Читать книгу 21 MYSTERY & ROMANCE NOVELS - Robert Barr - Страница 54

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The sun rose and set, and rose and set again, before news came to Castle Thuron. There was no sign of an enemy; the Moselle valley, as seen from the round towers, seemed a very picture of peace. During these two days the air was still, the flag drooped, unfluttering, from its staff, and the sun shone warmly in the serene heavens. Yet there was something ominous in the silence, and each person in the castle felt, more or less, the tension of the time. Black Heinrich scanned the distance from the battlements with growing impatience, for, like all men of action, he chafed at the delay and was eager for the fight to come on, even should it prove disastrous to him. Anything seemed better than this newsless waiting. The huge gates were never opened; in fact, it was now impossible to open them, for the outer courtyard was partly filled with sacks of grain and butts of wine, which were piled in a great heap against the two leaves of the gate, and any one desiring to depart from the castle had to climb down from the platform over the gates by a ladder resting there, which could be pulled up at any moment's notice. The two days were a most enjoyable interval for Rodolph, who spent much of his time, in ever increasing delight, with the Countess Tekla. Yet there was an alloy in his happiness. He felt that he was not wise in lingering in Thuron, which at any moment might prove a trap from which escape was impossible, either through the Count learning who he actually was, and thereupon imprisoning him to make the most of his detention, or through the sudden beleaguering of the castle by forces from Treves. His confidence that Conrad would reach his friend in the house by the city wall quieted his conscience, which with some persistence was telling him that he neglected duty and high affairs of state, all for the sake of spending the golden hours with a fascinating girl of nineteen.

But these qualms left him when in her presence, and as he spent much of his time with her, there was little chance for his conscience to work a reformation. He consoled himself with the reflection that a man can be young but once, and there was probably a long life before him which he could energetically devote to the service of his country. He knew that Baron von Brunfels would carry out faithfully his instructions in Frankfort, and if the Emperor's presence became necessary there, he would bring on a force that neither the Archbishop nor Black Heinrich could cope with, did either attempt to detain him against his will. He had unlimited faith in Brunfels' judgment, and thus he lulled disquieting thought. Nevertheless he knew that his place was at Frankfort and not in Thuron, where, if the turbulent Archbishop moved an armed man without his sovereign's consent, that sovereign could emerge from the capital at the head of the German army and bid the haughty prelate back to Treves; yet prudence told him such a course might plunge the country into civil war, for he knew not the exact military strength of the Archbishop, and was well aware that his own army should be considerably augmented before it undertook so hazardous a commission, for nothing short of overwhelming force might overawe the fighting Lord of Treves. In truth it was to see for himself what manner of man the Archbishop was, and to form some estimate of the forces at his back, that the secret journey to Treves had been taken, now so strangely deflected from its original purpose. Both the Emperor and von Brunfels believed that the present strength of the army at Frankfort was not sufficient to cope with the battalions of Treves, especially if the Archbishops of Cologne and Mayence made common cause with their brother in the West—an eventuality not at all improbable. The first step then, should be the return of the Emperor to his capital, to be followed by a quiet increase of the imperial army until it reached such strength that no combination could prevail against it. Rodolph knew his duty, yet silken fetters held him from action. Had he been certain of the sentiments of Tekla regarding himself he would have spoken to her, without revealing his identity, and then might perhaps have made arrangement with her uncle by which he could proceed to Frankfort, but although the events of a lifetime had been compressed within the last week, yet he could not conceal from himself the fact that the Countess had known him for three or four days only, and he felt that to speak to her at the present moment would be premature. Of course it was quite within his right to assume his place at the head of the state once more, and demand the lady, in which case neither her guardian nor the Count would dare refuse, nor would one of them be the least likely to refuse, for Black Heinrich was not the man to underestimate the qualification of relationship with an Empress. But the Emperor was in no mind to follow the example of Count Bertrich, and accept an unwilling wife.

He set before himself the enticing task of winning the lady as a nameless lord, letting her imagine that he was perhaps not her equal in station or fortune, and then, when consent had been willingly gained, to demand her from his throne, allowing himself to dwell with pleasure on her amazement at learning that her Emperor and her lover were one and the same person.

But there was savage news in store for him, and for all within Castle Thuron; news that made his rosy dreams dissolve as the light river mists dissolve before the fierce midsummer sun. On the evening of the third day after Conrad's departure, an unkempt, tattered figure staggered from the forest and came tottering towards the gate of the castle. The archer, on duty above the gate, drew string to ear and ordered the fugitive to halt and explain himself. The forlorn man raised his hands above his head, gave a despairing upward look, took two faltering steps forward and fell prone on his face, as the bowman relaxing his weapon, and peering eagerly forward, cried aloud:

"My God, it is Conrad!"

Then instantly forgetting his duty as guardian of the gate, he dropped bow and sprang down the ladder, running to his fallen comrade. The news spread through the castle with marvellous rapidity, and the Black Count and Rodolph were on the battlements above the gate before the archer and some of the garrison had hoisted the insensible man up the ladder.

"Take him to the great hall; he is wounded and seems famished as well. Perhaps a cup of wine will revive him; meanwhile keep strict watch on the gate; those who have pursued him cannot be far distant. Draw up the ladder and man the battlements, Steinmetz."

The Captain at once gave the necessary commands, while those who had rescued Conrad carried him to the great hall and laid him on a bench. His clothes were in rags, and his face gaunt from fatigue or want. As Heinrich had suggested, a cup of wine held to his lips revived him, and, opening his eyes, he glanced at Rodolph and gasped:

"We are completely surrounded, my Lord."

"Impossible!" cried Rodolph. "The Archbishop could never have moved his troops so quickly."

The Black Count said nothing, but scowled down on the wounded man, whose garments the leech was removing in order to apply ointment to wounds evidently caused by shafts from the crossbow. John Surrey looked on these wounds with a lofty contempt, muttering:

"If I had drawn string at him there would be fewer hurts, but he would not be here to tell what happened."

Conrad drank a full flagon of wine, which revived him sufficiently to enable him to tell his adventures. He had directed his horse towards the Roman road between Frankfort and Treves, but on approaching it saw troops. Turning back he proceeded further west, but came again upon armed men. In neither case was he himself seen. Retracing his way, he tried to pass to the west, nearer to the river, but there also he found an encampment. Surmising now that the wide space between the Roman road and the Moselle was in the Archbishop's hands, and that there was no chance of penetrating towards Treves in that direction, he resolved to make for Frankfort itself, get to the south of the Roman road, and reach Treves round about, through the great forest. To his amazement here also he saw portions of the army, and it began to dawn upon him that the castle was environed, at least on the south. He now determined to make no more attempts to break the circle, but return to Thuron and report the alarming situation he had discovered. In journeying through the forest towards the castle he came unexpectedly upon a camp, and there, for the first time, was seen by the enemy. He tried flight, but a crossbow bolt brought down his horse and resulted in his capture. It never occurred to those who held him prisoner, that he had come from Thuron; in fact they readily believed he was, what his passport proclaimed him, a merchant from Frankfort who was trying to reach Treves. They assured him that such a journey was impossible at the present moment, but said he could get through unmolested when the troops had drawn closer round Thuron. They kept him merely a nominal prisoner, paid little attention to him, and talked freely before him, having no suspicion that he belonged to the castle. Nothing was said of the flight of the Countess Tekla, and he surmised from this that her sudden departure was unknown. It was believed that the investment of Thuron had been projected for a long time, and that the Archbishop had struck thus suddenly to take the Black Count unaware. From the fact that the troops had been sent along the Roman road in detachments, Conrad inferred that they were there when Count Bertrich had flung his glove on the floor of Thuron. In like manner part of an army had been sent down the river to Cochem, and from that place had pushed round the castle on the north side of the stream until they saw their comrades on the other shore, while between the two camps a chain had been stretched and all traffic up and down the river stopped. But the most startling part of Conrad's budget was this. The Archbishop of Cologne had come through the Eifel region to Treves and had joined hands with his colleague, Arnold von Isenberg. Troops were then marching up the Rhine from Cologne, and the two Electors had made common cause regarding the reduction of Thuron. The army of Treves had surrounded the castle, and would draw closer the moment the army of Cologne arrived. It was supposed that the speedy environment of the place was to prevent the Black Count and his company from escaping to the Rhine or to Frankfort. Conrad learned all this on the evening of the first day, and, watching his opportunity, made his escape, but was seen by the guards, whose bolts came near to making an end of him. For two nights and two days he wandered without food in the forest, not knowing his whereabouts, and following streams which he expected would lead him to the Moselle, but was often forced to abandon them because of the hostile parties encamped near their waters, and thus at last he had reached Thuron.

The Emperor listened to this recital, appalled at the position in which he found himself. With the two Archbishops besieging the castle, there would be small chance of his reaching Frankfort, and as the ultimate reduction of the castle was now certain, he would find himself the prisoner of his two turbulent and powerful subjects, Treves and Cologne, confronted with the problem of whether he preferred being hanged as an accomplice of the dark marauder who stood by his side, or revealing his identity and taking what chance might offer when the knowledge was thus brought to the Archbishops. Meanwhile his friend, Baron von Brunfels, would not have the slightest inkling of his whereabouts, and if the disappearance of the Countess was thus kept secret, as seemed to be the intention of Arnold and Count Bertrich, Brunfels would not be able to hazard even a guess. However, there was this consolation, that at no time could he have escaped from Thuron. He was in effect trapped the moment he set foot within its gates. Had he, with the Countess, set out the following morning for Frankfort they would evidently have been intercepted by the Archbishop's troops, and had he alone attempted to reach his capital the same fate would have been in store for him. His only regret now was that von Brunfels must remain in ignorance of his position, but, as he had done his best to remedy that, he could only blame fate for its unkindness to him.

The Black Count listened in sombre taciturnity to Conrad's record and spoke no word when it was finished, but stood there in deep thought, his eyes on the floor. Rodolph was the first to break the ensuing silence.

"You see, my Lord Count, the case stands as I expected. It was Arnold's intention to have besieged you, and he has craftily entered into negotiations with Cologne, doubtless fearing to attack you alone. This scheme has been some time in concocting, and the flight of the Countess, so far from bringing on the contest, has merely given you bare time for preparation."

Heinrich gave utterance to an exclamation which can be designated only by the inelegant term, grunt. It was his favourite method of expression when perturbed. He did not raise his eyes from the floor, nor did he reply.

"The fact that two Archbishops instead of one do you the honour to besiege you should really not have much bearing on the result. I doubt if they can carry the castle by storm, so their numbers are of little avail to them. They can but starve you, and that one Archbishop could have done as well as two. I suppose you have at least a year's provision now in the vaults?"

"Two years," answered the Black Count, gruffly. "I shall turn out of the castle all but fighting men. Not an extra mouth shall remain within the walls."

"You surely do not intend to turn the Countess Tekla and your own Countess from Thuron?" cried Rodolph in alarm.

Heinrich looked sullenly at him for some moments, and then said:

"No. Neither do I care to be questioned, and, least of all, interfered with. You see how much your precious scheme for informing Baron von Brunfels is worth, therefore be not so forward with advice or comment."

"I beg to call your Lordship's attention to the fact," said Rodolph, with cool firmness, "that my precious scheme has informed you of the odds against you. You may take the knowledge with the petulance of a woman or the courage of a man, as best befits you. A gloomy brow never yet encouraged beleaguered garrison. If you hold off this pair of prelates with their armies for a year or more, then will your name be renowned in song and story wherever brave deeds are valued, and the two Archbishops will become the laughing stock of Christendom. By my good sword, the carvers of the Black Forest shall make wooden figures of them butting their twin heads against Thuron, and the children of the world from now till doomsday will pull a string to see them jump. 'As foolish and as futile as the two Archbishops' will pass into a proverb, or perhaps it will be 'As brave as Heinrich of Thuron.' You have indeed an opportunity which falls to but few, if you meet it with unwrinkled brow."

The Count's countenance had perceptibly cleared while this recital was going on, but he made no direct reply, merely telling the attendants to convey Conrad to a room and see that he was well cared for. Then he asked that Captain Steinmetz be brought before him, and when that ruddy, uncomely officer entered, he said:

"Have you disposed your men along the walls?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Are any of the Archbishop's troops yet in sight?"

"No, my Lord."

"Send a trusty man to Alken, and tell the dwellers therein that we are to be besieged by the Archbishops of Treves and Cologne. Ask them to spread the news along either bank of the river with these instructions, that all are to make the best terms with the Archbishops they can; to sell their provisions and wine for the most money obtainable, preferring the gold to their Lordships' blessings, if they take my advice. Tell them I shall look out for myself, but that I cannot offer protection to any outside the castle walls; therefore, I shall in future, if victorious, not hold it against any man that he has saved his skin, or his grain, or his wine, by denouncing me. Make all arrangement for the women folk and very old men who are now in the castle. Pay for a year's keep of each of them, and say that if more money is required I shall see they get it. Marshal the non-combatants over the wall and down the ladders as quickly as may be, and if any have friends in the village with whom they prefer to lodge, arrange it to their satisfaction."

"All the women, my Lord?" cried Steinmetz, in astonishment.

"All the women in the castle, with the exception of my wife and my niece, and all the old men incapable of bearing arms."

Steinmetz hesitated, yet seemed incapable of protest.

"Well!" roared the Black Count.

"There will be grumbling among the men, my Lord."

Heinrich brought his huge fist down on the table with a resounding blow.

"Bring me the head of the first man who grumbles. Go and execute your orders, send the women away at once, and they will the sooner make terms with their innkeepers."

Steinmetz departed, and the Black Count strode up and down the room, muttering to himself and scowling like a demon. Rodolph saw he was not in a humour to be remonstrated with, and so said nothing; indeed he understood the military necessity of the apparently harsh measures the Count proposed in deporting from the castle all those who were not necessary to its defence, yet who would likely come to no ill through leaving the fortress. For a long time there was silence in the room, broken only by the Count's measured stride on the oaken floor, in the centre of which Count Bertrich's glove lay pinned with arrows. Rodolph himself was in no pleasant temper, and he looked ahead with some dismay toward imprisonment in a castle which was commanded by so rude and disagreeable a person as the swarthy Count. The archer stood guard at the door, having been set there by the Count's command when Steinmetz's men took their places on the walls. Rodolph wished that he might go to the entrance and talk with the good-natured bowman as an antidote to the gruffness of the Count, whom he found becoming more and more unbearable. There had been moments when he thought the Count might be won over by judicious flattery and soothing compliments, but as he learned more of his temperament he saw that all this had but a transient effect upon him; that, indeed, the Count resented any superior readiness shown by others in conversation; and, in addition, had a nature so suspicious that after having had time to think on what had been said, he became more intractable than ever, evidently coming to the conclusion that the wheedling phrases used to him had been spoken for the purpose of mollifying him and attaining certain ends, all of which he resented.

Presently Rodolph was startled from his reverie by the entrance of the Countess Tekla, accompanied by Hilda, who was weeping. A rich colour mantled the cheeks of the Countess, and it needed no second glance to see that she was in a state of angry indignation. Rodolph, remembering that she expected to civilise her uncle, began to have doubts of her success. Heinrich stopped in his walk when she came in, and glared blackly at her but without speaking.

"Oh, uncle, uncle!" cried Tekla, her voice showing she was nearer tears than the haughty expression of her face indicated, "you surely cannot intend that Hilda and I are to be separated, and that she, a stranger to all here and in Alken, is to be taken to the village?"

"I will have no interference with my orders, Tekla—not from any one."

"But one person more or less can make no difference in the result of the siege. If you think it will, give Hilda and me a single share of food between us, but do not send her away."

The Black Count with almost inarticulate rage at this crossing of his will, beat the table with his fist repeatedly, but seemed unable to speak. He stuttered, with white foam flecking his lips and his black beard. Rodolph edged nearer the Countess, and in a whisper begged her to go away; that unexpected tidings seemed to have for the moment overcome the Count's self-control.

"But they are waiting outside to take Hilda with them. They will seize her unless the order is countermanded," cried the Countess.

"It is war, you fool!" at last roared the Count. "If I have another word from you, huzzy! I shall send you also with your Treves trollop; a fine to-do about a menial like her! And from you, who are the cause of all our trouble."

"You know that is a lie," said Rodolph, quietly.

The Count turned on the young man with an expression like that of a ravenous wolf; his jaw dropped, showing his white teeth against the jet black of his beard. He seemed about to spring at Rodolph's throat, but his wild eye, wandering to the door, saw the dreaded archer on the alert, watching with absorbed interest the loud-talking group in the centre of the room. His weapon seemed itself on the alert, and there was enough of sanity somewhere in the Count's brain to bid him pause in his projected onslaught. But the fact that he had to check himself added fuel to his anger.

"Get you out of this!" he shrieked; "all of you. I am master of this castle, and none breathes herein but by my permission, man or woman. Whoever questions my authority by word or look, dies. Now, out with you!"

Before any could move Steinmetz strode into the hall, holding by the hair a human head lopped off at the neck, raggedly, the red drops falling on the floor as he walked.

"There, my Lord," he said, holding up the ghastly trophy at arm's length, while he cast a malignant leer at Rodolph, who involuntarily shrank from the hideous object. Even the Black Count himself seemed taken aback by the sudden apparition that confronted him.

"What ... what is that?" he stammered.

"The head of the first man who grumbled at your command about the women, my Lord. I obeyed your orders and struck off his head."

Rodolph, pale as the dead face, stepped hurriedly between it and the Countess, but not in time to prevent her getting sight of it. She raised a terrified scream that rang to the rafters and covered her eyes with her hands, tottering backwards, while Hilda implored her to withdraw, saying she would go anywhere the Count ordered, and begged her mistress not to cross him. Rodolph sprang quickly to the side of the Countess and supported her. The scream once more aroused the tigerous anger of her uncle. His eyes shot fire as he shouted:

"You did right, Steinmetz, and I am glad there is one man in the castle who obeys the master of it unquestioning. It is war!" and as with increased violence the Black Count roared these words, he smote the grinning head with his gigantic paw and sent it spinning along the floor like a round projectile from a catapult.

"It is not war, it is murder!" wailed the Countess. "There is a curse on this doomed roof, and it shall fall in deserved ruin."

"Hush, hush," whispered Rodolph in her ear. "Bend to the storm; nothing can be done with him now."

"I am going with Hilda; I am going with Hilda. I care not where, so long as it is away from Thuron."

"No, no. Hilda will be safe enough, while you are not, outside those walls. Let me conduct you to your apartments, and I will be surety that you shall see Hilda shortly. For her sake as well as your own, bend to the storm. Don't you see you are dealing with a madman?"

Count Heinrich stood watching them, laughing in short snarling harsh snatches that did indeed resemble the ejaculations of a lunatic, but he made no attempt to interfere with them. Hilda, thoroughly hysterical through fear, leaving her mistress in the care of Rodolph, had flung herself at the feet of the Count, beseeching him to deal with her as he pleased, saying she would go anywhere he ordered her to go, and in the same breath imploring him not to be harsh with her mistress.

"Take her away, Steinmetz," commanded Heinrich, spurning her with his foot. "Send her down to the village."

The Captain, grasping her wrist, jerked her rudely to her feet, pushed past Rodolph and the Countess, dragging the girl out with him. The Countess seemed again about to protest, pausing in her progress, but the young man urged her towards the door, still counselling silence.

"Shall I pin him to the wall?" whispered the archer, who had been watching the scene with wide open eyes, his fingers twitching for the string, on tension for any sign from his master that might be constructed into permission to launch a shaft. "It seems high time."

"No," said Rodolph, sternly. "Keep true guard where you stand. See nothing, and say nothing."

Man and woman disappeared, leaving the archer murmuring that he wished his master had some courage. The Black Count now alone, except for the silent archer at the door, resumed his walk up and down, first savagely kicking the decapitated head from his path.