
"I was his prisoner, answered the man, "and he--who at least ever
keeps his word--gave me my life--for I had been condemned to
die-- at the price that I brought this to you, and took back your
answer, or hers, which I have sworn to do."
"Answer? To what?"
"Nay, I know nothing save that there is a writing in the chest.
Its purport I am not told, who am but a messenger bound by oath
to do certain things. Open the chest, lord, and meanwhile, if you
have food, I have travelled far and fast."
Sir Andrew went to a door, and called to his men-servants, whom
he bade give meat to the palmer and stay with him while he ate.
Then he told Godwin and Wulf to lift the box and bring it to the
solar, and with it hammer and chisel, in case they should be
needed, which they did, setting it upon the oaken table.
"Open," said Sir Andrew. So they ripped off the canvas, two folds
of it, revealing within a box of dark, foreign looking wood bound
with iron bands, at which they laboured long before they could
break them. At length it was done, and there within was another
box beautifully made of polished ebony, and sealed at the front
and ends with a strange device. This box had a lock of silver, to
which was tied a silver key.
"At least it has not been tampered with," said Wulf, examining
the unbroken seals, but Sir Andrew only repeated:
"Open, and be swift. Here, Godwin, take the key, for my hand
shakes with cold."
The lock turned easily, and the seals being broken, the lid rose
upon its hinges, while, as it did so, a scent of precious odours
filled the place. Beneath, covering the contents of the chest,
was an oblong piece of worked silk, and Iying on it a parchment.
Sir Andrew broke the thread and seal, and unrolled the parchment.
Within it was written over in strange characters. Also, there was
a second unsealed roll, written in a clerkly hand in Norman
French, and headed, "Translation of this letter, in case the
knight, Sir Andrew D'Arcy, has forgotten the Arabic tongue, or
that his daughter, the lady Rosamund, has not yet learned the
same."
Sir Andrew glanced at both headings, then said:
"Nay, I have not forgotten Arabic, who, while my lady lived,
spoke little else with her, and who taught it to our daughter.
But the light is bad, and, Godwin, you are scholarly; read me the
French. We can compare them afterwards.
At this moment Rosamund entered the solar from her chamber, and
seeing the three of them so strangely employed, said:
"Is it your will that I go, father?"
"No, daughter. Since you are here, stay here. I think that this
matter concerns you as well as me. Read on, Godwin."
So Godwin read:
"In the Name of God, the Merciful and Compassionate! I,
Salah-ed-din, Yusuf ibn Ayoub, Commander of the Faithful, cause
these words to be written, and seal them with my own hand, to the
Frankish lord, Sir Andrew D'Arcy, husband of my sister by another
mother, Sitt Zobeide, the beautiful and faithless, on whom Allah
has taken vengeance for her sin. Or if he be dead also, then to
his daughter and hers, my niece, and by blood a princess of Syria
and Egypt, who among the English is named the lady Rose of the
World.
"You, sir Andrew, will remember how, many years ago, what we were
friends, you, by an evil chance, became acquainted with my sister
Zobeide, while you were a prisoner and sick in my father's house.
How, too, Satan put it into her heart to listen to your words of
love, so that she became a Cross-worshipper, and was married to
you after the Frankish custom, and fled with you to England. You
will remember also, although at the time we could not recapture
her from your vessel, how I sent a messenger to you, saying that
soon or late I would yet tear her from your arms and deal with
her as we deal with faithless women. But within six years of that
time sure news reached me that Allah had taken her, therefore I
mourned for my sister and her fate awhile, and forgot her and
you.
"Know that a certain knight named Lozelle, who dwelt in the part
of England where you have your castle, has told me that Zobeide
left a daughter, who is very beautiful. Now my heart, which loved
her mother, goes out towards this niece whom I have never seen,
for although she is your child and a Cross-worshipper at
least--save in the matter of her mother's theft--you were a brave
and noble knight, of good blood, as, indeed, I remember your
brother was also, he who fell in the fight at Harenc.
"Learn now that, having by the will of Allah come to great estate
here at Damascus and throughout the East, I desire to lift your
daughter up to be a princess of my house. Therefore I invite her
to journey to Damascus, and you with her, if you live. Moreover,
lest you should fear some trap, on behalf of myself, my
successors and councillors, I promise in the Name of God, and by
the word of Salah-ed-din, which never yet was broken, that
although I trust the merciful God may change her heart so that
she enters it of her own will, I will not force her to accept the
Faith or to bind herself in any marriage which she does not
desire. Nor will I take vengeance upon you, Sir Andrew, for what
you have done m the past, or suffer others to do so, but will
rather raise you to great honour and live with you in friendship
as of yore.
"But if my messenger returns and tells me that my niece refuses
this, my loving offer, then I warn her that my arm is long, and I
will surely take her as I can.
"Therefore, within a year of the day that I receive the answer of
the lady, my niece, who is named Rose of the World, my emissaries
will appear wherever she may be, married or single, to lead her
to me, with honour if she be willing, but still to lead her to me
if she be unwilling. Meanwhile, in token of my love, I send
certain gifts of precious things, and with them my patent of her
title as Princess, and Lady of the City of Baalbec, which title,
with its revenue and prerogatives, are registered in the archives
of my empire in favour of her and her lawful heirs, and declared
to be binding upon me and my successors forever.
"The bearer of this letter and of my gifts is a certain
Cross-worshipper named Nicholas, to whom let your answer be
handed for delivery to me. This devoir he is under oath to
perform and will perform it, for he knows that if he fails
therein, then that he must die.
"Signed by Salah-ed-din, Commander of the Faithful, at Damascus,
and sealed with his seal, in the spring season of the year of the
Hegira 581.
"Take note also that this writing having been read to me by my
secretary before I set my name and seal thereunto, I perceive
that you, Sir Andrew, or you, Lady Rose of the World, may think
it strange that I should be at such pains and cost over a maid
who is not of my religion and whom I never saw, and may therefore
doubt my honesty in the matter. Know then the true reason. Since
I heard that you, Lady Rose of the World, lived, I have thrice
been visited by a dream sent from God concerning you, and in it I
saw your face.
"Now this was the dream--that the oath I made as regards your
mother is binding as regards you also; further, that in some way
which is not revealed to me, your presence here will withhold me
from the shedding of a sea of blood, and save the whole world
much misery. Therefore it is decreed that you must come and bide
in my house. That these things are so, Allah and His Prophet be
my witnesses."
