DOCUMENT No. 3
(Concerning Raoul d'Ortez)
Indorsed on back, "Further notes by Abbot of Vaux."
_In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Sanctus Spiritus. Amen._
Further facts having come to my knowledge, in this, the year of graceone thousand five hundred and eighty nine, which do most gloriouslyillustrate the dispensations of a just God, and His visitation of thesins of the father upon the children of them who hate Him, it is deemedmeet and proper that they be here set down and perpetuated for thatfuture generations may know the truth; Therefore:
Be it held in everlasting memory, that Pedro d'Ortez, the same who hasbeen by me beforementioned as of a profane, carnal and blood-guiltylife, living not with the fear of God before his eyes, but filled withevil at the instigation of the devil:--The said Pedro having at thisperiod two sons, desired that the elder should, according to secularlaw, inherit his title and lands. He desired also, that the younger,Raoul, might enter the armies of the King. But Raoul, nothing loath,in so far as the fighting there was concerned, lusted yet for the goldand acres which were his father's. Pedro, the elder brother, being ofa mild and amiable temper, designed more for the cloister than thecamp, Raoul jested and jibed at him alway for his gentle dispositionand meekness of spirit.
All of these facts being stated and related to me by Brother Julian,who went betimes to the castle for alms and tithes--which same werefrequent denied and withheld, to the great detriment of our just dues.
One day, after a more than usually violent quarrel between Pedro andRaoul, their father came suddenly upon them in a retired portion of thecastle grounds. The sight was enough to startle even a man so used toshedding human blood as had been the Lord of Cartillon.
Pedro was slowly sinking to the ground, easing himself down somewhatupon his knees and elbows. His brother stood near watching, and calmlywiping the red drippings from his sword upon the grass. Not asemblance of regret did he show for the deed of blood.
The father gazed transfixed with horror from one son to the other,until the slow comprehension came to him.
"How now, Raoul, what hast thou done?" the older man demanded of Raoul.
"Canst thou not see? He stood between me and the lordship of this fairdomain," the younger replied full as sturdily, hot and scornful, withlowering brow and unrepenting glare.
"Thou foul and unnatural murderer, and thinkest thou to profit by thybrother's death? No; I swear--"
"Hold, old man; swear not and taint not thy soul with perjury. Have acare for thine own safety. It is now but the feeble barrier of thytottering age which prevents all these acres, these fighting men, thesetowers from being my own. Have a care, I say, that thou dost not lieas low as he, and by my hand."
The old man fell back a pace affrighted, feeling for the first time inhis life a fear, fear of his own son. Yet the scornful and defiantface before him was that of his true child. Therein he saw reflectedhis own turbulent and reckless youth. The wretched old man covered hisface from the sight of Pedro, his first born, who had settled down uponhis back in the repose of death, and moaned aloud in his agony.
"Nay, sorrow not, my father," Raoul commanded harshly, "it was but aweakling who stood next thy seat of power. Behold! I, too, am thyson; I am stronger, of a stouter heart, abler and more courageous thanhe, and will make thee a fitter heir. Didst thou not slay thy brotherto sit in his hall? Didst not thou hang him to drink his wine, tocommand his servants? Have I done aught but follow thy example?"
Heedless of his father's sobs Raoul pursued his unrelenting purpose.
"What the sword did for thee it has done for me, all glory to thesword," and he raised the reeking blade to his lips to kiss. The elderman shrank away from him as he approached.
"Nay, as I tell thee, draw not thy hand away, turn not from me, or bythe blood of Christ, by thine own gray hairs, I'll lay thee beside thywoman-son, the puny changeling whose face now is scarce paler than hisblood was thin. Now, by the God who made ye, swear 'twill be given outas but an accident, and no man will ever know from thee the truth."
"I swear, I swear," the old man repeated piteously after his son.
And so it came to be that Raoul, the second son, succeeded his fatheras Lord of Cartillon.
And thus is the promise of the Lord God made true.
DOCUMENT No. 4
(Concerning the making of the locket)
Extracts from the statement of Miguel Siliceo, goldsmith, of SanEstevan de Gormaz, as given in presence of Brothers Jehan and Hubert,only such portions being here set out as have relation hereto, for thesake of greater brevity and perspicuity.
Said Miguel Siliceo, Spaniard, sojourning in the town of Rouen, havingcome to the Monastery of Vaux to unburthen his soul of certaindiabolical knowledge and happenings which preyed thereon, to his greatdistress and distraction of mind, having first solemnly sworn upon thename of St. Iago of Compostella, his patron, to speak truth, did say: ** *
I came to Chateau Cartillon in the year of grace one thousand sixhundred and forty-two, upon the solicitation of its lord, he havingknown me upon the banks of the Douro for a master workman, well skilledin rare and curious devices, both of metals and precious stones. Formore than two years I rested in and about the castle, seeing muchwhereof my soul hath need of ease and God's forgiveness. * * *
* * * One day Count Raoul, being vexed and much disturbed, commanded myattendance upon him.
"My good Miguel," he spake in voice much softer than was his wont, "Ido require of you a proof of utmost skill."
I bowed my willingness to undertake a commission.
"I require a golden locket, such as man never saw before, of rare andcunning device. Do you forthwith make it for me, showing upon the oneside the black wolf's head of d'Artin, and quarterings, in fairestinlaid work. Upon the other and hidden side, let it appear the blackwolf's head as before, but surcharged with the bar sinister. You know.And let it be concealed by so secretly a hidden spring, no hand butmine can touch or find," and as he spoke on, his tongue flew thetaster, his eyes roved about, he kept tight grip upon his sword as ifhe feared. He, Raoul of Cartillon, the man whose headlong courage wasan army's byword, he feared in his own hall.
Even so, for proceeding further, his speech grew more wild, and I fainwould have fled.
"You know my oath to my father." I of course knew naught of thematter, nor do I know it yet, though I have diligent inquired.
"My oath to forego the hall, give up my place with my fighting men.Yea, upon my father's sword I swore, recking light of an oath, and theold man, dying, would have it so. That oath torments me now. The evildemons of the air haunt my bed; fiends leer at me through the day andwhisper all the night. I see my father's soul writhing in the fires ofHell, and there he lays and beckons me to him. But no, by the heart ofMars I'll be no craven fool to give up my castle and my name. Perhapsmy son may, I'll make him swear to me to do so. Yet I fear; I fear; Ilike not that pit of scorching flame where my father suffers because hedid lay his hand upon his brother."
I could not but look him in the face, and he thought there was wisdomin my glance, for he clutched me at the throat.
"Ah, thou prying hound, what dost thou know? Speak! Speak!"
But speak I could not, though a soul's salvation hung on my glib andnimble tongue.
Count Raoul soon loosed me, seeing my ignorance. Yet some dark storyhad I heard and repeated not--the crimes of the great are too dangerousmorsels for a poor man to mouth.
"Go now to thy shop, and mark ye, sirrah, that no man sees thy work."
I had hardly gotten well to my forge before three stout varlets came inon a pretense of seeing a golden bracelet which I showed them withoutsuspecting aught. When, my back well turned, they slipped gyves uponmy wrists, bound me by a great band of iron at the waist, and made allfast to the huge stone pillar.
Thenceforward, all through the days and nights which followed, one ofthese men stood ever at my window to see I worked with
speed, worked onthe locket and not upon my chains.
Count Raoul came many times as the work progressed, but the guards werealway at too great a distance to tell in what quaint form my beatengold was fashioned.
Many, many lockets I made of cunning workmanship and design, of curiouschasings and most marvelous wrought intertwinings, yet none suited mylord. One after one they returned to the melting pot and my laborsre-commenced.
During the long months I was thus engaged, I saw the Count often, nay,more than daily, for his whole feverish life seemed in-woven with theyellow and white metals I was busy interlacing and rounding andpolishing up.
At times an abject fear sat upon his countenance, and he mumbled ofstrange sights he saw, of communings with the Prince of Darkness, ofspecters gaunt and hideous that glided through the deserted court-yard,and stood beside his chair even in the noisy banquet chamber.
For that the Count was mad I could not doubt.
Yea, of all these things he spake as he urged me on as a lazy horseunder whip and goad, to finish, finish.
I inquired of this at great risk of one of the men who stood guard; hetapped his forehead, and replied:
"He does all things so. It is so in camp, on the field, in the hall.Aye, but he's a very fiend in battle," and the fellow's eye brightenedwith a fierce pleasure at the thought of his lord's well-knownprowess--for Count Raoul had wandered much in foreign lands, and deedsof blood followed in whispers to his door.
* * * * * *
It is of these dealings with the evil lord, and close association withone possessed, I seek cleansing. * * * Too often did I pass the namesof Rusbel, Ashtaroth, Beelzebub, Satan and others trippingly upon mytongue--may the Saints defend--to keep my lord's temper smooth, for Iverily believe he meant to slay me when my task was done.
It was for this I made my work long and tedious, that the acid I wasdaily using on my chains might have due season to eat them through, andI could be free.
* * * finished at length to his satisfaction, and slipped off throughthe night.
* * * * * *
Stated and subscribed in presence of Brothers Jehan and Hubert, on thisthe morrow of All Saints', in the year of grace one thousand sixhundred and forty-six.
MIGUEL SILICEO.
The Black Wolf's Breed Page 29
