Ulric the Jarl

by William Stoddard

  “I see his sleight of hand,” said Tostig. “I have beaten harder fighters than he is. The Jew is snared!”

  Longer this time had been the contest, for the Jew ran, dodging, advancing, retreating, striking, and it was only by his utmost skill that the huge African at last threw over him the fatal net. Even then the trident was parried oft, but it struck and the brave Jew went down.

  “Now!” said Ulric to Tostig. “I go with thee. We will show them a thing. Let me see thy seax. It is sharp. It will do. Off with thy armor! Take this heavy shield and see that thou cast it well.”

  Bare, save a cloth around his loins and a helmet on his head, Tostig went out into the arena, and the multitude shouted loudly, but Julius bit his lip. “Here is something more than the Nubian hath yet encountered,” he muttered. “I would I might change my wagers. Yonder Saxon is an athlete for the Olympian games.”

  Well used were the rabble of Tiberias, however, to see their black favorite net his victims. Neither they nor he expected aught but a sure and speedy victory.

  Facing each other at twenty cubits’ distance were now the two combatants, and on the face of Tostig the Red was a smile.

  “Now do I see more plainly the meaning of the jarl!” he exclaimed. “Let this black one but cast his net. Thor and Odin! What a simple trick is this to be slain by!”

  The black uttered a great cry, laughing, as he strode forward, but Tostig made no retreat. He did but stamp with one foot, balancing himself, and loosened the exceedingly heavy shield upon his left arm, to seize it, also, with his right hand.

  Through the air swept the net of peril, whistling as it went, and flying, with a wide hollowing, to fall over Tostig as it had fallen over many another. Laughed, also, Tostig, throwing with all his strength, and midway in the air the heavy shield struck into the hollow of the net, swinging it suddenly downward, but it fell also over the points of the lowered trident, tangling it. Around and under the tangle, not touched by it, went the white and muscular shape of the Saxon and the swift seax went twice into the bosom of the African juggler with nets.

  “Thy sesterces, O Julius!” shouted Caius. “Thy favorite is gone from thee. What thinkest thou of my Saxons?”

  True gamester was Julius, for his face changed not its proud serenity.

  “I have but learned how a strong swordsman may overcome the weapons of Neptune,” he responded. “My lion will bring me back my sesterces.”

  “Well for thee, O jarl!” muttered Caius. “My Saxons have a cunning captain. He is a man to win battles. I must keep him. But great is his peril now. Jove guard him lest I lose many sesterces.”

  The multitude was hoarse with shouting, and now they grew silent, for they knew by the lists that they were next to see a trained swordsman torn asunder by the unconquerable lion from Numidia, the beast which had slain heroes before Cæsar.

  The trumpet had not yet sounded when Ulric, the son of Brander, went down the stairway to the room below where waited for him the master of the games, and upon this man’s face was a bitter smile, for he was a servant of Julius.

  “O Saxon,” he said, “the edict forbiddeth thee to wear mail. Thou hast but a sword and buckler. The lion weareth no armor.”

  “Ulric the Jarl,” exclaimed Wulf the Skater, “this is a trick for thy destruction!”

  “Wait thou, true friend,” said the jarl. “Trust me yet a little. Odin is with me this day, and fear not thou these tricksters.”

  The master of the games understood not the Saxon tongue, but he read well the fierce eyes of Wulf and he fell back a little, for the Skater’s hand was on his sword-hilt and the Saxons were known to act suddenly.

  “No helmet!” said the cunning friend of Julius. “The lion fighteth bareheaded.”

  The sword of Wulf rattled loosely in the sheath as the helmet was put aside, but he obeyed a sign from Ulric and drew it not.

  “If the jarl be slain,” he muttered, “that dog must die. I will see to this matter.”

  Knud the Bear had come down, but he was silent and his face was dark. He and Wulf turned and went up the stairs and so did the master of the games, well satisfied.

  “Now the long sword!” said Ulric, throwing aside the short falchion provided for him. “O but its edge is keen!”

  He heard the trumpet sound and the door before him opened. Then the great multitude shouted with admiration and the Saxons themselves wondered.

  “He is so beautiful!” exclaimed Tostig the Red. “O that we must lose him! What shall we do without our jarl?”

  “Would that I might die with him!” groaned Wulf the Skater, but Knud was thoughtful.

  “Do we not know him?” he said. “Is he not the son of Odin? Are all our gods dead? I think the Nornir are not here and that the valkyrias will not come.”

  A tower of white stood the jarl, with but a silken garment from waist to knee, and his golden-curled head was a glory. In his hand was the African sword, its bright blade and the jewels of its hilt glittering.

  “It is not the sword I sent him,” muttered Julius. “That might have broken in his hand, but this will not. He is like Mars! O Caius, what thinkest thou of thy barbarian and of thy sesterces?”

  “Wilt thou double thy wager?” asked Caius. “I am pleased with my Saxon lion.”

  “Nay,” laughed Julius, “thou wilt have losses enough. Thou wilt see him torn shortly.”

  For the trumpet spoke again and the lion sprang out of his cage with a roar like distant thunder. The sun rays fell upon his face, however, and he lifted his head, blinded for a moment. Then he saw the throng and he walked along a few paces, as if willing to spring among the tiers of seats, but they were high and he looked again around the arena. Motionless stood Ulric, watching the lion, and between them now was but half the width of the arena. Men breathed not, but leaned forward in their places, and now the eyes of the great beast perceived the jarl and he roared with the roar of hunger and wrath.

  “Now for thy Saxon!” said Julius to Caius. “I think his hour hath come.”

  “O jarl!” murmured Wulf. “Is it for this thou didst sail to the Middle Sea? Where is now thy city of Asgard!”

  “Hark!” exclaimed Knud the Bear. “Another cometh! Here is more treachery! A tiger!”

  Not with a roar, but with a snarl that was dreadful did the Hyrcanian monster rush from his den into the arena. He was more terrible to look upon than was even the lion, and he paused not in his going. He seemed to rush along the ground, crouching stealthily, and he looked longer and larger as he went.

  “The jarl is lost!” said Tostig the Red. “O to be near with my spear for one cast. This is twain upon one!”

  “This was thy bargain,” said Caius to the cunning Julius. “Thy tiger was to contend with the swordsman of my naming. I have appointed this chief.”

  “So be it!” said Julius calmly. “I accept!”

  “Wait!” muttered Ben Ezra to the Saxons. “The beasts have seen each other. Mark now the swift movement of the jarl! The lion is about to spring! The tiger! O God of Israel, aid thou, even though he be a heathen!”

  The tiger’s rush was rapid and Ulric sprang forward as if to meet him; but the lion was in the air with a vast bound, his black mane streaming and his teeth showing in the cavern of his jaws.

  Not upon Ulric did he alight, however, for at his spring and roar the tiger turned in his tracks as toward one who would wrest from him his intended prey. Past both of them darted the jarl as the Numidian fell heavily upon the Hyrcanian; then his turning was as the light in its quickness and he thrust with his might upon the beasts as they grappled each other, rolling upon the ground and tearing.

  “He hath cut off one forepaw of the tiger,” exclaimed Knud. “That thrust was at the lion. Again! Again! Such roaring was never heard.”

  The wild beasts tore as they roared and the multitude uttered loud outcries, but all of the movements in the arena were untellably rapid, nor might they who were watching separate Ulric from his two enemies. He was w
ith them at every spring and turn and roll. The long, keen sword dripped blood and the white skin of the son of Odin was spattered redly, as if he were sorely wounded.

  “If he be slain at all thou losest,” said Julius.

  “O friend,” replied Caius, “be thou contented. Thou must buy thee better beasts than these.”

  “Mark!” exclaimed Tostig the Red. “That was a thrust behind the shoulder. The tiger falleth undermost. O jarl! Beware now of thy lion!”

  Over the dying tiger stood the huge Numidian, panting and roaring, and before him stood the jarl, looking him in the eyes.

  “Splendid is he!” exclaimed Ben Ezra. “Jehovah of Hosts, be with him now! It is the last.”

  Forward went the lion, but not with a bound, and he swerved in his rush owing to his many wounds. High in the air and over him, in a leap for life, went the son of Odin, and as his feet touched the earth he turned, thrusting swiftly, and he sprang again. Wild were the plaudits of the multitude, but the lion was staggering and his roar was muffled.

  “One thrust more,” muttered Ulric. “I am sorely spent and I bleed. Hael, Odin! I have cloven his heart! He dieth!”

  Then turned he and walked steadily to the front of the place of the great ones, while a vast clamor arose in all the tiers of seats.

  “O Saxon,” said Caius, “art thou wounded?”

  “A scratch or two,” replied the jarl, cunningly. “Am I to fight another lion this day, or wait I until the morrow?”

  “O Caius, the sesterces are thine,” said Julius. “Thy barbarian hath won for thee. Never saw I the like of this.”

  “To thy place, O jarl,” shouted Caius. “I come to thee quickly. Be thou silent!”

  Away strode Ulric, stepping proudly, but the door of the room he sought opened as he came.

  “Enter! Enter!” shouted Knud the Bear. “O our beloved, art thou slain?”

  “Water, quickly!” said Ulric. “I would drink. Wash me also. Bind up my hurts and put on my mail. Let no man see these tearings in my limbs. I shall not die!”

  “Glory to the God of Israel!” exclaimed Ben Ezra. “I am the physician for thy hurts. Bring bandages. These are not to death. I feared for thee greatly.”

  “Nevertheless,” growled Wulf the Skater, “I will slay that master of the games. O jarl, if we had lost thee!”

  So said the other Saxons, crowding down to greet him, but the bandages were made firm, the mail and the helmet were put on, and then out across the arena marched they all, the jarl leading them.

  “Truly he is not slain,” muttered Julius. “I have lost my beasts and my sesterces!”

  At the great portal, however, Caius waited with a chariot.

  “Not to thy quarters, O Saxon jarl,” he said. “I take thee to Capernaum for thy healing. All thy men will follow now, and a ship waiteth at the seaside. Julius must not see how thou art wounded. Wilt thou live?”

  “He will live,” said Ben Ezra. “Speak not now. Harm was done by claws, but more by a paw stroke on the head. But for that he had slain them sooner, and he was torn only while he was fallen. A hard battle, O Caius of Thessalonica.”

  “He and his have beaten Julius for me,” said Caius. “They shall fight no more save at Jerusalem and at Rome.”

  “May we tarry long enough to offer sacrifices to the gods of this place?” asked Knud. “I would leave them in good humor. It is well to be on good terms with the gods.”

  “What sayest he?” asked Caius of Ben Ezra, but Ulric himself responded:

  “Peace with thy gods, O Knud. Let alone. I saw when I was under the tiger’s paw. I thought at first of the valkyrias, but they came not. The gods of this place we will leave here. They are nothing to us. Come!”

  “So be it!” said Knud. “I meant only to deal prudently. Thou art our jarl. We will come.”

  They lifted Ulric into the chariot, Ben Ezra and Knud and Tostig entering with him, and the other Saxons followed, led by Wulf the Skater. With them now was Abbas, and he said to Ben Ezra:

  “The keeper of the tiger’s cage hath lost his head for letting him out too soon, and the master of the games lieth slain under the tiers, no man knoweth by whose hand.”

  “They who butcher many,” said Ben Ezra, “do well to avoid knives. The man with all other men for enemies dieth speedily.”

  But Wulf the Skater smiled joyously and he said to Lars, the son of Beolf, at his side:

  “The Jew is a wise one; but beware thou of Abbas, lest he sell thee.”

  Lars looked at the spear in his hand and at Abbas, and he answered not.

  “We have our jarl!” laughed Wulf as they went forward, and quickly they were at the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and they saw a galley, like a pleasure boat, rowing rapidly nearer to the place where the chariot halted.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XXVIII. The Jarl and the Rabbi.

  SOFTLY AND EASILY MAY a wounded man be borne along upon cushions over smooth water under a silken canopy. There was no further fatigue for the jarl, the victor, that day, and before its close he lay upon a couch in a room of one of the seaside palaces. All men went out from him save Caius.

  “O jarl, my friend,” he said, “I must leave thee. Gain thou thy strength as rapidly as thou mayest. Thy Jew, Ben Ezra, telleth me that he may not tarry here.”

  “He is not any more needed while I lie thus,” said the jarl. “I would see him. If thou art willing, he may go.”

  “I consent,” said Caius. “Thou art interpreter enough for thy men. I will send him to thee, but now I must return to Tiberias, for I have much upon my hands. May all the gods give thee a speedy recovery, and I promise thee that thou shalt yet fight before Cæsar himself. Thou art worthy!”

  So saying, the centurion departed, and in a moment more Ben Ezra came and sat down sadly by the side of Ulric.

  “Thou goest from me?” asked the jarl.

  “Hardly of mine own will,” replied Ben Ezra, “but I must go to Jerusalem, and I will return to thee if thou comest not soon to me. I commit thee to the keeping of Jehovah, my god. Abbas goeth also, and there will be one double tongue the less in Galilee. Fare thee well. I have done for thee what I could.”

  “O Jew, I thank thee,” said the jarl. “Come thou again to me and I will ever welcome thee as if thou wert of my kindred.”

  Little more did they say, for the jarl was in fever and in pain and the hour was late. Ben Ezra departed, but at the door of the room stood Tostig, spear in hand, although this palace was a place of peace.

  “O Tostig,” said Ben Ezra. “I go away for a season. Guard thee well your jarl!”

  “That will we, O Jew,” said Tostig. “There will be swords and spears around him by day and night. Whither goest thou?”

  “To Jerusalem,” said Ben Ezra, “and I think I may have somewhat to do there for thy jarl. I love him much. I come again shortly.”

  “The gods go with thee,” said Tostig. “I think thee a brave warrior. Art thou sure that the jarl healeth of these hurts?”

  “No man knoweth surely,” said Ben Ezra, “but see ye to it that he hath quiet.”

  “We will care for that,” said Tostig. “I have been sore wounded myself, and while the cuts were knitting I would fain have cleft the head of any who came near me.”

  So Ben Ezra departed from Tiberias, taking with him Abbas, and the palace of the friend of Caius by the Sea of Galilee contained now only the servants of its owner and these who were called the gladiators of Caius of Thessalonica. For these there was sufficient occupation of mind at the first, for many came to gaze at them, and men of rank, also, were interested, but none might ask undue questions of men whose speech was unknown and whose behavior was silent and haughty. To them, also, not only were all buildings new to be examined, but there were fruits and wines and strange ways of living to become accustomed to. Boats were there, to be used at any time, and the Saxons talked much of the fiords and fishing of their own land while they were amusing themselves upon the Sea of Galilee. Over it di
d they go from end to end that they might look upon all things upon its shores, and they wondered much that one small sea should contain such abundance of fishes and have so many towns and cities builded beside it, as if there were no other place for the cities of this marvelous land. Few days went by in this manner, but there were other affairs than those of the Saxons.

  Ever is it true that the cunning, who believe their ways to be hidden, are sometimes read as are books in strange tongues read by those who are learned in difficult runes. Julius, the centurion, the chief commander of the Roman forces in Galilee, had other hopes and ambitions than the winning of sesterces in gambling, and he had other cunnings besides his tricks of the circus. At this time Herod, tetrarch of Galilee and loving to be called a king, was plotting to gain for himself the entire realm which had been ruled by his cruel father, Herod the Great. To this end he might require the removal by Cæsar of Pontius the Spearman from being procurator, and the destruction of his own brother, Herod Antipas, tetrarch of the lands northward of Galilee. If, therefore, Herod of Machærus and Julius, the centurion, were working together against the procurator, then the near friend of Pontius was as a spy and an enemy in their camp. Nevertheless, Caius of Thessalonica had been received in Tiberias with all the welcoming due to an exceedingly distinguished visitor, an honored friend. Not that Herod was here to meet him at this time, for the tetrarch preferred the safekeeping of his Black Castle, Machærus, on the easterly side of the Sea of Death, which hath no waves and whereon the seabirds die.

  Caius, the centurion, walked one evening alone by the shore of the Lake of Galilee, and he communed deeply with himself.

  “Thus far Jove hath been with me. I have escaped the treachery of both the wolf Julius and the foxes, the Herods. I do now know that Herod Antipas refuseth to join them, to his ruin. Why linger I here, where I am not safe for an hour but for the swords of my Saxon gladiators? I trust their jarl, for they are his more than mine. He mendeth but slowly from the tiger’s clawing. I would he were able to ride even in a chariot, for my errand here is done. Unless he were with me I could do little with his barbarians. Abbas is a traitor, ready for a buyer, and I believe him already bought. Ben Ezra—he is a Jew, and every Jew hateth every Roman, with good cause. I am glad he hath departed. The barbarians are not so, for they are but gladiators, and this Jarl Ulric is not as a common man. I may trust him.”