The Abbatial Crosier; or, Bonaik and Septimine. A Tale of a Medieval Abbess
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CHAPTER II.
ABD-EL-KADER AND ROSEN-AER.
Abd-el-Kader, one of the bravest chiefs of the warriors of Abd-el-Rhamanduring the life of this emir, who was killed five years before on thefield of Poitiers where he delivered a great battle to Charles Martel(the Hammer)--Abd-el-Kader, after ravaging and pillaging the country andthe churches of Tours and of Blois, occupied one of the handsomestdwellings in Narbonne. He had the house arranged in Orientalfashion--the outside windows were closed up, and laurels were planted inthe inner courtyard, from the center of which a fountain jetted itssteady stream. His harem occupied one of the wings of the house. In oneof the chambers of this harem, covered with rich carpets of gay colors,furnished with silk divans, and lighted by a window with gilded bars,sat a woman of rare beauty, although about forty years of age. It waseasy to recognize by the whiteness of her skin, the blondness of herhair and the blue of her eyes that she was not of Arabian stock. Herpale and sad face revealed a settled and profound sorrow. The curtainthat covered the door of the chamber was pushed aside and Abd-el-Kaderentered. The swarthy-complexioned warrior was about fifty years of age;his beard and moustache were grizzled; his face, calm and grave,expressed dignity and mildness. He stepped slowly towards the woman andsaid to her: "Rosen-Aer, we meet to-day for the last time, perhaps."
The Gallic matron seemed surprised and replied: "If I am not to see youagain, I still shall remember you. I am your slave, but you have beenkind and generous to me. I shall never forget that six years ago, whenthe Arabians invaded Burgundy and raided the valley of Charolles, wheremy family lived in happiness for more than a century, you respected mewhen I was taken to your tent. I declared to you then that at the firstact of violence on your part, I would kill myself ... you ever treatedme as a free woman--"
"Mercy is the badge of the believer. I only obeyed the voice of theprophet. But you, Rosen-Aer, did you not, shortly after you were broughthere a prisoner and Ibraham, my youngest son, was nearly dying, did younot ask to take care of him the same as a mother would? Did you notwatch at his bedside during the long nights of his illness as if he wereyour own son? It was, accordingly, in recompense for your services, aswell as in obedience to the behest of the Koran--_deliver your brothersfrom bondage_--that I offered you your freedom."
"What else could I have done with my freedom? I am all alone in theworld.... I saw my brother and husband killed under my own eyes in adesperate fight with your soldiers when they invaded the valley ofCharolles; and before those days I wept my son Amael, who haddisappeared six years before. I wept him then, as I do still every day,inconsolable at his absence."
Rosen-Aer spoke these words and could not keep back the tears thatwelled in her eyes and inundated her face. Abd-el-Kader looked at hersadly and replied: "Your motherly sorrow has often touched me. I canneither console you, nor give you hope. How could your son now be found,seeing he disappeared when barely fifteen years of age! It is a questionwhether he still lives."
"He would now be twenty-five; but," added Rosen-Aer drying her tears,"let us not now talk of my son; I am afraid he is lost to meforever.... But why say you that we see each other to-day, perhaps, forthe last time?"
"Charles Martel, the chief of the Franks, is advancing with forcedmarches at the head of a formidable army to drive us out of Gaul. I wasnotified yesterday of his approach. Within two days, perhaps, the Frankswill be upon the walls of Narbonne. Abd-el-Malek, our new emir, is ofthe opinion that our troops should go out and meet Charles.... We areabout to depart. The battle will be bloody. God may wish to send medeath. That is why I came to tell you we may never meet again.... If Godshould will it so, what will become of you?"
"You have several times generously offered me freedom, money and a guideto travel through Gaul and look for my child. But I lacked the courageand strength, or rather my reason told me how insane such an undertakingwould be in the midst of the civil wars that are desolating our unhappycountry. If I am not to see you again and I must leave this house, whereat least I have been able to weep in peace, free from the shame and thetrials of slavery, there will be nothing left to me but to die."
"I do not like to see you despair, Rosen-Aer. This is my plan for you.During my absence you shall leave Narbonne. My forces are to take thefield against the Franks; my army is brave, but the will of God isimmovable. If it be his pleasure that victory fall to Charles and thatthe Franks prevail over the Crescent, they may lay siege to this townand take it. In that event you and all its inhabitants will be exposedto the fate of people in a place carried by assault--death or slavery.It is with an eye to withdrawing you from so sad a fate that I wouldinduce you to leave the town, and to take temporary shelter in one ofthe Gallic colonies nearby that cultivate my fields."
"Your fields!" exclaimed Rosen-Aer with bitterness; "you should rathersay the fields that your soldiers seized by force and rapine, theinseparable companions of conquest."
"Such was the will of God."
"Oh, for the sake of your race and of yourself, Abd-el-Kader, I hope thewill of God may save you the pain of some day seeing the fields of yourfathers at the mercy of conquerors!"
"God ordains ... Man submits. If God decrees against Charles Martel atthe approaching battle and we are victorious, you can return here toNarbonne; if we are vanquished, if I am killed in the battle, if we aredriven out of Gaul, you shall have nothing to fear in the retreat that Iam providing for you. You can remain with the family of my servant. Hereis a little purse with enough gold pieces to supply your wants."
"I shall remember you, Abd-el-Kader, as a generous man, despite thewrong your race has done mine."
"God sent us hither to cause the religion preached by Mahomet totriumph, the only true religion. May his name be glorified."
"But the Christian bishops, priests and monks also pretend that theirreligion is the only true one."
"Let them prove it ... we leave them free to preach their belief. Barelya century since its foundation, the Musselman faith has subjugated theOrient almost entirely, Spain and a portion of Gaul. We are instrumentsof the divine will. If God has decided that I shall die in theapproaching battle, then we shall not meet again. Should I die and yetour arms triumph, my sons, if they survive me, will take care of you....Ibraham venerates you as his own mother."
"Do you take Ibraham to battle?"
"The youth who can manage a steed and hold a sword is of battle age....Do you accept my offer, Rosen-Aer?"
"Yes; I tremble at the very thought of falling into the hands of theFranks! Sad days these are for us. We have only the choice ofservitudes. Happy, at least, are those who, like myself, meet amongtheir masters compassionate hearts."
"Make yourself ready.... I myself shall depart in an hour at the head ofa part of my troops. I shall come for you. We shall leave the housetogether; you to proceed to the colonist who occupies my country house,and I to march against the Frankish army."
When Abd-el-Kader returned for Rosen-Aer, he had donned his battlecostume. He wore a brilliant steel cuirass, and a red turban wrappedaround his gilded casque. A scimitar of marvelous workmanship hung fromhis belt; its sheath as well as its handle of massive gold wasornamented with arabesques of corals and diamonds. The Arab warrior saidto Rosen-Aer with suppressed emotion: "Allow me to embrace you as adaughter."
Rosen-Aer gave Abd-el-Kader her forehead, saying: "I pray that yourchildren may long retain their father."
The Arab and the Gallic woman left the harem together. Outside they metthe five sons of the chief--Abd-Allah, Hasam, Abul-Casem, Mahomet andIbraham, the youngest, all in full armor, on horseback and carrying overtheir arms long and light white woolen cloaks with black tufts. Theyoungest of the family, a lad of barely fifteen, alighted from his horsewhen he saw Rosen-Aer, took her hand, kissed it respectfully and said:"You have been a mother to me; before departing for battle I greet youas a son."
The Gallic woman thought of her son Amael, who also was fifteen yearswhen he departed from the valley of Charolles, and answered the
youngman: "May God protect you, you who are now to incur the risk of war forthe first time!"
"'Believers, when you march upon the enemy, be unshakable,' says theprophet," the lad replied with mild yet grave voice. "We are going todeliver battle to the infidel Franks. I shall fight bravely under theeyes of my father.... God alone disposes of our lives. His will bedone."
Once more kissing the hand of Rosen-Aer, the young Arab helped her mounther mule that was led by a black slave. From the distance the martialbray of the Saracen clarions was heard. Abd-el-Kader waved his lastadieu to Rosen-Aer, and the Arab, with whom age had not weakened themartial ardor of younger years, leaped upon his horse and galloped off,followed by his five sons. For a few moments longer the Gallic womanfollowed with her eyes the long white cloaks that the rapid course ofthe Arab and his five children raised to the wind. When they haddisappeared in a cloud of dust at a turning of the street, Rosen-Aerordered the black slave to lead the mule towards the main gate of thetown in order to ride out and reach the colonist's house.
PART I.
THE CONVENT OF ST. SATURNINE