by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER XXXVI.
A frown darkened the Duke's brow. "Now for the last judgment of theassembly! Other gods are drawing near, unlike those which have justviewlessly hovered above the boy's fair locks--terrible gods! Complaintis made against one of the district kings of the Alemanni."
"Ebarbold! Traitor! Rebel! Destroyer of the army! Oath-breaker!" Sothreatening voices rose from the throng.
"Peace! Silence in the assembly!" the judge commanded. "Where is theaccuser?"
The King's weapon-bearer stepped forward, drew his sword, and said:
"I, Ebarvin, son of Erlafrid. For, like all the men of our league ofpeoples, I have sworn a terrible oath by all the gods and by theterrors of Hel to resist, denounce, and avenge rebellion and treacheryagainst the league and the Duke of the Alemanni, wherever, however, andwhenever I can. Well! For twenty winters I bore the shield of KingEbarbold's father, and for as many more the shield of this Ebarboldhimself. Every word I utter against him falls heavily upon my heart;but still more heavily weighs the oath I swore to the Duke forthe league of the Alemanni. Well then, I accuse King Ebarbold ofoath-breaking, rebellion, and treason. Thrice have I warned him, thricehave I openly threatened to reveal his conduct to the Duke and to thewhole people. He laughed at the threat; he would not believe it. Hesaid: 'The skin lies nearer to your heart than the cloak; the Ebergauis dearer to you than the nation; your own lord is more to you than theDuke.' He was mistaken. So it was in former days, so it was for a long,long time; but this wrought woe to us all.
"We have learned the lesson at last: the Romans taught us with ironrods. We have learned it in bloody straits: the people, the league ofthe people, is the highest thing, for it alone protects all: the handis more precious than the finger. But he wanted to persuade me and allhis followers, nay, all the fighting men in our district; and when werefused, he tried to command us by virtue of his authority as King. Hesaid that, if the popular assembly decided to wage war and the Duke setout on the march, we must not obey, but withdraw from the HolyMountain, force our way if necessary, and induce the Romans to spareour district by giving hostages and submission."
A terrible roar rose from the ranks; weapons clashed; the wrath of thepeople burst forth furiously; several young men, brandishing theirswords threateningly, sprang toward the accused, who stood, silent butdefiant, directly before the judge's seat.
"Hold," cried the Duke, "down with your arms! Whoever wields them againin the place of the assembly, the place of the army, shall be punishedat once."
He had started up, and now, from the upper step, he held his long darkmantle protectingly over the head of the threatened man. The tumultinstantly subsided: the most hot-headed retreated into the circle inconfusion.
"I ask you," the judge now began, "King Ebarbold, son--"
"Spare your words. Count of the Linzgau," interrupted the other, with agloomy, but fearless glance. "It is all true. Kill me: you have thepower to do so, therefore you have the right. I do not wish to live!Had that been my desire, believe me, I might have fled into my owndistrict or to the Roman camp long before you deprived me, by your men,of the royal insignia of my race or watched my every step, while youmerely disarmed the insignificant fisherman. True, according to the newlaw of the league, you might have had me bound--me, the son of manykings, the descendant of a god! Since I have learned the disloyalty ofmy most faithful follower, my own old shield-bearer, I feel a loathingfor the times. I no longer wish to live among a people, according to alaw, which permits the horrible thing to happen that the native of adistrict values its King, the follower his lord, less than the emptysound of the word 'league,' the brief authority of a Duke from anotherdistrict. I am too old and too proud to learn this new law. You, oldman, with your greed for power, long ago, in your bloody thoughts,dedicated me to your savage Odin."
"Not I, you yourself, son of Ebor."
"Well then--slay me."
"Not I. You yourself have separated yourself from your people by suchdoctrines. Yes, it is better for such men as you to die than to live:the district kings, if they offer defiance, must be sacrificed to Odin,who, as King of the people, is above all our gods and all our peoples."
"My family," said the King proudly, "runs back through a hundredancestors to the gods: not to that crafty one, whose secret wiles youare imitating, who scatters runes of discord among peoples and princes.We descend from the god of peace. Fro, who bestows fertility. He hasset his golden-bristled boar for a sign upon the shields and helmets ofus, his sons. I have ever honored him and peace above all."
"Aha, the god Fro," replied the old Duke, now incensed, for he couldill brook hearing his Odin upbraided, "the god Fro will have littlecause to rejoice, when he looks down on his descendant dangling fromthe withered yew, like the long-billed snipe that is caught in a snare.For I ask the assembly,--his own words are the most open expression ofguilt,--with what does the law threaten him?"
"The rope--the willow rope!" rang from a thousand voices. "The tree ofshame! Hang him! Hang him up at once!"
"But between two dogs: wolves are too good for him."
A look of keen anguish flitted over the King's proud, bold face. He didnot fear death, but disgrace. He shuddered slightly. The Duke hadwatched him intently.
"I, the judge," he now began slowly, "ought not to oppose thissentence, and the guilty man cannot. But consider, spearmen! It willbring little renown to our name among the other peoples, when the rumorspreads among them: a King of the Alemanni is swinging between theclouds and water for treason to the army. You have offered the humblefisherman the straw of hope that the Lofty One might save him from thedeath of shame, bear him to himself in Valhalla, or even--almostagainst possibility--after the fulfillment of the deed which you haveassigned to him, spare his life.
"Well then, this King's guilt, it is true, is far greater than thatcaused by the father's love for his child; but honor in him thedescendant of the god of harvests! Do not rouse Fro to vengeance, lestfor many years he should blast our crops. The god of the boar withgolden bristles is easily angered! And remember, too, with gratitudethis man's father."
"A brave hero!" ran from lip to lip.
"He fell in the bloody battle of Strataburg, at the head of the wedgeof his district. Fighting gallantly in the van of his people, he atlast sank--fell backward on his shield, with many wounds in his breast;for he, the man who had the wild-boar's courage, would not turn hisback to the foe. This hero is now looking down from Valhalla upon us;his heart is throbbing anxiously at this impending sentence ofdisgrace. Alemanni, do not let him behold his son hanging between dogs.Grant the King, as well as the fisherman, a deed of ransom!"
Ebarbold looked up with a grateful glance to the man whom he had sobitterly hated. The people were still silent: their wrath was fierce.
Then: "Suppose he should run away?"
"Suppose he should desert to the Romans in the midst of the battle?"
Two men uttered the questions at the same moment. A deep groan escapedthe lips of the defiant King: "No one feared that from the fisherman!They ought not to deem me so base." He struck his brow with hisclenched hand.
Then Ebarvin, his accuser, stepped forward, saying:
"These questions were hard and undeserved. Few among our people willsuspect that from the King of the Ebergau. He spoke truly: he mighthave fled long ago, but he would not escape. I believe him. I haveknown him ever since he learned to speak: he has never lied. He wantsto die, from resentment against the people's league, and perhaps alsofrom remorse and shame."
The King, deeply moved, hastily turned away from the speaker and closedhis eyes, but instantly opened them again with a defiant look.
"Well then, I, a free man of unblemished reputation, with broad landsin the Ebergau--I answer for him with life and limb, property andhonor. I will swear for him that any deed of arms imposed by the peopleto ransom him from the rope King Ebarbold will perform, or he will fallupon his shield in doing it."
"I thank y
ou, Ebarvin," said the tortured man, drawing himself up tohis full height: this confidence was balm to his inmost soul.
"So be it! So be it!" shouted the multitude before the judge could putthe question. "The Duke shall choose the deed!"
"Well then," said the latter without hesitation, "it _is_ chosen! Inthe Roman camp is a hero who is its head and its whole strength; if hefall, all their military power will be broken. Name the man!"
"Saturninus!" echoed from many voices. For the Tribune had repeatedlycommanded the Roman troops in Germany, and many of the men nowassembled on the Holy Mountain had formerly served beneath the Romaneagles.
"Ebarbold, bring us from the battle the head of Saturninus--and yourguilt is pardoned. Will you do this, hero of the boar?"
"I will," replied the latter, with a deep sigh of relief. "Give me mysword; give me my weapons again." The shield-bearer handed him thesheathed sword. Tearing the blade from the scabbard, he held its pointtoward the sun, saying: "I swear by this blade, the sacred symbol ofthe one-armed god of war, that, in the next battle, I will slay theTribune, or fall by his sword."
Loud shouts of applause now burst forth. All, even those whoseresentment at first had been most bitter, were heartily glad that,instead of a disgraceful punishment, an honorable deed of ransom hadbeen found for the proud King.
The Duke gazed down at the surging throng with satisfaction.