Chapter Seven: The Banner of Saladin
As the echoes of Hassan's whistle died away there was a crash
amongst the wooden shutters of the window behind them, and down
into the room leaped a long, lithe figure, holding an axe aloft.
Before Sir Andrew could turn to see whence the sound came, that
axe dealt him a fearful blow between the shoulders which,
although the ringed mail remained unshorn, shattered his spine
beneath. Down he fell, rolled on to his back, and lay there,
still able to speak and without pain, but helpless as a child.
For he was paralysed, and never more would move hand or foot or
head.
In the silence that followed he spoke in a heavy voice, letting
his eyes rest upon the man who had struck him down.
"A knightly blow, truly; one worthy of a Christian born who does
murder for Paynim pay! Traitor to God and man, who have eaten my
bread and now slaughter me like an ox on my hearth-stone, may
your own end be even worse, and at the hands of those you
serve."
The palmer Nicholas, for it was he, although he no longer wore
the palmer's robe, slunk away muttering, and was lost among the
crowd in the passage. Then, with a sudden and a bitter cry,
Rosamund swooped forward, as a bird swoops, snatched up the
sword her sire would never lift again, and setting its hilt upon
the floor, cast herself forward. But its point never touched her
breast, for the emir sprang swiftly and struck the steel aside;
then, as she fell, caught her in his arms. "Lady," he said,
loosing her very gently. "Allah does not need you yet. I have
told you that it is not fated. Now will you pass me your
word--for being of the blood of Salah-ed-din and D'Arcy, you,
too, cannot lie--that neither now nor afterwards you will attempt
to harm yourself? If not, I must bind you, which I am loth to
do--it is a sacrilege to which I pray you will not force me."
"Promise, Rosamund," said the hollow voice of her father, "and go
to fulfil your fate. Self-murder is a crime, and the man is
right; it is decreed. I bid you promise."
"I obey and promise," said Rosamund. "It is your hour, my lord
Hassan."
He bowed deeply and answered:
"I am satisfied, and henceforth we are your servants. Princess,
the night air is bitter; you cannot travel thus. In which chamber
are your garments?"
She pointed with her finger. A man took a taper, and, accompanied
by two others, entered the place, to return presently with their
arms full of all the apparel they could find. Indeed, they even
brought her missal and the silver crucifix which hung above her
bed and with it her leathern case of trinkets.
"Keep out the warmest cloak," said Hassan," and tie the rest up
in those carpets."
So the rugs that Sir Andrew had bought that day from the merchant
Georgios were made to serve as travelling bags to hold his
daughter's gear. Thus even in this hour of haste and danger
thought was taken for her comfort.
"Princess," said Hassan, bowing, "my master, your uncle, sent you
certain jewels of no mean value. Is it your wish that they should
accompany you?"
Without lifting her eyes from her dying father's face, Rosamund
answered heavily:
"Where they are, there let them bide. What have I to do with
jewels?"
"Your will is my law," he said, "and others will be found for
you. Princess, all is ready; we wait your pleasure."
"My pleasure? Oh, God, my pleasure?" exclaimed Rosamund in the
same drear voice, still staring at her father, who lay before her
on the ground.
"I cannot help it," said Hassan, answering the question in her
eyes, and there was grief in his tone."He would not come, he
brought it on himself; though in truth I wish that accursed Frank
had not struck so shrewdly. If you ask it, we will bear him with
you; but, lady, it is idle to hide the truth--he is sped. I have
studied medicine, and I know."
"Nay," said Sir Andrew from the floor, "leave me here. Daughter,
we must part awhile. As I stole his child from Ayoub, so Ayoub's
son steals my child from me. Daughter, cling to the faith--that
we may meet again."
"To the death," she answered.
"Be comforted," said Hassan. "Has not Salah-ed-din passed his
word that except her own will or that of Allah should change her
heart, a Cross-worshipper she may live and die? Lady, for your
own sake as well as ours, let this sad farewell be brief. Begone,
my servants, taking these dead and wounded with you. There are
things it is not fitting that common eyes should see."
They obeyed, and the three of them remained alone together. Then
Rosamund knelt down beside her father, and they whispered into
each other's ears. Hassan turned his back upon them, and threw
the corner of his cloak over his head and eyes that he might
neither see nor hear their voices in this dread and holy hour of
parting.
It would seem that they found some kind of hope and consolation
in it--at least when Rosamund kissed him for the last time, Sir
Andrew smiled and said:
"Yes, yes; it may all be for the best. God will guard you, and
His will be done. But I forgot. Tell me, daughter, which?"
Again she whispered into his ear, and when he had thought a
moment, he answered:
"Maybe you are right. I think that is wisest for all. And now on
the three of you--aye, and on your children's children's
children--let my blessing rest, as rest it shall. Come hither,
Emir."
Hassan heard him through his cloak, and, uncovering, came.
"Say to Saladin, your master, that he has been too strong for me,
and paid me back in my own coin. Well, had it been otherwise, my
daughter and I must soon have parted, for death drew near to me.
At least it is the decree of God, to which I bow my head,
trusting there may be truth in that dream of his, and that our
sorrows, in some way unforeseen, will bring blessings to our
brethren in the East. But to Saladin say also that whatever his
bigot faith may teach, for Christian and for Paynim there is a
meeting-place beyond the grave. Say that if aught of wrong or
insult is done towards this maiden, I swear by the God who made
us both that there I will hold him to account. Now, since it must
be so, take her and go your way, knowing that my spirit follows
after you and her; yes, and that even in this world she will find
avengers."
"I hear your words, and I will deliver them," answered Hassan.
"More, I believe that they are true, and for the rest you have
the oath of Salah-ed-din--ay, and my oath while she is in my
charge. Therefore, Sir Andrew D'Arcy, forgive us, who are but the
instruments of Allah, and die in peace."
"I, who have so much to be forgiven, forgive you," answered the
old knight slowly.
Then his eyes fixed themselves upon his daughter's face with one
long, searching look, and closed.
"I think that he is dead," said Hassan. "May God, the Merciful
and Compassionate, rest his soul!" And taking a white garment
from the wall, he flung it over him, adding, "Lady, come."
Thrice Rosamund looked at the shrouded figure on the floor; once
she wrung her hands and seemed about to fall. Then, as though a
thought struck her, she lifted her father's sword from where it
lay, and gathering her strength, drew herself up and passed like
a queen down the blood-stained passage and the steps of the
solar. In the hall beneath waited the band of Hassan, who bowed
as she came--a vision of despairing loveliness, that held aloft a
red and naked sword. There, too, lay the drugged men fallen this
way and that, and among them Wulf across the table, and Godwin on
the dais. Rosamund spoke.
"Are these dead or sleeping?"
"Have no fear," answered Hassan. "By my hope of paradise, they do
but sleep, and will awake ere morning."
Rosamund pointed to the renegade Nicholas--he that had struck
down her father from behind--who, an evil look upon his face,
stood apart from the Saracens, holding in his hand a lighted
torch.
"What does this man with the torch?" she asked.
"If you would know, lady," Nicholas answered with a sneer, "I
wait till you are out of it to fire the hall."
"Prince Hassan," said Rosamund, "is this a deed that great
Saladin would wish, to burn drugged men beneath their own roof?
Now, as you shall answer to him, in the name of Saladin I, a
daughter of his House, command you, strike the fire from that
man's hand, and in my hearing give your order that none should
even think of such an act of shame."
"What?" broke in Nicholas, "and leave knights like these, whose
quality you know"--and he pointed to the brethren--"to follow in
our path, and take our lives in vengeance? Why, it is madness!"
"Are you master here, traitor, or am I?" asked Hassan in cold
contempt. "Let them follow if they will, and I for one shall
rejoice to meet foes so brave in open battle, and there give them
their revenge. Ali," he added, addressing the man who had been
disguised as a merchant's underling, and who had drugged the men
in the barn as his master had drugged those in the hall, and
opened the moat gate to the band, "Ali, stamp upon the torch and
guard that Frank till we reach the boat lest the fool should
raise the country on us with his fires. Now, Princess, are you
satisfied?"
"Ay, having your word," she answered. "One moment, I pray you. I
would leave a token to my knights."
Then, while they watched her with wondering eyes, she unfastened
the go!d cross and chain that hung upon her bosom, and slipping
the cross from the chain, went to where Godwin lay, and placed it
on his breast. Next, with a swift movement, she wound the chain
about the silver hilt of Sir Andrew's sword, and passing to Wulf,
with one strong thrust, drove the point between the oak boards of
the table, so that it stood before him--at once a cross, a brand
of battle, and a lady's token.
"His grandsire bore it,'' she said in Arabic, "when he leapt on
to the walls of Jerusalem. It is my last gift to him." But the
Saracens muttered and turned pale at these words of evil omen.
Then taking the hand of Hassan, who stood searching her white,
inscrutable face, with never a word or a backward look, she swept
down the length of the long hall, and out into the night beyond.
"It would have been well to take my counsel and fire the place,
or at least to cut the throats of all within it," said the man
Nicholas to his guard Ali as they followed with the rest. "If I
know aught of these brethren, cross and sword will soon be hard
upon our track, and men's lives must pay the price of such soft
folly." And he shivered as though in fear.
"It may be so, Spy," answered the Saracen, looking at him with
sombre, contemptuous eyes."It may be that your life will pay the
price."
Wulf was dreaming, dreaming that he stood on his head upon a
wooden plank, as once he had seen a juggler do, which turned
round one way while he turned round the other, till at length
some one shouted at him, and he tumbled off the board and hurt
himself. Then he awoke to hear a voice shouting surely
enough--the voice of Matthew, the chaplain of Steeple Church.
"Awake!" said the voice. "In God's name, I conjure you, awake!"
"What is it?" he said, lifting his head sleepily, and becoming
conscious of a dull pain across his forehead.
"It is that death and the devil have been here, Sir Wulf."
"Well, they are often near together. But I thirst. Give me
water."
A serving-woman, pallid, dishevelled, heavy-eyed, who was
stumbling to and fro, lighting torches and tapers, for it was
still dark, brought it to him in a leathern jack, from which he
drank deeply.
"That is better," he said. Then his eye fell upon the bloody
sword set point downwards in the wood of the table before him,
and he exclaimed, "Mother of God! what is that? My uncle's
silver-hilted sword, red with blood, and Rosamund's gold chain
upon the hilt! Priest, where is the lady Rosamund?"
"Gone," answered the chaplain in a voice that sounded like a
groan. "The women woke and found her gone, and Sir Andrew lies
dead or dying in the solar--but now I have shriven him--and oh!
we have all been drugged. Look at them!" and he waved his hand
towards the recumbent forms. "I say that the devil has been
here."
Wulf sprang to his feet with an oath.
"The devil? Ah! I have it now. You mean the Cyprian chapman
Georgios. He who sold wine."
"He who sold drugged wine," echoed the chaplain, "and has stolen
away the lady Rosamund."
Then Wulf seemed to go mad.
"Stolen Rosamund over our sleeping carcases! Stolen Rosamund with
never a blow struck by us to save her! O, Christ, that such a
thing should be! O, Christ, that I should live to hear it!" And
he, the mighty man, the knight of skill and strength, broke down
and wept like a very child. But not for long, for presently he
shouted in a voice of thunder:
"Awake, ye drunkards! Awake, and learn what has chanced to us.
Your lady Rosamund has been raped away while we were lost in
sleep!"
At the sound of that great voice a tall form arose from the
floor, and staggered towards him, holding a gold cross in its
hand.
"What awful words are those my brother?" asked Godwin, who, pale
and dull-eyed, rocked to and fro before him. Then he, too, saw
the red sword and stared, first at it and next at the gold cross
in his hand. "My uncle's sword, Rosamund's chain, Rosamund's
cross! Where, then, is Rosamund?"
"Gone! gone! gone!" cried Wulf."Tell him, priest."
So the chaplain told him all he knew.
"Thus have we kept our oaths," went on Wulf."Oh, what can we do
now, save die for very shame?"
"Nay," answered Godwin, dreamingly; "we can live on to save her.
See, these are her tokens--the cross for me, the blood-stained
sword for you, and about its hilt the chain, a symbol of her
slavery. Now both of us must bear the cross; both of us must
wield the sword, and both of us must cut the chain, or if we
fail, then die."
"You rave," said Wulf; "and little wonder. Here, drink water.
Would that we had never touched aught else, as she did, and
desired that we should do. What said you of my uncle, priest?
Dead, or only dying? Nay, answer not, let us see. Come, brother."
Now together they ran, or rather reeled, torch in hand, along the
passage.
Wulf saw the bloodstains on the floor and laughed savagely.
"The old man made a good fight," he said,"while, like drunken
brutes, we slept."
They were there, and before them, beneath the white, shroud-like
cloak, lay Sir Andrew, the steel helm on his head, and his face
beneath it even whiter than the cloak.
At the sound of their footsteps he opened his eyes. "At length,
at length," he muttered."Oh, how many years have I waited for
you? Nay, be silent, for I do not know how long my strength will
last, but listen--kneel down and listen."
So they knelt on either side of him, and in quick, fierce words
he told them all--of the drugging, of the fight, of the long
parley carried on to give the palmer knave time to climb to the
window; of his cowardly blow, and of what chanced afterwards.
Then his strength seemed to fail him, but they poured drink down
his throat, and it came back again.
"Take horse swiftly," he gasped, pausing now and again to rest,
"and rouse the countryside. There is still a chance. Nay, seven
hours have gone by; there is no chance. Their plans were too well
laid; by now they will be at sea. So hear me. Go to Palestine.
There is money for your faring in my chest, but go alone, with no
company, for in time of peace these would betray you. Godwin,
draw off this ring from my finger, and with it as a token, find
out Jebal, the black sheik of the Mountain Tribe at Masyaf on
Lebanon. Bid him remember the vow he made to Andrew D'Arcy, the
English knight. If any can aid you, it will be Jebal, who hates
the Houses of Nur-ed-din and of Ayoub. So, I charge you, let
nothing-- I say nothing--turn you aside from seeking him.
"Afterwards act as God shall guide you. If they still live, kill
that traitor Nicholas and Hugh Lozelle, but, save in open war,
spare the Emir Hassan, who did but do his duty as an Eastern
reads it, and shown some mercy, for he could have slain or burnt
us all. This riddle has been hard for me; yet now, in my dying
hour, I seem to see its answer. I think that Saladin did not
dream in vain. Keep brave hearts, for I think also that at Masyaf
you will find friends, and that things will yet go well, and our
sorrows bear good fruit."
"What is that you said? She left you my father's sword, Wulf?
Then wield it bravely, winning honour for our name. She left you
the cross, Godwin? Wear it worthily, winning glory for the Lord,
and salvation to your soul. Remember what you have sworn.
Whate'er befall, bear no bitterness to one another. Be true to
one another, and to her, your lady, so that when at the last you
make your report to me before high Heaven, I may have no cause to
be ashamed of you, my nephews, Godwin and Wulf."
For a moment the dying man was silent, until his face lit up as
with a great gladness, and he cried in a loud, clear
voice,"Beloved wife, I hear you! O, God, I come!"
Then though his eyes stayed open, and the smile still rested on
his face, his jaw fell.
Thus died Sir Andrew D'Arcy.
Still kneeling on either side of him, the brethren watched the
end, and, as his spirit passed, bowed their heads in prayer.
"We have seen a great death," said Godwin presently ."Let us
learn a lesson from it, that when our time comes we may die like
him."
"Ay," answered Wulf, springing to his feet,"but first let us take
vengeance for it. Why, what is this? Rosamund's writing! Read it,
Godwin."
Godwin took the parchment and read:
"Follow me to Saladin. In that hope I live on."
"Surely we will follow you, Rosamund," he cried aloud. "Follow
you through life to death or victory."
Then he threw down the paper, and calling for the chaplain to
come to watch the body, they ran into the hall. By this time
about half of the folk were awake from their drugged sleep,
whilst others who had been doctored by the man Ali in the barn
staggered into the hall-- wild-eyed, white-faced, and holding
their hands to their heads and hearts. They were so sick and
bewildered, indeed, that it was difficult to make them understand
what had chanced, and when they learned the truth, the most of
them could only groan. Still, a few were found strong enough in
wit and body to grope their way through the darkness and the
falling snow to Stangate Abbey, to Southminster, and to the
houses of their neighbours, although of these there were none
near, praying that every true man would arm and ride to help them
in the hunt. Also Wulf, cursing the priest Matthew and himself
that he had not thought of it before, called him from his prayers
by their dead uncle, and charged him to climb the church tower as
swiftly as he could, and set light to the beacon that was laid
ready there.
Away he went, taking flint, steel, and tinder with him, and ten
minutes later the blaze was flaring furiously above the roof of
Steeple Church, warning all men of the need for help. Then they
armed, saddled such horses as they had, amongst them the three
that had been left there by the merchant Georgios, and gathered
all of them who were not too sick to ride or run, in the
courtyard of the Hall. But as yet their haste availed them
little, for the moon was down. Snow fell also, and the night was
still black as death--so black that a man could scarcely see the
hand he held before his face. So they must wait, and wait they
did, eating their hearts out with grief and rage, and bathing
their aching brows in icy water.
At length the dawn began to break, and by its first grey light
they saw men mounted and afoot feeling their way through the
snow, shouting to each other as they came to know what dreadful
thing had happened at Steeple. Quickly the tidings spread among
them that Sir Andrew was slain, and the lady Rosamund snatched
away by Paynims, while all who feasted in the place had been
drugged with poisoned wine by a man whom they believed to be a
merchant. So soon as a band was got together--perhaps thirty men
in all-- and there was light to stir by, they set out and began
to search, though where to look they knew not, for the snow had
covered up all traces of their foes.
"One thing is certain," said Godwin,"they must have come by
water."
"Ay," answered Wulf,"and landed near by, since, had they far to
go, they would have taken the horses, and must run the risk also
of losing their path in the darkness. To the Staithe! Let us try
Steeple Staithe."
So on they went across the meadow to the creek. It lay but three
bow-shots distant. At first they could see nothing, for the snow
covered the stones of the little pier, but presently a man cried
out that the lock of the water house, in which the brethren kept
their fishing-boat, was broken, and next minute, that the boat
was gone.
"She was small; she would hold but six men," cried a voice. "So
great a company could never have crowded into her."
"Fool!" one answered,"there may have been other boats."
So they looked again, and beneath the thin coating of rime, found
a mark in the mud by the Staithe, made by the prow of a large
boat, and not far from it a hole in the earth into which a peg
had been driven to make her fast.
Now the thing seemed clear enough, but it was to be made yet
clearer, for presently, even through the driving snow, the quick
eye of Wulf caught sight of some glittering thing which hung to
the edge of a clump of dead reeds. A man with a lance lifted it
out at his command, and gave it to him.
"I thought so," he said in a heavy voice; "it is a fragment of
that star-wrought veil which was my Christmas gift to Rosamund,
and she has torn it off and left it here to show us her road. To
St. Peter's-on-the-Wall! To St. Peter's, I say, for there the
boats or ship must pass, and maybe that in the darkness they have
not yet won out to sea."
So they turned their horses' heads, and those of them that were
mounted rode for St. Peter's by the inland path that runs through
Steeple St. Lawrence and Bradwell town, while those who were
not, started to search along the Saltings and the river bank. On
they galloped through the falling snow, Godwin and Wulf leading
the way, whilst behind them thundered an ever-gathering
train of knights, squires and yeomen, who had seen the beacon
flare on Steeple tower, or learned the tale from messengers--yes,
and even of monks from Stangate and traders from Southminster.
Hard they rode, but the lanes were heavy with fallen snow and mud
beneath, and the way was far, so that an hour had gone by before
Bradwell was left behind, and the shrine of St. Chad lay but half
a mile in front. Now of a sudden the snow ceased, and a strong
northerly wind springing up, drove the thick mist before it and
left the sky hard and blue behind. Still riding in this mist,
they pressed on to where the old tower loomed in front of them,
then drew rein and waited.
"What is that?" said Godwin presently, pointing to a great, dim
thing upon the vapour-hidden sea.
As he spoke a strong gust of wind tore away the last veils of
mist, revealing the red face of the risen sun, and not a hundred
yards away from them--for the tide was high--the tall masts of a
galley creeping out to sea beneath her banks of oars. As they
stared the wind caught her, and on the main-mast rose her
bellying sail, while a shout of laughter told them that they
themselves were seen. They shook their swords in the madness of
their rage, knowing well who was aboard that galley; while to the
fore peak ran up the yellow flag of Saladin, streaming there
like gold in the golden sunlight.
Nor was this all, for on the high poop appeared the tall shape of
Rosamund herself, and on one side of her, clad now in coat of
mail and turban, the emir Hassan, whom they had known as the
merchant Georgios, and on the other, a stout man, also clad in
mail, who at that distance looked like a Christian knight.
Rosamund stretched out her arms towards them. Then suddenly she
sprang forward as though she would throw herself into the sea,
had not Hassan caught her by the arm and held her back, whilst
the other man who was watching slipped between her and the
bulwark.
In his fury and despair Wulf drove his horse into the water till
the waves broke about his middle, and there, since he could go no
further, sat shaking his sword and shouting:
"Fear not! We follow! we follow!" in such a voice of thunder,
that even through the wind and across the everwidening space of
foam his words may have reached the ship. At least Rosamund
seemed to hear them, for she tossed up her arms as though in
token.
But Hassan, one hand pressed upon his heart and the other on his
forehead, only bowed thrice in courteous farewell.
Then the great sail filled, the oars were drawn in, and the
vessel swept away swiftly across the dancing waves, till at
length she vanished, and they could only see the sunlight playing
on the golden banner of Saladin which floated from her truck.
