King Eric and the Outlaws, Vol. 3

by Bernhard Severin Ingemann

  CHAP. IV.

  At night there were great rejoicings in Copenhagen. The king's presenceseemed to secure the peaceable part of the community against furtherdisturbance of the public tranquillity.

  The occurrences of the day had given satisfaction, and there was ageneral feeling of enthusiasm respecting the fortunate issue of theinsurrection. That which had been aimed at was attained. The shuttingof the churches was at an end, and the stern prelatical government ofthe town had been cowed. After this violent outbreak of the people'swrath, it was now hoped that no interdict would ever be carried intoeffect in Denmark. The report that the archbishop and the cardinal hadquitted Axelhuus, and that the archbishop was banished for life, wasspread throughout the whole town, ere midnight, and increased thegeneral rejoicing. Where the lights had been extinguished in thewindows after the king's departure, they were now re-lighted. Thearchbishop's flight and banishment were thus celebrated throughout thetown as an important victory over ecclesiastical tyranny, and as ahappy consequence of the public spirit of the burghers, and of theking's high courage. In the tavern near the Catsound, in the vicinityof St. Clement's church, sat the Drost's squire Canute, late at night,merrily carousing with a number of young Copenhageners, who had eagerlytaken part in the besieging of Axelhuus. In the midst of the group satan elderly burgher, with a full cup of mead in his hand drinking withthem, amid songs and bold scoffs, at the strict law which prohibitedlate tavern keeping and nightly intemperance, which they now regardedas a dead letter. It was the same personage who at noon hadperegrinated the town as an official authority, and who, as thesummoning herald of the council, had forbidden every one to bear armsin the streets. His herald's mantle, and the white staff bearing thebishop's arms, had been thrown under the drinking table; he nowappeared in the usual burgher's dress, and had himself a warlike swordat his side. From his talk it could be gathered that he had also joinedin the siege of Axelhuus.

  The carousers spoke openly and boldly against prelatical government, towhich they believed they had given a good fillip. They lauded the kingand the brisk Sir Helmer, and opined that the king had only feignedly,and for the sake of appearances, caused that brave knight to be placedunder arrest. They unanimously agreed, also, that the king's sternwords to the balista slingers, and those who were storming the castle,could not have come much further than from between his teeth, since,after all, it was but his worst foe they had attacked.

  There were bursts of exultation at the flight and exile of thearchbishop, which had been related to them by two newly-arrived guests,and the party took credit to themselves for having stoned Master Grandout of the country.

  "Ay, laud us Copenhageners!" said the herald, with a self-satisfiednod; "we have helped the king before at a pinch."

  "What can the pope and all the world's bishops do to him _now_?" saidthe squire, draining his cup. "The game is won, comrades, provided allwe Danes from this day forward act like you, brave Copenhageners ofthis town. Against those Latin curses we have arrows, swords, andbalista, and good Danish granite stone; and if they lock us up thechurch doors again, we have, the Lord be thanked, iron crows and axes,and men who can lift a church door as easy as a barrel of wheat. Now ismy master the Drost over in Sweden to fetch the king's betrothed," hecontinued; "had I been with him there the arrogant Hanse would not havepounced on me. Matters may go hard enough with the king's marriage;they say these priests would fain put a spoke in the wheel, and shutall Heaven's gates on us; but what shall we wager, comrades, that theking snaps his fingers at them, touching the dispension, or whatever itis called, and keeps his bridal, when the Lord and he himself pleases?Then will there be sport and jollity over all the country. Long livethe king's true love!"

  "But she is a Swede," objected one of the young fellows.

  "Pah! hereafter will Swede and Dane be good and boon companions,"continued Canute, with a jolly flourish of his cup. "When our kingsgive each other their sisters we will dance with the Swedish maidens,and their young fellows again with ours, and no one shall look sour onthe other, because we have tried our strength before in another sort ofgame. The Swedish princess, they say, is the fairest king's daughter inthe world, as fair and straight as a lily, and as pious and mild as theblessed Queen Dagmar. Long life to her, by my soul and honour, and toour excellent young king besides, and to all frank and free men, andall pretty maidens, both here and in Sweden's land! Hurra for the kingand his true love! He is a scoundrel who drinks not with me."

  All the jolly carousers joined in the toast; but the merriment in thetavern-room was now interrupted by the noise of an eager scuffle in thechamber above, where several guests of higher rank were playing atdraughts. The squire and his comrades crowded inquisitively to thedoor, and looked into the chamber. "Ay, indeed! my fat Rostocker here!"exclaimed Canute; "would he tweak the Copenhageners by the nose also? Ishould think he would come badly off at that game." He now related tohis companions what had happened at Skanoer fair--how the arroganttraders, who were now in the fray, had brought the false coin of theoutlaws into the country--and how the Rostocker, with his craftycomrade, had dared to threaten the king at Sjoeborg.

  "Let's have at him!" shouted all with one accord, and rushed into thechamber, where Berner Kopmand and Henrik Gullandsfar, with a crowd offoreign merchants and agents, were engaged in fierce dispute with twoof the richest burghers of the town, who accused them of dishonestplay, and of cheating with false money. The squire and his youngcomrades took the part of the Copenhageners, and a wild and bloodyfray, with pitchers and cans, sticks and clenched fists, sooncommenced. The Rostocker and Henrik Gullandsfar first drew theirswords; they laid about them with courage and valour. The pepper'prentices cried and shouted desperately, but were unable to defendthemselves with their long ell measures; at last they all took toflight, with Henrik Gullandsfar at their head. Berner Kopmand wouldhave followed them, but the incensed squire placed himself in his way,and forced him into a desperate encounter. "Out of the way, comrades!"he shouted; "leave me to deal alone with this fellow; I have a littlereckoning to settle with him!"

  All gave way, and formed a ring round the combatants; the heavy-builthot-headed Rostocker laid frantically about him, but was wounded everymoment by the man-at-arms, who, though far less in stature, was hissuperior in swordsmanship. "Take that for thy false money, good fellow,and that for thy false play, and that for thy shameless arrogance!"shouted the squire at every wound he gave his antagonist; "that becausethou wouldest hang Sir Helmer and me, and that because thou hastthreatened our king, thou grocer hero!" This last thrust ended thefight. The merchant fell mortally wounded to the ground, among theoverturned wine-flasks and draught-boards. Meanwhile the routed pepper'prentices had given the alarm in the streets, and, with a fearful cryof murder, assembled the night-watch, and as many of the provost's men,who, as yet, had sufficient courage to maintain order in the town. Thebishop's famulus had arrived with some men-at-arms, on the part of theprovost, and when Berner Kopmand fell the tavern of St. Clement's wasalready surrounded by a guard. The famulus made his way into the tavernwith his men, and surrounded the squire, who stood in silence with thebloody sword in his hand, gazing on the dying Rostocker.

  "Seize him! Shackle him! The godless murderer, in the name of thebishop and council!" cried the famulus, in a screeching voice,springing up on a bench to bring himself into notice. He was a littleman, clad in a short black cloak over a blue lay brother's dress, witha roll of parchment in his hand, which he flourished like a commander'sstaff. All the jolly revellers had retreated, and the Drost's squirestood alone by the Rostocker's body in the faint light of the oil-lamp,which was suspended from the roof. He menacingly brandished his bloodysword, and no one dared to approach him.

  "Let him go; he is guiltless!" cried a powerful but stuttering voice,and the burgher herald stepped forward half intoxicated, with glowingcheeks and reeling steps, from a corner of the apartment. He had againattired himself in his herald's mantle, and brandished the white
staffwith the bishop's arms in his hand. He elbowed his way through thecrowd, and placed himself, with solemn, official mien, between thesquire and the provost's men, directly opposite the little famulus onthe bench. "Let none touch this fellow; he is guiltless!" he continued:"the other drunken guest hath got his deserts; he has fallen, as wasmeet and fit in a regular tavern brawl, and at the dice-board; that _I_can witness--he is to get no chastisement, according to the law andright of our good city, that you must know full as well as I, MasterFamulus."

  "Believe him not, he is drunk!" cried the bishop's famulus witheagerness; "the ale speaks through him; he exercises his office, andexpounds law and justice like a toper and partizan. The law he pratesabout concerns but fisty-cuffs and pulling of hair; but a murder hathbeen committed within the town paling; it should at least be punishedwith perpetual imprisonment, according to the town law. Seize themurderer instantly, say I!"

  "Touch him not, say I," resumed the herald, "he hath slain a cheat, afalse player, a shameless scoundrel, who had defied the king; it wasdone in honourable fight; it was in self-defence,--that I saw myself;the fat Rostocker struck the first blow with a sharp weapon, althoughhe got the first cuff, but from an wholly unarmed fist; _that_ I cantake my oath of, let me be ever so drunk. He is a knave and a sorryChristian who gets not honestly drunk to-night, now that we have forcedthe shut gate of heaven. This brave young fellow is, besides, theDrost's squire, and my good friend. We have no right to imprison him, Iwill stand security for him, with all my substance!"

  "But what are ye thinking of?" bawled the famulus, stamping on thebench, "he hath certainly slain a man here."

  "Even so! naught else! Know ye not better our pious Lord Bishop'sorders! Master Famulus!" shouted the burgher herald in an overpoweringvoice, as he leaned on his staff of office. "_This_ is a worldly tavernand place of entertainment--_here_, where gaming, pastime, and topinghave full swing from morning to night--none hath a right to requiresafety for life and limb, it is all in due order; and a very wise andreasonable regulation; mad cats get torn skins, and where one setsaside the law, every one must take the damage as wages. The scoundrelwho lies there fell at the forbidden draught-board; if there is law andjustice in the town, he shall never be laid in christian ground. That Iwill uphold, as surely as I bear this sacred staff." As he, at theconclusion of his speech, was about again to brandish the herald'sstaff over his head, he had nearly lost his balance; but hisauthoritative conduct, and stern official deportment, seemed, however,not without its effect upon the provost's men, especially as thebishop's famulus was forced to allow the justice of his protest againstthe burial of the slain in christian ground.

  While they were yet disputing, whether they had or had not the right ofimprisoning the murderer, the squire rushed out of the door, with hisdrawn sword in his hand, and none dared to stop him.

  As soon as he found himself in the open air, he concealed his swordunder his mantle, slouched his hat over his brow, and mingled in thethrong which surrounded the house, and had thrust the guard aside. Itappeared, even to him, somewhat doubtful and improbable that personsmight thus be slain with perfect impunity at the gaming table; what hehad heard respecting perpetual imprisonment in the bishop's city, stillsounded very unpleasantly in his ear, and he thought it most advisableto decamp as soon as possible; but in order not to excite suspicion, hewalked on quietly, and whistled a blithe drinking song. "There'sdesperate work in the house between the pepper 'prentices and theking's men," he said aloud, "the devil take me if I stand here gapingany longer." As soon as he was fairly out of the crowd, he quickenedhis steps and hastened down past the Catsound towards the old strand.He went onward without knowing whither, and often looked behind to seewhether any one pursued him. He saw lights in all the houses on thestrand--mirth and song resounded, contrary to usage, in many quartersof the generally quiet town, in defiance of the strict regulations ofthe bishop and archbishop; but all was gloomy and still at Axelhuus. Hepursued his way along the level shore, and approached the church of St.Nicholas. In the churchyard he saw a crowd of people assembled. Astrange, half devout, half seditious murmur, was heard in the crowd,and a solemn council appeared to be held. He hastened past the sullenmuttering assemblage, and reached the ferry opposite Bremen-island.Here all the great warehouses were desolate and deserted; he sat downquite breathless on the quay to recover himself, and think of the meansof escape. It was past midnight. The moon shone upon the broad streamand the tall warehouses on Bremen island. He felt oppressed by thedeath-like stillness around him. The wild scene of the murder in thealehouse was now solemnly and fearfully present to his imagination--heheard his heart beat; he wiped the blood from off his sword, and put itinto the sheath. He perceived spots of blood upon his clothes, and wasabout to go down to the water to wash them out, but he now heard asound near him like the gasping of a dying man; he looked around himwith uneasiness, but no human being was to be seen. The singular soundstill fell on his ear, and mingled with his vivid recollection of thedeath-rattle of the slain Rostocker. He had felt no dread of the livingadversary,--now he shuddered at the thought of the dead. The hair ofthe fugitive squire stood on end; he hastily started off from the quay,and would have fled further; but he now distinctly heard that the soundwhich terrified him proceeded from the sea-shore. The faint ray of themoon now lit up the beach, on which he beheld a man lying stretched atfull length. "The pepper 'prentice! What became of him?"--he heard thevoice gasp forth, and recognised its tones. "Our Lady be merciful tous! Sir Helmer! what hath happened you?" exclaimed Canute, aghast, andhasted down to the half-expiring knight, who was utterly exhausted byfighting and swimming, and whom, with much difficulty, he raised on hislegs, and in some degree restored to consciousness. His drenchedclothes were rent and bloody; his long brown locks clung to his swollencheeks, and in his left hand, which was convulsively clenched, he helda thick tuft of reddish hair. "Look! look!" he said, "it was all I gothold of, the rest the devil hath taken. He twined round me like awater-snake. He bit and tore like the devil. The stream put an end toour embrace, it had well nigh put an end to my life, I perceive."

  "Our Lady and St. George help you, noble sir!" said the squire,crossing himself, as he reached him a small flask. "Take something tostrengthen your heart after that joust! If you have fought with theevil one at the bottom of the sea you have surely had to stand a hardencounter."

  "I hope it was the right one," said Helmer, and drained the flask,"Thanks, countryman! it hath helped me! Now I have got my strengthagain. I ail nothing in reality; my limbs are sound; I am but a littlebruised, and dizzy in my head."

  "But what in all the world have you been about? Have you been seekingthe pepper 'prentice, or Satan himself, at the bottom of the sea, andknow not rightly yourself whether you found him?"

  "I was hard pressed for time, thou must know. The king rode quietlypast the beach. I was somewhat wrath with him, I must needs confess. Iwas on the way to the bishop's dungeon, on account of my having takenthe balista a little in hand; but then I caught a sight of that devilof a pepper 'prentice; he stood not a yard from me in a boat, and wouldhave pushed past us; it seemed to me that he stared after the king, andfumbled with his hand in his breast, as if after a dagger. Whether itwas the right rascal or not, there was not time to discover. The fellowlooked confoundedly suspicious, and one pepper 'prentice, more or less,of what consequence was it, when the king's life was in question? so Ijumped into the boat. Ere I wast fully sensible of it I had the fellowby the throat, and had tumbled blithely with him into the stream."

  "Have you sent the pepper 'prentice down to his home, noble sir?" saidCanute with restored cheerfulness, and somewhat proudly,--"then I havesent a bottle-nosed Hanse grocer to hell, from an ale tavern. None cansay we have been idle here in Copenhagen. We serve the king as well aswe can--although we may have come a little out of the way he sent us.If you only have but hit on the right man! your exploit was far moredaring and dangerous than mine, noble sir! But in two particulars Ihave been more lucky, howev
er; I _know_ I hit on the right person, andknow also I mastered the rascal to some purpose. It was he who wouldhave hung us in the morning, and who would have taken the king's life,had he had power and courage to do so."

  "The Rostocker! Berner Kopmand?"

  "The same! He now lies dead as a herring, in the ale-house; he willnever be laid in Christian ground, if my honest friend the herald is inthe right. But come, sir!--if you can bestir yourself, let's get out ofthe bishop's town, and the sooner the better! If the provost or thebishop's men pounce on us, we shall not 'scape from their dungeons allour life-time."

  With some difficulty the wounded knight followed the squire, and theysoon reached the east gate at the end of East Street. The gate wasshut, but its lock and bolts had been forced in the insurrection. Thefugitives opened it without difficulty, and entered into the largegrass-grown marketplace, where the Halland vegetable vendors especiallyhad their landing-places and stalls. Meanwhile, Sir Helmer felt weakerat every step. With the help of the squire he dragged himself withdifficulty to the chapel by St. Anna's bridge; here he sank downpowerless before the chapel door;--all grew dark before his eyes, andhe was near falling into a swoon.

  "The Lord and St. Anna assist us!" said the squire, hastily seizing awooden bowl which stood near the chapel; he sprang with it to therunning stream under the bridge, and soon returned with the bowl fullof clear, pure water.

  "Drink, sir! drink in St. Anna's blessed name!" he said, eagerly, "andthen I will bathe you on the head, and on every part where you feelpain. If St. Anna's stream hath the wondrous healing power it is saidto have you will assuredly soon feel yourself strengthened, providedyou are a good Christian, as I surely hope."

  The knight drank, and washed the blood from his face, which, as well ashis neck, was scratched and lacerated; he was besides bruised all overhis body, and exhausted to a great degree. The cold water refreshed andstrengthened him, as he fancied, in a wonderful and incomprehensiblemanner. Around the chapel lay a number of crutches and rags, cast asideby the sick and paralytic who had here been healed. Inspired withsudden enthusiasm by his regained strength, and by the miracle hebelieved he had here experienced, Sir Helmer sprang up and knelt beforethe image of St. Anna over the chapel door. "Thanks and honour, holyAnna!" he exclaimed in a lowered voice, and with clasped hands, "it wasnobly done of thee; it was doubtless for the sake of my fair youngwife--for the sake of my Anna's pious prayers! When we meet again inhealth, we will assuredly not forget the wax lights and purple velvetfor thine altar." He then arose, and exulting in his strength, flappedhis arms around him, as if to certify himself of the fact of thisrestoration; he embraced the squire, and then flung him off to somedistance on the grass, with as much ease as he would have flung hisglove. "Look, there lies my crutch also, to thy thanks and honour, holyAnna!" he exclaimed in a loud voice, "he is a rascal who doubts of thywondrous power; thou hast given me strength and vigour again."

  "Ay, indeed! thanks and honour be to St. Anna for it!" panted thesquire, as he rose half in alarm. "You are now, by my troth, in fullvigour. Sir Helmer! as I can testify; but you are somewhat strange andviolent in your devotion; you must excuse my not continuing to lie hereamong the other crutches!"

  Helmer bounded blithely on the green sward, to try whether his legsalso stood him in good stead; he seemed again preparing to wrestle withthe squire, but Canute sprang aside. "Keep your devotion within bounds,noble sir! and listen to a word of sense!" he said, seizing theintractable knight by the arm. "A boat lies unmoored here, let's takepossession of it, and row up the great canal!--then perhaps we may slipwhole-skinned out of the town, and get to Sorretslov. If there is anyreasonableness whatever in the king, he will not cause us to be hanged,because we have chastised his enemies and persecutors; but if they gethold of us here he will find it hard, despite all his power, to saveus."

  "Had I but my good sword!"--said Helmer. "Lend me thine, briskcountryman! Do thou row the boat! and I will defend us both."

  "Yes, if you will be mannerly, Sir Knight, and not try your sword onme, in honour of St. Anna!"

  Helmer laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder. They were soon bothseated in the boat, and pondering how best to provide for their safety.Helmer sat sword in hand at the rudder, and the squire, despite thepain of his lacerated hand, rowed with powerful strokes of the oar upthe stream which enclosed the town on the north-east. They stopped notuntil they reached the fishermen's houses at Pustervig. Here thenorthern boundary of the town was protected by a new fortification ofpalisades. While the squire rested his wearied arms, they consultedtogether whether they should now row to the left, through the canal, toget out through the north gate, where, however, it was uncertainwhether they would not be stopped and seized,--or whether they mightnot with greater safety, although with more difficulty, pursue theirflight up the stream to Sorretslov lake. This last plan they consideredto be the most expedient. Helmer now seized the one oar, and they beganto row briskly forward. The night was calm, and during the wholepassage from St. Anna's bridge they had not seen a single human being.But an arrow from a cross-bow now suddenly whistled over the heads ofthe fugitives; they heard a splashing of oars behind them, and saw twoboats push off from the beach at Pustervig.

  "The murderer! stop him, shoot him! a hundred silver crowns to the manwho seizes him!" called a loud voice from one of the boats.

  Helmer and the squire recognised the voice of Henrik Gullandsfar, andkept on rowing. The one boat lay to behind them to stop the way in casethey should retreat. The other, which was manned with the provost'smen, and was steered by Henrik Gullandsfar himself, pursued them withfour oars up the river. In the bow stood two cross-bowmen, whoconstantly aimed and shot, but as it appeared without real skill in themanagement of this dangerous weapon, with which the strongest armourmight be pierced, and people wounded almost without perceiving it.

  "You shoot badly, knaves!" shouted Helmer. "Is that the way to hold across-bow? Come but nearer, and I will teach ye to handle it!" hecontinued, letting go the oar and brandishing his sword over hisuncovered head, as he stood in the stern of the boat. "As surely as St.Anna hath given me my strength again, it shall not fare a hair betterwith ye than with my departed brothers-in-law." Another cross-bow boltwhistled over his head, but without injuring a hair of it--anothersplit the gunwale and broke the tiller. Helmer seized the harmlessbolt, and just as he was about to be overtaken, flung it back with allhis might whence it came. It whistled past both the cross-bowmen, buthit Henrik Gullandsfar on the forehead, and the merchant fell backwardswithout life sufficient to utter a cry.

  "Death and misfortune! 'Twas Helmer Blaa who threw!" cried one of theprovost's men. "The devil a bit will I fight with _him_.--Let's beoff!"

  The provost's men and the cross-bow shooters now took to flight downthe stream with the body of Gullandsfar. Sir Helmer again seized theone oar, and the two bold fugitives rowed unmolested up to Sorretslovlake. Here they sprang ashore on the green sward, leaving the boat tofloat back with the current.

  "We have got thus far on dry land," said Helmer, looking around him;"we are without the town paling, and are scarce a hundred paces distantfrom the king's castle. When the king hears of our exploits, perhaps hewill say, it was bravely done, but will cause us to be bound and throwninto the tower, according to strict law, and there we may be sufferedto lie until his council and the bishops are agreed whether we are tobe punished with death or only with imprisonment for life."

  "Would you scare me, Sir Helmer?" exclaimed Canute, in dismay. "As soonas we reach the king's castle yonder, we surely stand under the king'sprotection."

  "But here he is on the bishop's preserve as well as we. We haveforgotten that in our hurry," observed Helmer; "the sixteen villages inthis neighbourhood belong to the little Roskild bishop. Bishop law andchurch law are valid here; and this I know beforehand, the king willnot swerve a hair's-breadth from what is lawful for _our_ sake, eventhough we were his best friends, and had saved his life an hundredtimes over."

 
; "Death and confusion! What shall we do then? In that case we were madshould we take refuge with him here?"

  "So I think, countryman! But help us he _shall_, whether he will it orno. Knowest thou the two white horses here in the meadow? Look! howthey dance in the tether and snort towards the dawn."

  "The king's tournament prancers!--the very apple of his eye! Everyknights' squire knows _them_. You have surely not lost your wits, SirHelmer! What would you be at?"

  "Thou shalt soon see," said Helmer, approaching the starting andrearing steeds. "So! ho! old fellows! stand still!--if we have riskedour lives for the king, he can doubtless lend us a pair of horses. HadI my good Arab it should fly with us both faster than the wind. Thepepper 'prentice I answer for," he continued, still enticing thehorses. "I have soused and pumelled him so soundly, that he will do nomischief again in a hurry, if there is life in him yet--and I darewager my head it was the right one. If thou hast made an end of BernerKopmand, countryman, I answer for Henrik Gullandsfar, and thearchbishop hath gone to the devil; there is now no great danger astir,and the king needs us no longer here. I am no great lover of trial andimprisonment, seest thou? and if the king does not need my life, I knowof one who will give me a kiss for saving it.--So ho, there! That'sright, my lad!--a noble animal, by my soul! I desert not from theservice to run home to my young wife,--that none shall say of me. Dothou like me, countryman! I will now ride on the king's prancer as hisbridesman to Sweden, to perform what I have neglected. If thou wiltcome with me, come then!" Meanwhile Helmer had caught one of thespirited steeds. In an instant he was upon its back, and galloped awayover hedge and ditch with the swiftness of a deer. The Drost's squiredid not long hesitate; he was soon seated on the back of the other, andfollowed Sir Helmer at a brisk gallop.