Ulric the Jarl

by William Stoddard

  Julius listened to him in a white wrath. “O thou, my friend!” he shouted. “Seest thou not that this thing is aimed at me as much as at thee? If thou hadst thus been slain, it had been my utter ruin. Woe to these Herods! They shall both fall by the sword of Cæsar. The gods be with thy Saxons. Thou needest them. Commend me unto Pontius and say to him that thou and I are henceforth one in all these matters. The Herods now seek to stab him also. Let him guard well his head.”

  So talked they long together in a nearness which they had not known before, finding themselves in the same peril from the serpents which bite in the dark.

  From the gate of Tiberias on the morrow went out a company worth the seeing. Not without armed Roman escort and many bondservants might the chariots of so important a man as Caius of Thessalonica set forth. When to all these were added the vikings, in their best armor and well mounted, it was as if a small army had been ordered southward. To the place of parting and of farewell came, also, Julius and many men of note to do all honor to the friend of the procurator.

  “O Caius,” said Julius, “I already have a swift messenger from Antipas. He hath sent his horsemen to search the hills beyond the sea and Tarichæa. They will ride with all diligence, and beyond doubt they will find some to slay, but thy shield must be nearer to thee than is the Jordan.”

  “It will be very near,” said Caius, smiling, for near him rode Tostig the Red watching all keenly, and his spear was in his hand.

  This, too, saw Julius, and he laughed.

  “O my friend,” he said, “it is even so. Fare thee well; but they who come to meet thee should have due warning, for thy protectors are no respecters of persons.”

  All then rode on, and the Saxons talked much among themselves concerning the things which they had already seen in this land. They had visited all towns and villages around the sea, but none of them were more splendid than Tiberias.

  “I would have visited Capernaum,” said Ulric.

  “There is no great thing there,” said Tostig the Red. “What hadst thou in thy mind?”

  “Only this,” said the jarl: “that this son of the old god of the Jews, this rabbi of Nazareth, dwelleth there at times. I owe him thanks and gifts for my healing. Also I have it in mind to ask him questions concerning my father, and Hilda, and Valhalla, and Asgard. Hilda I have not seen but in my dream on The Sword.”

  “One was with her, I heard thee say when thou didst meet her. It was well to give her thy ring. I would have done so. But what would this god of the Jews know concerning thy maiden? The gods care not for such things. She was fair to look upon. But, O Ulric the Jarl, I would I were on the sea again!”

  So said all the vikings many times, but they told the jarl that not in any of their goings to Capernaum had they seen Jesus, the rabbi. They had heard of him, that he was away in other places, here and there, teaching and preaching and healing many and casting out evil spirits.

  “It is good that he so doeth,” said Lars, the son of Beolf, “and that he healed the tiger scratches upon the jarl, but what good is it for him to sing sagas to these people of no account?”

  There was none to answer him, for even Ulric himself was silent. Nevertheless, the son of Brander had many thoughts which he did not utter and he forgot not any of the words which he had heard spoken by this one who had healed his hurts.

  “I understand them not,” he said to himself. “He bade us think of the gods, and that I do. Even now I am seeking their city and that I may get acquainted with my kindred. How shall I do so completely before I am slain? And he who dieth a cow’s death, so say the sagas, shall not enter Valhalla, but shall find his place in Hel. I would join the heroes of the old time and dwell with Thor and Odin. I think I shall know more after I have seen the city Jerusalem, which Ben Ezra saith is like Asgard. At all events I will sacrifice horses and oxen and sheep in the temple of Jehovah as if he were Odin himself, for he is the chief god of this wonderful land.”

  More and more wonderful indeed did it seem to the Saxons as they rode onward all that day, for it swarmed with inhabitants and the villages and towns were many in number.

  It was at the gate of Jezreel that their company halted, at the setting of the sun, and Ulric sat upon his horse looking toward Carmel. Behind the city arose Gilboa, wooded and craggy. Before it stretched Esdraelon.

  “O Wulf the Skater,” said the jarl, “do you bear in mind the things which were said of this city and plain by Ben Ezra and Abbas?”

  “More was said to thee than to others,” replied Wulf. “It is a city of sieges and a plain of many battles. I can see the blue ridge of Carmel and beyond is the Middle Sea. I would I might see waves this hour and smell the salt air. This is a woeful land, where never is good ice or deep snow. We go on into the winter and we may yet see a snow squall if we are fortunate. But Knud will need no bearskins and Wulf will need no skates—and I sicken when I think of such a winter.”

  “The great battle of the end of the world and the twilight of the gods!” exclaimed Ulric. “O ye! If Ben Ezra’s Jewish sagas lie not, here shall we witness the greatest of all the feasts of swords. Here shall we have for our jarl a god, the son of a god, and there will be gods and heroes to fight with. I, the son of Odin, will be here! Hael, Odin!”

  “I will be with thee, then,” said Knud, “but if it is soon to come, it were better for some of us to go back to the Northland and return with many keels full of men like ourselves. This god will need Saxons if he is to fight Romans. These Jews will go down like wheat before the sickle, for I have been looking at them and at the legionaries.”

  “Thou art right!” exclaimed Tostig the Red. “But there is room on this plain for great armies to meet. They will come from many places, Abbas told me, and among them will also be black and yellow men, and there will be great beasts, and the eagles that are wide-winged, and creatures whereof he could not tell me the shape. They may be like the one we saw come up from under the ice to tear the whales, only that such as he do not come out upon the land.”

  “No man knoweth from whence these will come,” said Knud, “but some of them are as great serpents with wings. I like not to think of them, for they are full of fire and sulphur, and who can fight well in a smoke that choketh him?”

  After this they entered the city of Jezreel, and they wondered greatly at the strength of its walls and towers, but they saw not many soldiers.

  “The land is at peace,” thought Ulric, “and garrisons may be small. I am learning something of war cunning from these Romans. What they take they will hold until a stronger people shall come against them. I know of no such people except in the Northlands.”

  Yet another thought was in the mind of the jarl, and his eyes wandered anxiously wherever he went. In all towns and villages and whenever companies had been met by the way he had seemed to be searching, and a sadness of disappointment was growing upon his face.

  “I heard her say she would see me at Jerusalem,” he told himself, “but now the time is long. She may have come hitherward. Of these damsels whom I have seen as I came many are fair to look upon, but none are as beautiful as Miriam. Cannot Hilda lead me to her? Shall I indeed not see Miriam until I meet her in Asgard? I would that Caius were in greater haste. We travel slowly.”

  If he had looked upon fair faces inquiringly with his sad blue eyes, also had all the Saxons laughed to one another quietly to note how many women put aside their veils a little to turn for another look at the face of the jarl.

  “Never before have these seen any like him,” they said. “They will not see him again, and he careth not for women save for the one to whom he gave a token. He will forever keep his troth with the dark one, the beautiful one, in whose hand he put the ring of the bright red stone as we came through Esdraelon.”

  Good welcome was given to Caius of Thessalonica and his company by the governor of Jezreel, but the vikings went to their quarters listlessly, for they had all looked across the plain toward Carmel, and the thought within them was that be
yond Carmel was the sea and that upon the sea were ships.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XXXI. The Places of Sacrifice.

  QUESTIONS WHICH ARE ASKED by the heart of a man may go far. It is as if they were winged and flew on to a chosen place of alighting, as do the messenger doves carrying letters homeward. One of the birds set free by the ever-beating heart of Ulric the Jarl found a wonderful resting place.

  It was in a house in a great city, and upon all the earth was nothing more magnificent than this house of houses. Upon the top of a high mount in the city was a vast space girded with white walls and towers, so that of this whole area was made a fortress of surpassing strength. Within these walls were great buildings not a few and porticos and separated courts for varied uses.

  There was one building which was greater than any of the others, and to this as to a center all the many structures related; for the arrangement and the architecture were everywhere exceedingly harmonious and convenient. To this greatest building there were several approaches, but the main entrance was by an ample ascent of broad stone steps. Beyond the level at the head of this stairway were mighty doors whose surfaces were covered with beaten gold and many designs of golden ornamentation.

  Within the doors, if one might enter—for here stood ever armed guards—they who went on might see yet more splendors of carven stonework, whereof some of the stones were rare and precious, and of golden and brazen ornament. Here in high places were altars which smoked with almost unceasing sacrifices. Serving at and about the altars were numbers of robed priests with their assistants, and often these were chanting the sagas of their worship, but not in all this place was there any image whereby a stranger might obtain information concerning the shape or person of a god. It was as if he were worshiped in ignorance, none having at any time seen him to make a sculpture or a painting of his likeness.

  In this inner space or court where were the altars there stood this day a multitude of men with covered heads, and they now and then uttered loud voices in unison, which were responses answering the sagas of the priests.

  Here were no women, but at the right was a portal and a passage leading into another court, which was also large and splendid. This was the court of the women, of whom a large number were present, both of the young and of the old.

  This was the temple of Jehovah, the God of the Jews, in the city of Jerusalem. To him only were any sacrifices offered upon the altars, and the sagas were chanted that he might hear them if he would, but none could tell whether or not at any time he might be listening. So many of the sagas formally besought him not to remain at a distance, but to come to this place and listen and do the things asked for by those who brought to his altars these sacrifices.

  Sad and sorrowful, yet full of strange music, was the sound of this singing, while the smoke went up from the burnings and while the censers were swung to and fro by the priests to send out upon the air their clouds of sweet odors. Sad and sorrowful was the pleading, for there cometh a heaviness of soul to him who calleth in vain upon a god who is far away, who is unseen, and who answereth not by voice or sign.

  On the stone pavement, near to a pillar of bright bronze-work and somewhat apart from any of the groups of the other women, knelt one who was veiled and whose voice arose in low murmurings as of a recitation and a prayer. The hand which drew her veil more closely was well shaped and white and upon one of its fingers was a golden ring among other rings less beautiful. So deep was the red light of the ruby in this ring that its glow seemed hot like fire, and it throbbed as if it had pulses at the movement of her hand changing the light upon it. Also her bosom arose and fell and there were tremors in her voice, and she said, whispering softly in the old Hebrew tongue:

  “O thou who art God over all gods, I have sinned to look upon him, for I am a daughter of Abraham and he is one of the heathen. O that he might also be one of Abraham’s children and serve the living God, even our God. I have sinned, O Jehovah of Hosts, but I have made my sin offering and I have made an offering of atonement also for him.”

  Then the gem flashed a great light, but her hand fell and her veil slipped away and the marvel of her face was seen for a moment. Upon it was a smile and a light, and her eyes were closed, but her lips were parted.

  “Have I indeed been spoken to?” she whispered. “I have been told that an angel cometh oft into the court of the women. Never have I seen an angel. Who knoweth that one might not come to me? Would he be fairer to look upon than was he whom I saw at the wayside? If this be truth, then do I know that my offering hath been accepted and that it is no longer a sin for me to remember him. Woe is me, then, if I am to never see him more! O he was beautiful! Exceedingly! And I have brought into the house of Jehovah this token which he gave me. But what is this which hath come to me?”

  Her eyes were opened, looking downward, and the red glow of the ruby answered them as if it were speaking to her of love. Then she arose, covering with her long silken veil, and she walked out of the court of the women; but a dove, escaped from the cages of the offerings, flew over her head and went out above the great gate and the wall, flying swiftly until he disappeared over the Mount of Olives.

  On walked the young woman beyond the temple walls and the sacred mount, going until she came to a street of palaces, ascending another mount. Here shortly she disappeared, but she was more beautiful than any palace and in her light stepping there were both gracefulness and a great pride of manner, as if she were of high degree.

  Now at that hour of the evening sacrifice the city was exceedingly still, for men and women everywhere paused in whatever they were doing and turned their faces toward the temple. Horsemen drew rein and chariots halted, and there were many who knelt even in the open streets. But of these were none but Jews and Jewish proselytes from other nations, and there were those who were worshipers of other gods that were sufficient for them. Roman soldiers who were marching halted not, and of these a body of a hundred spearmen passed out at the Damascus gate with an officer at their head.

  “O captain of the gate,” he shouted, “yonder cometh a messenger. I will await him.”

  “Hinder him not!” replied the keeper of the gate. “He is known to me. It is the swift messenger of the procurator.”

  “Am I not captain of the temple?” shouted the officer so loudly that he who came heard him.

  “If thou art he,” was uttered, hastily, “I pray thee come to me!”

  For the messenger halted, not dismounting.

  “Dog of a Greek!” exclaimed the captain of the temple, haughtily, “shall I come to thee?”

  “There are men with thee and in the gate, O captain,” said Lysias, reverently. “I pray thee permit me to obey the procurator and speak to thee only.”

  “Ho! Thou art right. I come! Hast thou a letter from Pontius?”

  “This little script only,” said Lysias, handing him a parchment, “and these words——”

  “Utter them quickly!” said the officer.

  “‘Pontius to the captain of the temple: slay the messenger of Herod Antipas and let the spy from Machærus not live to sail for Rome. Speed this Lysias to Cornelius, the centurion, and keep him afterward in my house safely until I come. Let him have speech with no man and let no harm come to him.’”

  “Even so!” said the captain of the temple. “Yonder road along the valley of the Kidron bringeth thee to the Joppa gate. From thence is the Joppa highway, and thou wilt find Cornelius at the harbor fort if he hath not departed for Cæsarea. I will give thee a fresh horse. Tarry not in Joppa or in Cæsarea, but return quickly to me.”

  “But not to speech with the high priest,” said Lysias, “nor to any from Herod.”

  “I will see to that,” laughed the captain. “Thou art careful of thy head. Wert thou unmindful of the commands of Pontius, thy shoulders were bare quickly. Thy fresh horse cometh. Mount and ride on.”

  Without more words Lysias obeyed, but as he rode on along the brook Kidron he said aloud: “Well for me th
at I took rest and food while I could, that I fall not from my horse. I can reach Joppa in due season, but what will yonder captain of the temple do with me when I return? I have heard that the messengers of Roman governors are changed like the changing of guards, and that they who are released go sometimes upon errands from which they do not return. I will sacrifice to Mercury!”

  Whether or not he were weary, Lysias rode well and his fresh horse was swift. It was but little to reach the Joppa gate, and the sun was but setting when he turned into the highway leading toward the sea. It was broad and well kept, for chariots and for marching cohorts. Looking back, Lysias saw that the gate was closed and none was in the road behind him. Looking forward, he saw no man, but there were houses on either side of the way except at one wide, open space which arose at the left in a small hill. Bare was this ascent and he wondered at it, saying to himself:

  “So near the gate and no building thereon? It were a place for one of these outer palaces.”

  He had paused to fasten the buckle of his bridle and he looked again upon the hill, and now shriek after shriek of utter agony came to his ears from beyond the crest of the ascent. Voice answered unto voice, and he shuddered as he heard, but a man in armor came slowly down the slope.

  “In the name of the procurator!” shouted Lysias. “Is this the Joppa road?”

  “Art thou of his messengers?” said the soldier. “If thou art, thine ears will tell thee that a score of his enemies are on the wood. This place of skulls will soon smell but badly under this hot sun. Ride on, for this is thy right road.”

  “This, then, is the hill of crucifixion?” asked Lysias.

  “Any place will do,” said the soldier, “but the procurator humoreth the Jews and will set up no crosses in the city. The day may come when we will nail them in their temple and set up there an image of Jupiter. They troubled Pontius mightily when we did but carry our eagles to the temple gate, as if one god were not as good as another. What care I for gods!”