The Red Axe

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by S. R. Crockett


  CHAPTER XIX

  WENDISH WIT

  The gray plain of the Wolfmark, which we had been traversing ever sincewe descended out of the steep Weiss Thor of the city of Thorn, had nowbegun to break into ridges and mounded hills of stiff red clay. And I,who had often kept my watch on the highest pinnacle of the Red Tower,looked with astonishment back upon the city I had left behind. Seen fromthe plain, Thorn had an aspect almost imperial.

  It rose above the colorless flat of gray suddenly, unexpectedly, almostinsolently. The city, with its numberless gables, spires of churches,turreted gate-houses, occupied a ridge of gradually swelling ground whichrose like a huge whale-back from the misty plain. Its walls were grim,high, and far-stretching. But as we travelled farther into the Wolfmarkthe city seemed to sink deeper into the plain and the dark castle of DukeCasimir to shoot ever higher into the skies. So that presently, as welooked back, we could only see the Wolfsberg itself, the abode of crueltyand wrong, standing black against the white sky of noon.

  Its flanking towers stood up above the battlemented wall, their turretsclimbing higher and higher towards heaven, till the topmost RedTower--that in which my father's garrot was, and in which I had spent myentire life until this day--soared straight upward above them all, like athreatening index-finger pointing, not into the clear sky of a summer'snoon, but into clouds and thick darkness.

  I was glad when at last we lost sight of it. Then, indeed, I felt that Ihad left my old life behind me. And, in spite of the Lady Ysolinde'sink-pool prophecy and my love for my father (such as it was), I did notmean ever to trust myself within that baleful circle of gray and wearyplain upon which the Red Tower looked down.

  Seeing that the maids were inclined to talk the one with the other, orrather that the Lady Ysolinde spoke confidentially with Helene, and thatHelene now answered her without embarrassment and with frank, equalglances, I dropped gradually behind and rode with the two stoutmen-at-arms. These I found to be honest lads enough, but of a strangelyreserved and taciturn nature, each ever waiting for the other toanswer--being, like most Wendish men, much averse to questioning andstill more stiff as to replying.

  "You are men of Plassenburg?" I said to the nearest, simply andinnocently enough, for the purpose of improving the cordiality of ourrelations.

  Whereupon he turned his head slowly about to his neighbor, as it were toconsult him. The glance said as clearly as monk's script: "What shall weanswer to this troublesome, inquisitive fellow?"

  At first I thought that perhaps they spoke not the common dialect, andthat as we were travelling towards regions roughly Wendish and but latelyheathen, they might have some uncouth speech of their own. So, as is everthe custom with folk that are not accustomed to the speaking of foreigntongues, I repeated the question in mine own language in a louder tone,supposing that that would do as well.

  "You are men of the country of Plassenburg?" cried I, as loud as Icould bawl.

  "We are not deaf--we have all our faculties, praise the saints!" said themore distant of the two, looking not at me but at his companion. He, onhis part, nodded back at his comrade's reply, as if it had beendelicately calculated at once to answer my question and at the same timenot to commit them to any dangerous opinions.

  I tried again.

  "Your prince, I hear, is a true man, brave, and well-versed in war?"

  The shorter and stouter man, who rode beside me, glanced once at my face,and slowly screwed round his head to his companion in a long, questioninggaze. Then as slowly he turned his head back again.

  "Umph!" he said, judicially, with a movement of his head, which seemed asuccessful compromise between a nod and a shake, just as his remarkmight very well have resulted from an attempt to say "Yes" and "No" atthe same time.

  This was not encouraging to one who, like myself, was in high spirits andmuch inclined for conversation. But I was not to be so easily beaten off.

  "The Prince of Plassenburg has a Princess," I said, "who is often uponher travels?"

  It was an innocent remark, and, so far as I could see, not one in itselfhighly humorous. But it broke up the gravity of these red-haired northernbears as if it had been the latest gay sally of the court-fool.

  "Ha! ha!" laughed the more distant, lanky man, rocking himself in hissaddle till the pennon on his lance shook and the point dipped towardshis horse's ear.

  "Ho! ho!" chorused his companion, slapping his thigh jovially. "Jorian,did you hear that? 'The Prince of Plassenburg hath a Princess, and she isoften upon her travels.' Ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho!"

  "He hath said it! Ho! ho! He hath said it! He is a wise fellow, afterall, this beardless Jack-pudding of Thorn!" cried the other, tee-heeingwith laughter till he nearly wept upon his own saddle-bow.

  I began to get very angry. For we men of Thorn were not accustomed to beso flouted by any strangers, keeping mostly our own customs, and reiningin the few strangers who ventured to visit Duke Casimir's dominionspretty tightly. Least of all could I brook insolence from these Wendishboors from the outskirts of half-pagan Borrussia.

  "The Prince of Plassenburg hath churls among his retinue," said I, hotly,"if they be all like you two Jacks, that cannot answer a simple questionwithout singing out like donkeys upon a common where there are nothistles to keep them quiet."

  Sir Thicksides, the fat jolter-head nearest me set his thumb out tostick it into the side armor of Longlegs, his companion, who rode cheekby jowl with him.

  "Oo-oo-ahoo!" cried he, crowing with mirth, as if I had said a yet morefacetious thing. "'Tis a simple question--'Hath the Prince of Plassenburga Princess, and is she not oft--ahoo!' Boris, prod me with thylance-shaft hard, to keep me from doing myself an ill turn with thisfellow's innocence."

  "Hold up, Jorian !" answered the long man, promptly pounding him on theback with the butt of his spear. "Hold up, fat Jorian! Let not thy loveof mirth do thee any injury. For thou art a good comrade, and fools wereever apt to divert thee too much. I have seen thee at this before--thattime we went to Wilna, and the fellow in motley gave thee griping spasmswith his tomfoolery."

  Then was I mainly angry, as indeed I had sufficient occasion.

  "You are but churls," I said, "and the next thing to knaves. And I wille'en inform the Prince when we arrive what like are the men whom he setsto escort ladies to his castle."

  But though they were silenter after this, it was not from any alarm at mywords, but simply because they had laughed themselves out of ply. For asI rode on in high dudgeon, half-way between the women and themen-at-arms, I could see them with the corner of an eye still nudgingeach other with their thumbs and throwing back their heads, and thebreeze blew me scraps of their limited conversation.

  "Ho! ho! Good, was it not? 'The Prince hath a Princess, and she--' Ho!ho! Good!"

  The ridges of clay of which I have already spoken continued and increasedin size as we went on. It was a dried-up, speckled, unwholesome-lookingland. And people upon it there were none that we could see. The largefortified farms had ceased altogether. A certain frightful monotonyreigned everywhere. Ravines, like cracks which the sun makes in mud, buta thousand times greater, began to split the hills perpendicularly totheir very roots. The path wound perilously this way and that among them.And presently Jorian and Boris rode past me to take the lead, forYsolinde and Helene were inclined to mistake the way as often as theycame to the crossing and interweaving of the intricate paths.

  And as these two jolly jackasses rode past at my right side I could seethe thumb of long Boris curving towards the ribs of his companion, andthe shoulders of both shaking as they chuckled.

  "A rare simpleton's question, i' faith, yes. Ho! ho! Good!" theychorussed. "'The Prince hath a Princess'--the cock hath a hen, and she--Ha! ha! Good!"

  At that moment I could with pleasure have slain Jorian and Boris foropen-mouthed, unshaven, slab-sided Wendish pigs, as indeed they were.

  Yet, had I done so, we had fared but ill without them. For had they beena thousand times jackasses and rotten pudding-heads (a
s they were), atleast they knew the way and something of the unchristian people amongwhom we were going.

  And so in a little while, as we wound our way along the face of theseperilons rifts in the baked clay, with the mottled, inefficient riverfeeling its way gingerly at the bottom of the buff--colored ravine, whatwas my astonishment to see Jorian and Boris turn sharply at right anglesand ride single file up one of the dry lateral cracks which opened, as itwere, directly into the hill-side!

  They did this without ever looking at the landmarks, like men who areanyways uncertain of their road. But, on the contrary, they wheeledconfidently and rode jauntily on, and we three meekly followed, havingby this time lost the Lubber Fiend, the devil doubtless knew where.For we must have followed Boris and Jorian unquestioningly had theyled us into the bowels of the earth, as indeed, at first sight, theyseemed to be doing.

 

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