Collected Works of Eugène Sue

by Eugène Sue

  The priestess seemed no wise disconcerted by my question, and answered with a somber mien:

  “I have shared my brother’s bed since the day that he violated me. It is the fate of almost all the sisters of the Frankish kings who follow them in war. Did I not tell you that their wives, their sisters and their mothers are the first slaves of the warriors? What female slave is there who, willingly or unwillingly, does not share her master’s bed?”

  “Hold your tongue, woman!” I cried interrupting her. “Hold your tongue! Your monstrous words might draw a thunderbolt upon our heads!”

  And without being able to add another word I contemplated the creature with horror. Such a mixture of debauchery, greed, barbarism and, withal, stupid frankness, seeing that Elwig unbosomed herself to me, a man whom she then saw for the first time in her life, upon her fratricidal intentions — that fratricide, preceded by incest, which this priestess of a sanguinary cult was subjected to and who shared her brother’s bed while she at the same time surrendered herself to another man — all that filled me with horror, notwithstanding I had often heard accounts of the abominable morals of the barbarians beyond the Rhine.

  Elwig seemed not to concern herself about the cause of my silence nor of the evident disgust that she filled me with. She mumbled some unintelligible words, and counted the copper bracelets that her arms were loaded with. She presently said to me pensively:

  “Do you think I shall have nine fine bracelets studded with precious stones to replace these? Could they all go into a little bag that I shall keep concealed under my robe when I return to the hut of the king, my brother? Why do you not answer my questions?”

  The cold, I should almost say naïve, ferocity of the woman redoubled the disgust that the monster inspired in me. Again I remained silent, and she cried aloud:

  “Why do you not answer me? You promised me the jewels!”

  But seeming to be suddenly struck by a new thought she added with terror:

  “I told him all! Suppose he tells it all again to Neroweg! My brother would kill us both, me and Riowag! The thought of the treasure bereft me of my senses!”

  And again she started to call, turning her face towards the cavern.

  A second old hag, no less hideous than the first, hobbled out holding in her hand the bone of an ox from which hung a partly boiled shred of meat at which she gnawed with her toothless gums.

  “Come quick to me,” the priestess said to her, “and leave your bone there.”

  The old hag obeyed unwillingly, grumbling like a dog whose meat is taken away from him. She laid the bone on one of the projecting rocks at the entrance of the grotto, and drew near, wiping her lips.

  “Gather some dry, good branches and roots of trees and kindle a fire with them under the brass caldron,” the priestess said to the old woman.

  The latter returned into the cavern, and brought out all the things that she was ordered. Soon a bright fire burned under the caldron.

  “Now,” Elwig said to the old woman, pointing her finger at me as I lay stretched out upon the earth at the feet of the statue of the subterranean deity, with my hands pinioned behind my back and my feet bound fast, “kneel down upon him.”

  I could make not the slightest motion. The old hag planted herself on her knees upon my breast-plate, and said to the priestess:

  “What must I do next?”

  “Make him put out his tongue.”

  I then understood that, carried away at first by her savage greed into making dangerous confidences to me, Elwig now reproached herself for having heedlessly mentioned her amours and her fratricidal intentions, and could think of no better way to compel my silence on these subjects towards her brother than to cut off my tongue. The project was more easily conceived than it could be executed. I clenched my teeth with all my might.

  “Tighten your fingers on his throat!” Elwig commanded the hag. “He will then open his mouth and stick his tongue out. I shall then cut it off.”

  With her knees firmly planted upon my cuirass, the hag leaned forward so close to me that her hideous face almost touched mine. I shut my eyes with disgust. Presently I felt the crooked yet nervous fingers of the priestess’ assistant tighten at my throat. For a while I struggled against suffocation and did not unlock my teeth; but, as Elwig had foreseen, I soon felt almost smothered and unconsciously opened my mouth. Elwig immediately thrust in her fingers in order to seize my tongue. I bit her so savagely that she withdrew her hand screaming with pain. At that moment I saw the black warriors and Riowag reissue from the wood whither they had withdrawn at the priestess’ orders. Riowag approached on a run, but he stopped undecided what to do at the sight of a troop of Franks who arrived from the opposite side and stepped into the clearing. One of these called out in a hoarse and imperious voice:

  “Elwig! Elwig!”

  “The king, my brother!” gasped the priestess, who was on her knees beside me.

  It seemed to me that she looked for the knife that she had dropped during her struggle with me.

  “Fear not! I shall be dumb. You shall have the treasure all for yourself,” I whispered to Elwig, fearing lest, in her terror, the woman plunge the knife into my throat. I sought to secure her support at all hazard, and to contrive a means of escape by inciting her cupidity.

  Whether Elwig trusted my word, or whether her brother’s presence stayed her hand, she cast a significant glance at me, and remained on her knees at my side, with her head drooping upon her chest as if absorbed in revery. The old hag having risen to her feet, my breast-plate was relieved of her weight; I could again breathe freely; and I saw the Terrible Eagle standing before me, escorted by several other Frankish kings, as the chiefs of those marauding hordes styled themselves.

  CHAPTER V.

  NEROWEG THE TERRIBLE EAGLE.

  THE FRANKISH CHIEF who stood before me was a man of colossal stature. Due to the use of lime-water, his beard as well as his greasy hair, that rose in a knot over his forehead, had turned coppery red. His hair, tied with a leather thong on the top of his head, fell behind his shoulders like the flowing crest of a casque. Above each of his bushy red eyebrows I saw an eagle’s talon tattooed in blue, while another scarlet tattoo mark, representing the undulations of a serpent, spanned his forehead. His left cheek was also ornamented with a red and blue tattoo that consisted of transverse rays. On his right cheek, however, the savage ornament disappeared almost wholly in the cavity of a deep scar that began below the eye and was finally lost under his shaggy beard. Heavy and coarsely-wrought gold medals, that hung from and distended his ears, dropped upon his shoulders. A heavy silver chain, wound three times around his neck, reached down to his semi-bare breast. Above his cloth tunic he wore a jacket of some animal’s hide. His hose, of the same quality and as soiled as his tunic, were fastened by a leather belt from which, on one side, hung a long sword, on the other an axe of sharp stone. Wide strips of tanned skin criss-crossed upward over his hose, from the ankle to the knees. He leaned upon a short pike that ended in a sharp point. The other kings who accompanied Neroweg were tattooed, clad and armed more or less after the same fashion. The features of all bore the stamp of savage gravity.

  Elwig, who remained on her knees at my side, sought to conceal her face from Neroweg. He rudely touched his sister’s shoulder with the point of his pike, and addressed her harshly:

  “Why did you send for me before boiling the Gallic dog for your auguries? My flayers have promised me his skin.”

  “The hour is not favorable,” answered the priestess abruptly with a mysterious air. “The hour of night — of dark night is preferable to sacrifice to the gods of the nether world. The Gaul, moreover, says, oh mighty king, that he has a message from Victoria and her son.”

  Neroweg drew nearer and looked at me. At first his mien was one of disdainful indifference; presently, however, as he examined me more attentively, his features assumed an expression of hatred and of triumphant rage; at last he cried as if he could not believe his own ey
es:

  “It is he! He is the horseman of the bay steed! It is himself!”

  “Do you know him?” Elwig asked her brother. “Do you know this prisoner?”

  “Off with you!” was Neroweg’s brusque answer. “Get you gone!”

  He then proceeded to contemplate me with renewed interest and repeated:

  “Yes, it is he; the horseman of the bay steed!”

  “Did you ever meet him in battle?” again asked Elwig. “Answer me. Do answer me!”

  “Will you be gone!” repeated Neroweg now raising his pike over the head of the priestess. “I told you before, be gone!”

  My eyes at that moment caught sight of the group of black warriors. I saw that their captain Riowag could hardly be restrained by his men from drawing his sword, and revenging the insult offered to Elwig by Neroweg.

  But so far from obeying her brother, and no doubt fearing that in her absence I might reveal to the Terrible Eagle both her own fratricidal projects and the secret of Victoria’s presents which she coveted, Elwig cried:

  “No! No! I remain here! The prisoner belongs to me for my auguries. I shall not go away. I shall keep him—”

  The only answer that Neroweg vouchsafed his sister were several blows with the handle of his pike, delivered over her back. He thereupon made a sign, and several of the warriors who accompanied him violently drove the priestess, together with the haggish old assistant, back into the cavern at the mouth of which they posted themselves on guard, sword in hand.

  The black warriors who surrounded Riowag were put to their mettle in order to prevent their captain from precipitating himself with drawn sword upon the Terrible Eagle. The latter, thinking only of me, failed to notice the fury of his rival, and addressed me in a voice trembling with rage, while he kicked me with his feet:

  “Do you recognize me, dog?”

  “I recognize you, rapacious wolf.”

  “This wound,” resumed Neroweg carrying his finger to the deep scar that furrowed his cheek, “do you know who made this wound?”

  “Yes, it is my handiwork. I fought you as a soldier.”

  “You lie! You fought me like a coward! You were two against one!”

  “You were making a furious onset on the son of Victoria the Great. He was wounded — his hand could hardly hold his sword — I dashed to his help — and struck in Gallic fashion.”

  “You marked my face with your Gallic sword — dog!”

  Saying this Neroweg struck me repeatedly with the handle of his pike, to the great amusement of the other kings.

  I remembered my ancestor Guilhern, chained like a slave and supporting with dignity the cruel treatment of the Romans after the battle of Vannes. I emulated his example. I merely said to Neroweg:

  “You are striking an unarmed soldier who is bound fast and who, relying upon the truce, came to you on an errand of peace — that is a coward’s act. You would not dare to raise your stick at me if I stood on my feet and sword in hand.”

  The Frankish chief laughed, struck me again and said:

  “He is a fool who, able to kill his enemy disarmed, does not exterminate him. I would like to kill you twice over. You are doubly my enemy. I hate you because you are a Gaul, I hate you because your race holds Gaul, the country of sunshine, of good wine and beautiful women; then also I hate you because you marked my face with a wound that is my eternal shame. I shall therefore make you suffer so much that your pain will be equal to two deaths, a thousand deaths, if I only could — you Gallic dog!”

  “The Gallic dog is a noble animal for war and for the hunt,” I replied to him; “the Frankish wolf, however, is an animal of rapine and carnage. But it will not be long before the brave Gallic dogs will have chased from their frontiers this pack of voracious wolves that have come prowling from the northern forests. Be careful! If you refuse to listen to the message that I have for you from Victoria and her valiant son — be careful! Our army is numerous. It will be a war to the death that will be waged between the Gallic dog and the Frankish wolf — a war of extermination — and the Frankish wolf will be devoured by the Gallic dog.”

  Grinding his teeth with rage, Neroweg seized the axe that hung from his belt, and raising it in both hands was about to let it come crashing down upon my head. I believed my last hour had come, but two of the other kings held the arm of Elwig’s brother, into whose ears they whispered a few words that seemed to calm him. He held a short conference with his companions and returned to me:

  “What is the message that you bring from Victoria for the Frankish kings?”

  “The messenger of Victorin and Victoria can only speak on his feet, unfettered, his head high — not stretched down on the ground, and bound fast like the ox that expects the butcher’s knife. Order my bonds to be removed, and I shall speak — if not, not. You have heard me, brute that you are!”

  “Speak on the spot — unconditionally, you Gallic dog! — or tremble before my anger!”

  “No; I shall not speak!”

  “I shall know how to make you speak!”

  “Try it! You will find me unshakeable!”

  Neroweg ordered one of the other kings to fetch a firebrand from under the brass caldron. I was held down by the shoulders and feet, so as to prevent me from making the slightest motion, while the Terrible Eagle placed the firebrand upon my iron cuirass and heaped up others about it. The brasier that he thus built upon my body seemed to amuse him greatly. He laughed out aloud and said to me:

  “You shall speak, or be broiled like a tortoise in its shell.”

  The iron of my cuirass soon began to heat under the coals which two of the Frankish kings kept alive by blowing upon them. I suffered greatly and cried:

  “Oh! Neroweg! Neroweg! Cowardly assassin! I would gladly endure these tortures, if I only could see myself once more sword in hand before you, and put my mark upon your other cheek. Oh! You have said it — there is room only for hatred and death between our two races!”

  “What is Victoria’s message?” the Terrible Eagle asked again.

  I remained silent, despite the intense pain that I suffered. The iron of my cuirass was growing hot all around.

  “Will you speak?” the Frankish chief cried anew, evidently astonished at my resistance.

  “Victoria’s messenger speaks erect and free,” I answered. “If not, not!”

  Whether the Frankish chief considered it desirable to know the message that I brought, or whether he only yielded to the suggestions of his companions, who were less ferocious than himself, one of them unbuckled my casque, raised it off my head, took it to the stream that rippled down the rocks at the mouth of the cavern, filled it and poured the cold water upon my heated cuirass. By degrees it cooled off.

  “Free him of his bonds,” said Neroweg, “but surround him; and let him instantly fall under your blows should he try to escape.”

  I slowly regained my strength while I was being unbound; the torture I had just undergone almost caused me to faint. I drank some of the water that remained in my casque, and stood up in the midst of the kings, who surrounded me so as to cut off my retreat.

  “Give us now your message,” said Neroweg.

  “A truce has been concluded between our two armies,” I proceeded. “Victoria and her son send to tell you: Since you issued from your northern forests you have taken possession of the whole territory of Germany on the right bank of the Rhine. That soil is as fertile as Gaul’s. Before your invasion it produced an abundance of everything. Your acts of violence and cruelty have driven almost all its inhabitants to flight. The soil, nevertheless, remains, ready and willing for the husbandman. Why do you not cultivate it, instead of waging incessant war against us and living on rapine? Is it the love for war that sways you? We Gauls, better than anyone else, understand and appreciate the love for martial display. We appreciate it, and make this proposition to you. At each new moon, send one or two thousand of your picked warriors to one of the large islands in the Rhine, which is our joint frontier. We shal
l expedite thither an equal number of our warriors. The two sets will be free to fight it out at their heart’s content. But then, at least, you Franks, on one side of the river, and we Gauls on the other shall be able to cultivate our respective fields in peace, we shall be able to work, to manufacture and to enrich our countries, without being forever compelled to keep an eye upon the frontier, and a sword hanging from the plow handle. If you refuse our proposition we shall then wage a war of extermination against you, drive you from our frontiers, and chase you back into your forests. When two nations are separated only by a river they should be friends, or one of the two must destroy the other. Choose! I await your answer.”

  Neroweg consulted with several of the kings who stood near him, and presently answered me with marked insolence:

  “The Frank is not one of those races, like the Gallic, who work by cultivating the soil. The Frank loves war; but above all he loves the warmth of the sun, good wine, fine weapons, brilliant clothes, gold and silver goblets, rich necklaces, large and well built cities, superb palaces after the fashion of the Romans, the beautiful Gallic women, industrious slaves who mind the whip and work for their masters while these drink, sing, sleep and make love or war. In their gloomy country of the north, however, the Franks find neither sunshine nor good wine, nor fine weapons, nor brilliant clothes, nor gold and silver goblets, nor large and well built cities, nor superb palaces, nor beautiful Gallic women — all these things are to be found among you, Gallic dogs! We purpose and mean to take all that from you — we purpose and mean to establish ourselves in your fertile country, and enjoy all the good things that it contains, while the males of you will work for us under the whip and the sharp sword that we shall hold over you, and the females — your wives, sisters and daughters — will lie in our beds, will weave our shirts and will wash our clothes. Do you understand, Gallic dog?”