The Dove in the Eagle's Nest
Page 20
CHAPTER XVIIIFRIEDMUND IN THE CLOUDS
THE stone was quarried high on the mountain, and a direct road was madefor bringing it down to the water-side. The castle profited by the roadin accessibility, but its impregnability was so far lessened. However,as Ebbo said, it was to be a friendly harbour, instead of a robber crag,and in case of need the communication could easily be destroyed. Theblocks of stone were brought down, and wooden sheds were erected for theworkmen in the meadow.
In August, however, came tidings that, after two amputations of hisdiseased limb, the Kaisar Friedrich III. had died—it was said from overfree use of melons in the fever consequent on the operation. His deathwas not likely to make much change in the government, which had of latebeen left to his son. At this time the King of the Romans (for the titleof Kaisar was conferred only by coronation by the Pope, and thisMaximilian never received) was at Innspruck collecting troops for thedeliverance of Styria and Carinthia from a horde of invading Turks. TheMarkgraf of Wurtemburg sent an intimation to all the Swabian League thatthe new sovereign would be best pleased if their homage were paid to himin his camp at the head of their armed retainers.
Here was the way of enterprise and honour open at last, and the youngbarons of Adlerstein eagerly prepared for it, equipping their vassals andsending to Ulm to take three or four men-at-arms into their pay, so as tomake up twenty lances as the contingent of Adlerstein. It was decidedthat Christina should spend the time of their absence at Ulm, whither hersons would escort her on their way to the camp. The last busy day wasover, and in the summer evening Christina was sitting on the castle stepslistening to Ebbo’s eager talk of his plans of interesting his hero, theKing of the Romans, in his bridge, and obtaining full recognition of hisclaim to the Debateable Strand, where the busy workmen could be seen farbelow.
Presently Ebbo, as usual when left to himself, grew restless for want ofFriedel, and exclaiming, “The musing fit is on him!—he will stay allnight at the tarn if I fetch him not,” he set off in quest of him,passing through the hamlet to look for him in the chapel on his way.
Not finding Friedel there, he was, however, some way up towards the tarn,when he met his brother wearing the beamy yet awestruck look that heoften brought from the mountain height, yet with a steadfast expressionof resolute purpose on his face.
“Ah, dreamer!” said Ebbo, “I knew where to seek thee! Ever in theclouds!”
“Yes, I have been to the tarn,” said Friedel, throwing his arm round hisbrother’s neck in their boyish fashion. “It has been very dear to me,and I longed to see its gray depths once more.”
“Once! Yea manifold times shalt thou see them,” said Ebbo.“Schleiermacher tells me that these are no Janissaries, but a meremiscreant horde, even by whom glory can scarce be gained, and no peril atall.”
“I know not,” said Friedel, “but it is to me as if I were taking my leaveof all these purple hollows and heaven-lighted peaks cleaving the sky.All the more, Ebbo, since I have made up my mind to a resolution.”
“Nay, none of the old monkish fancies,” cried Ebbo, “against them thouart sworn, so long as I am true knight.”
“No, it is not the monkish fancy, but I am convinced that it is my dutyto strive to ascertain my father’s fate. Hold, I say not that it isthine. Thou hast thy charge here—”
“Looking for a dead man,” growled Ebbo; “a proper quest!”
“Not so,” returned Friedel. “At the camp it will surely be possible tolearn, through either Schlangenwald or his men, how it went with myfather. Men say that his surviving son, the Teutonic knight, is of verydifferent mould. He might bring something to light. Were it proved tobe as the Schneiderlein avers, then would our conscience be at rest; but,if he were in Schlangenwald’s dungeon—”
“Folly! Impossible!”
“Yet men have pined eighteen years in dark vaults,” said Friedel; “and,when I think that so may he have wasted for the whole of our lives thathave been so free and joyous on his own mountain, it irks me to bound onthe heather or gaze at the stars.”
“If the serpent hath dared,” cried Ebbo, “though it is mere folly tothink of it, we would summon the League and have his castle about hisears! Not that I believe it.”
“Scarce do I,” said Friedel; “but there haunts me evermore thedescription of the kindly German chained between the decks of theCorsair’s galley. Once and again have I dreamt thereof. And, Ebbo,recollect the prediction that so fretted thee. Might not yondark-cheeked woman have had some knowledge of the East and its captives?”
Ebbo started, but resumed his former tone. “So thou wouldst begin thineerrantry like Sir Hildebert and Sir Hildebrand in the ‘Rose garden’?Have a care. Such quests end in mortal conflict between the unknownfather and son.”
“I should know him,” said Friedel, enthusiastically, “or, at least, hewould know my mother’s son in me; and, could I no otherwise ransom him, Iwould ply the oar in his stead.”
“A fine exchange for my mother and me,” gloomily laughed Ebbo, “to losethee, my sublimated self, for a rude, savage lord, who would straightwayundo all our work, and rate and misuse our sweet mother for being morecivilized than himself.”
“Shame, Ebbo!” cried Friedel, “or art thou but in jest?”
“So far in jest that thou wilt never go, puissant Sir Hildebert,”returned Ebbo, drawing him closer. “Thou wilt learn—as I also trust todo—in what nameless hole the serpent hid his remains. Then shall they beduly coffined and blazoned. All the monks in the cloisters for twentymiles round shall sing requiems, and thou and I will walk bareheaded,with candles in our hands, by the bier, till we rest him in the BlessedFriedmund’s chapel; and there Lucas Handlein shall carve his tomb, andthou shalt sit for the likeness.”
“So may it end,” said Friedel, “but either I will know him dead, orendeavour somewhat in his behalf. And that the need is real, as well asthe purpose blessed, I have become the more certain, for, Ebbo, as I roseto descend the hill, I saw on the cloud our patron’s very form—I sawmyself kneel before him and receive his blessing.”
Ebbo burst out laughing. “Now know I that it is indeed as saithSchleiermacher,” he said, “and that these phantoms of the BlessedFriedmund are but shadows cast by the sun on the vapours of the ravine.See, Friedel, I had gone to seek thee at the chapel, and meeting FatherNorbert, I bent my knee, that I might take his farewell blessing. I hadthe substance, thou the shadow, thou dreamer!”
Friedel was as much mortified for the moment as his gentle nature couldbe. Then he resumed his sweet smile, saying, “Be it so! I have oft readthat men are too prone to take visions and special providences tothemselves, and now I have proved the truth of the saying.”
“And,” said Ebbo, “thou seest thy purpose is as baseless as thy vision?”
“No, Ebbo. It grieves me to differ from thee, but my resolve is olderthan the fancy, and may not be shaken because I was vain enough tobelieve that the Blessed Friedmund could stoop to bless me.”
“Ha!” shouted Ebbo, glad to see an object on which to vent his secretannoyance. “Who goes there, skulking round the rocks? Here, rogue, whatart after here?”
“No harm,” sullenly replied a half-clad boy.
“Whence art thou? From Schlangenwald, to spy what more we can be robbedof? The lash—”
“Hold,” interposed Friedel. “Perchance the poor lad had no evilpurposes. Didst lose thy way?”
“No, sir, my mother sent me.”
“I thought so,” cried Ebbo. “This comes of sparing the nest of thanklessadders!”
“Nay,” said Friedel, “mayhap it is because they are not thankless thatthe poor fellow is here.”
“Sir,” said the boy, coming nearer, “I will tell _you_—_you_ I willtell—not him who threatens. Mother said you spared our huts, and thelady gave us bread when we came to the castle gate in winter, and shewould not see the reiters lay waste your folk’s doings down there withoutwarning you.”
“My
good lad! What saidst thou?” cried Ebbo, but the boy seemed dumbbefore him, and Friedel repeated the question ere he answered: “All thelanzknechts and reiters are at the castle, and the Herr Graf has takenall my father’s young sheep for them, a plague upon him. And our folkare warned to be at the muster rock to-morrow morn, each with a bundle ofstraw and a pine brand; and Black Berend heard the body squire say theHerr Graf had sworn not to go to the wars till every stick at the ford beburnt, every stone drowned, every workman hung.”
Ebbo, in a transport of indignation and gratitude, thrust his hand intohis pouch, and threw the boy a handful of groschen, while Friedel gavewarm thanks, in the utmost haste, ere both brothers sprang with headlongspeed down the wild path, to take advantage of the timely intelligence.
The little council of war was speedily assembled, consisting of thebarons, their mother, Master Moritz Schleiermacher, Heinz, and Hatto. Tobring up to the castle the workmen, their families, and the more valuableimplements, was at once decided; and Christina asked whether there wouldbe anything left worth defending, and whether the Schlangenwalden mightnot expend their fury on the scaffold, which could be newly supplied fromthe forest, the huts, which could be quickly restored, and the stones,which could hardly be damaged. The enemy must proceed to the camp in aday or two, and the building would be less assailable by their return;and, besides, it was scarcely lawful to enter on a private war when theimperial banner was in the field.
“Craving your pardon, gracious lady,” said the architect, “that blamerests with him who provokes the war. See, lord baron, there is time tosend to Ulm, where the two guilds, our allies, will at once equip theirtrained bands and despatch them. We meanwhile will hold the knaves incheck, and, by the time our burghers come up, the snake brood will havehad such a lesson as they will not soon forget. Said I well, HerrFreiherr?”
“Right bravely,” said Ebbo. “It consorts not with our honour or rights,with my pledges to Ulm, or the fame of my house, to shut ourselves up andsee the rogues work their will scatheless. My own score of men, besidesthe stouter masons, carpenters, and serfs, will be fully enough to makethe old serpent of the wood rue the day, even without the aid of theburghers. Not a word against it, dearest mother. None is so wise asthou in matters of peace, but honour is here concerned.”
“My question is,” persevered the mother, “whether honour be not betterserved by obeying the summons of the king against the infidel, with themen thou hast called together at his behest? Let the count do his worst;he gives thee legal ground of complaint to lay before the king and theLeague, and all may there be more firmly established.”
“That were admirable counsel, lady,” said Schleiermacher, “well suited tothe honour-worthy guildmaster Sorel, and to our justice-loving city; but,in matters of baronial rights and aggressions, king and League are wontto help those that help themselves, and those that are over nice as tolaw and justice come by the worst.”
“Not the worst in the long run,” said Friedel.
“Thine unearthly code will not serve us here, Friedel mine,” returned hisbrother. “Did I not defend the work I have begun, I should be branded asa weak fool. Nor will I see the foes of my house insult me withoutstriking a fair stroke. Hap what hap, the Debateable Ford shall bedebated! Call in the serfs, Hatto, and arm them. Mother, order a goodsupper for them. Master Moritz, let us summon thy masons and carpenters,and see who is a good man with his hands among them.”
Christina saw that remonstrance was vain. The days of peril and violencewere coming back again; and all she could take comfort in was, that, ifnot wholly right, her son was far from wholly wrong, and that with a freeheart she could pray for a blessing on him and on his arms.