Part 5

"Accursed traitors!" shouted Marsk Oluffsen, and dashed in suddenly among the bushes on the left side of the road, where he had perceived some white object moving. A shriek was heard, apparently from a female voice, and the Marsk's horse started aside. At the same moment two young maidens, in the dress of peasant girls, with long plaits of fair hair hanging low over their shoulders, ran, hand in hand, across the road, while a man of almost giant stature, in the dress of a Jutland peasant, with a large broad sword in his hand, sprang forward, and placed himself between the Marsk and the fugitives.

"Keep ye to me!" shouted the man. "It was I--it was Mads Jyde who shot. I mean not to show a pair of clean heels: let the maidens flee, they have done no ill, but I am the man who dares tilt with ye all." So saying, he brandished his sword wildly around, and wounded the Marsk's horse on the muzzle. The animal reared and snorted.

"Yield thee!" shouted Oluffsen, vainly aiming to strike his daring and gigantic foe; "Yield thee captive, or thou diest!"

On hearing this affray, the king would instantly have hastened to the spot, where he saw swords glittering among the bushes in the moonshine; but Aage and the Swedish knight sought to detain him, while Count Henrik immediately surrounded the copse with the huntsmen, and dispatched a party of them after the fugitives. The Marsk had sprung from his intractable steed, "Cast thy sword from thee, stupid devil! Seest thou not thou art caught?" shouted he to the tall Jutlander.

"By St. Michael will I not," retorted the man. "None shall take Marsk Stig's squire alive; keep but your ground, Sir Knight, and thou shalt feel what Mads Jyde is worth." He now rushed frantically upon the Marsk, but the warlike chief was his superior in swordsmanship, and after a short but desperate fight the Jutlander fell, with his skull cloven, to the ground. He half-raised himself again, and tried to lift both his hands to his wounded head. "It was for thee, little Margaret," he gasped forth; "let but my master's children flee, and you are free to----" More he was unable to utter; his hands dropped from his head, and he fell back lifeless on the ground.

Meanwhile the king and his train had ridden to the spot. Some of the hunters had overtaken the fugitive maidens, and brought them captive into the circle of the king's train. All looked at them with surprise, for as they stood there in the moonshine they had the air of princesses in disguise. Their peasant's attire could not hide the delicate fairness of their complexions and their singular beauty. The taller of the two, who seemed also to be the elder, held the lesser and highly agitated maiden by the hand, as if to protect her. She was herself calm and pale. She looked in deep sorrow on the dead body of the man at arms, and appeared not to heed the standers by. The younger maiden seemed to be both frightened and curious. Though she could not be considered a child--for she appeared to be about seventeen or eighteen years of age--her deportment was quite childlike. She hid herself, weeping, behind her sister, from the sight of the king and his knights, while she nevertheless occasionally peeped, with looks of eager observation, at their splendid attire.

"Speak out--who are ye?" asked the king, riding up to them.

The younger maiden drew back, and seemed preparing for flight, but the elder held her fast by the hand, and turned to the king, with calm self-possession, looking him steadily in the face with her large dark blue eyes. "King Eric Ericson," she said, "thine enemy's children are in thine hand: we are fatherless and persecuted maidens; no one dares to give us shelter in our native land; and our last friend and protector hath now been slain by thy men. Our father was the unhappy outlawed Marsk Stig."

"Marsk Stig's daughters!--the regicide's children!" interrupted the king, casting on them a look of displeasure. "Ye meant then to have completed your father's crime? Are ye roaming the country round with robbers and regicides?"

"We are innocent, King Eric!" answered the maiden, laying her hand upon her heart. "May the Lord as surely forgive thee our father's death, and the blood which flows here! Vengeance belongeth to the Lord. We wished but to quit thy kingdom."

"And ye would also have me depart this world," interrupted the king. "They must be taken to Kallundborg castle," said he to the huntsmen. "The affair shall be inquired into; if they can clear themselves they may leave the kingdom. Away with them; I will not look on them." So saying, the king turned his horse's head to avoid the sight of the fair unfortunate, who for an instant appeared to have softened his wrath.

No one had viewed the captive maidens with more compassion than Drost Aage. "My liege," said he, in an under tone, "how could the innocent maidens help----?"

"That the arrow slew none of us?" interrupted the king hastily. "I dare say they were not to blame for that. Wolf's cubs should never be trusted; they shall meet with their deserts. Away with them."

"Then permit me to escort them, my liege," resumed Drost Aage. "If a knight's daughters be led to prison, knightly protection is still owing them on their way thither."

"Well, go with them, Drost," answered the king aloud, waving his hand as he spoke. "They shall be treated with all chivalrous deference and honour; ye will be answerable for them on your honour and fealty." The king then put spurs into his impatient steed, and galloped off, followed by the Marsk, the Swedish knights, and the whole of the train, with the exception of Drost Aage and four huntsmen.

The elder of the captive maidens still held her sister's hand clasped in her own. She had approached the body of the slain squire, beside which she knelt, bending over his head. Drost Aage had dismounted from his horse, and stood close by with the bridle in his hand, and with his arm on the saddle-bow. It seemed as though the sight of the kneeling maiden had changed him into a statue.

The restless movements of the younger maiden did not attract his attention; his gaze dwelt only on the kneeling form: she seemed in his eyes as an angel of love and pity praying for the sinner's soul. He observed a tear trickle down her fair pale cheek, and could no longer restrain the expression of his sympathy. "Be comforted, noble maiden!" he exclaimed, with emotion; "no evil shall befall you. The man you mourn for may perhaps have been true and faithful to you, but (were he not struck with sudden madness) he fell here as a great criminal. Carry the dead man to Esrom," he said to two of the huntsmen; "entreat the abbot in my name to grant him Christian burial, and sing a mass for his soul." They instantly obeyed, and bore away the body. The kneeling maiden arose.

"Let me provide for your safety," continued Aage. "Ere your case has been inquired into according to law, you cannot quit the kingdom; but I pledge my word and honour King Eric will never permit your father's guilt to make him forget what is due to your rank and sex."

"If we are really your prisoners. Sir Knight," said the elder sister, "then, in the name of our blessed Lady, lead us to our prison; promise me only that you will not separate us, and that you will not be severe to my poor sister."

"Neither for yourself nor for your sister, noble maiden, need you fear aught like harsh treatment; and if you, as I hope and believe, can justify yourselves, your captivity will assuredly not be a long one."

"Our life and freedom are in the Lord's hand--not in man's," said the eldest sister, in a tone of resignation. "In this world we have now no friends. Our father's meanest squire sacrificed his life for us; he whom he made a knight forsook us in the hour of need," she added in a low voice.

Drost Aage now gazed with increased sympathy on the calm pale maiden, and was cut to the heart by the expression of dignified sorrow in her countenance, called forth by the consciousness of her desolate condition.

"I will be your friend and protector so long as I live!" he exclaimed with visible emotion. "That I pledge myself to be on my knightly word and honour."

"The Lord and our dear blessed Lady reward you for that," answered the fair captive. "You seem to wish us well; but if you are King Eric's friend, you must certainly hate us for our father's sake."

"Assuredly I am King Eric's friend!" said Aage, the blood mounting to his cheek as he spoke, "but I cannot therefore hate you. If you, as I fully believe, are innocent of what hath just now happened, as a knight and as a Christian also I owe you and all the defenceless friendly consolation and protection."

The horses of the two huntsmen who had quitted the party had been meanwhile led forward, and had their saddles arranged so as to admit of the maidens riding without danger or difficulty. The younger sister was first mounted. She had not as yet uttered a word, but had gazed restlessly around, occupied apparently in forming conjectures of the most contradictory nature. At one moment she appeared dejected and ready to weep, at another her bright eyes sparkled with animation, and she seemed to meditate a venturous flight, while the next she looked with an air of queen-like authority at the courteous young knight and the two huntsmen, as if she had but to command to be obeyed. It was not until she was firmly seated in the saddle, with the bridle in her hand, that she seemed fearless and at her ease. "Let us speed on then," she said with sportive gaiety.

"What though full small the palfreys be, 'Tis better to ride than on foot to flee."

"If this knight is our guardian and protector, it is of course his duty to defend us. At a royal castle, besides, they must know how to give us royal entertainment."

"We wend not to yon dark castle as honoured guests," replied her sister; "but keep up thy spirits, Ulrica, all the hairs of our head are numbered." So saying, she allowed herself to be placed on horseback; and Drost Aage was presently riding between his two fair captives through Esrom forest, followed by the two huntsmen.

CHAP. IV.

The party rode on for some time in silence and at an easy pace through the dusky forest. The elder sister sat with drooping head, and seemed lost in melancholy thought; but on reaching an open place in the forest, from whence they had an unclouded view of the star-lit heavens, she looked up, and the star-light seemed to be reflected in her soft blue eye, while her countenance was irradiated by an expression of that inward peace which springs from the stedfast hope of a blessed immortality. "God's heaven is vast, and beautiful, and calm, indeed," she exclaimed, in a gently tremulous tone. "In God's kingdom above no one is outlawed or persecuted."

"And no soul shut out from love and mercy," added the young Drost, painfully reminded of his separation from the church, which he felt but too deeply; "yet, even here, noble lady!" he continued, with calmness--"even here, God's kingdom can and will come to us--that we daily pray for. But what avails it, that we look for the peace of Heaven ere we have it within our own hearts! It is my belief that God's kingdom may be found every where."

"Assuredly you are right," said the gentle maiden, regarding him with friendly sympathy; "you must likewise have known what sorrow is, noble knight! but Christ and our blessed Lady have given you the grace to overcome evil with good. This I can see in your eyes, and hear in your voice, though you are a brave and redoubted knight."

"Would you were right touching _such_ victory, noble maiden!" answered Aage, "but evil is so mighty in the world, that no knight should vaunt himself of having overcome it; the noblest of monarchs overcomes not evil in his own kingdom, and scarcely even in his own heart."

"Yes, in his own heart he surely must!" said the maiden; "but you are right after all, the power belongs not to man." They rode on for another hour in silence, and drew near to Esrom monastery.

"The young King Eric looked as though he were good," resumed the elder maiden, at length; "sternly as he spoke to us, I still could not fear him; and our just rights he would not deny us; only thus doth anger beseem a king."

"My liege and sovereign is impetuous," said Aage; "he is strict, but just; and there is assuredly no knight in Christendom who more faithfully observes all the noble laws of chivalry."

"If that be true," exclaimed the maiden, with a suppressed sigh, "then I am thankful even for the misfortune which now brings us this way; had I even been myself the cause of our faithful foster-father's death," she added, after a pause, "his blood will nevertheless not be upon my head."

"How mean ye, noble maiden?" asked Aage, starting. "I understand you not."

"Had my father's faithful squire but hit the mark he aimed at," answered the maiden, "you and all King Eric's faithful friends would now have had more to sorrow for than we. His arrow never missed the eagle in his flight"--she paused, as if hesitating to say more: "yet you shall know it," she continued--"had not my sister shrieked, had I not clung to the archer's arm, he would surely have been alive and safe among us at this moment, while ye wept the death of your liege and sovereign. But praised be St. Cecilia! it were better it chanced as it did, were even King Eric not so good and just as you say he is."

"Assuredly, noble maiden!" exclaimed Aage, in astonishment, "you have been the means of averting the greatest misery: knew ye that miscreant's intention?"

"I knew he had sworn the king's death, for our father's sake, and that he would keep his vow. He meant to flee with us out of the country; but when the hunting train approached, we hid ourselves: he recognised the king, and instantly seized the cross-bow"--she stopped and burst into tears.

"You have followed a fearful guide," said Aage, in a low voice; "weep not for his death. Although you knew his fell purpose, your soul hath been rescued from sharing his crime, and the king hath to thank you for his life. Yet would you had been ignorant of that madman's purpose! Such dangerous information you should never have confided to me."

"Why, then, did you question me of it, Sir Knight!"

The colour mounted to Aage's cheek, and he paused for a moment. "A crazed murderer was, then, your only friend and protector," he resumed; "his accursed scheme of revenge could not have been frustrated had you not known it! Had you but other witnesses, besides yourself and your sister, of your conduct towards him! yet, I dare confirm your testimony with my blood, and with my sword: be comforted! With the Lord's blessing, you shall never need to fly from Denmark;--instead of the captivity to which I am now forced to lead you, my just sovereign owes you thanks and honour."

"That we can never look for from King Eric," answered Margaretha; "all doors and all hearts here are now shut against Marsk Stig's children; if the king will but grant us permission to quit the country, we will thank him, and pray for him in our exile. The world is wide, and there are Christian souls in other lands also."

"Courage, Margaretha!" exclaimed the youngest sister, who had listened with eager interest and sparkling eyes. "If King Eric be as just and chivalrous a prince as he looks to be, and as this good knight says he is, there cannot be the least doubt that he must acquit us, and restore to us our inheritance, with royal compensation for all we have lost."

"Alas, dear sister!" answered Margaretha, in a melancholy and beseeching tone, "gold and lands cannot replace what we have lost. The happiness and honour which this world and its rulers can give us we should no longer seek, but rather aspire to higher blessings."

"You hear, Sir Knight! that my pious sister is already half nun and saint," said the younger sister, gaily playing with a sparkling rosary of rubies and diamonds, which she had until now concealed under her neck-kerchief. "If you will defend our cause like a brave knight, she will assuredly pray piously for you in a nunnery; but if I ever come, by your help, to the station which is my birthright, I will not forget you either in my prosperity."

Drost Aage was startled; he bowed courteously, in answer to this address, while he turned his horse aside in silence, leaving the sisters to ride side by side.

"Hush, hush, good Ulrica!" whispered Margaretha, who glowed crimson at her sister's speech; "thou knowest not thyself what thou sayest, but it doth disgrace us in the eyes of the stranger knight."

"I know well enough what I say," answered the capricious maiden, with a scornful toss of the head, "and if _thou_ wilt not vaunt thyself of our high descent, depend on it, _I_ will; charity begins at home, and I have often heard that no knight's daughter in Denmark's kingdom hath ever had a greater man for a father."

"Alas! that greatness is our misfortune," said Margaretha, with a sigh; "dearest sister, repeat not to any human being what you have just now said! Ask not my reasons! I can never tell them thee; but thank God thou knowest not all!"

"Art thou beginning with thy riddles again?" said her sister, pettishly, as she looked inquisitively at her; "what in all the world canst _thou_ know, which _I_ know not. If thou wilt not confide every thing to me, when we two are alone, I will never more be so foolishly fond of thee. Thou art, indeed, quite insufferable at times, however pious and excellent thou may'st be."

While this little dispute was passing between the sisters, Aage's attention was diverted from them by the sound of the tramping of horses' hoofs, and of loud talk. They were just then passing the gate of Esrom monastery, from whence a party of richly attired knights rode forth, with some ecclesiastics among them. It was Prince Christopher and the Margrave of Brandenborg, with the Swedish Drost Bruncke and the Abbot of Esrom, who, with several priests and knights, accompanied a tall ecclesiastic of foreign appearance, and wearing the red hat of a cardinal. Aage instantly recognised the papal nuncio, Cardinal Isarnus. The sight of this powerful prelate inspired Aage with a feeling akin to dread, and with a presentiment of coming evil, he was, besides, ill-pleased to see him in Prince Christopher's company; he desired not to encounter them, and would have hastily turned into a bye-road, but the unusual sight of two peasant girls on horseback, accompanied by a knight and two of the king's huntsmen, had already attracted the prince's attention; he hastily rode up, followed by two knights, to ascertain who they were.

"Ha! indeed! Drost Aage," said the prince, in a scornful tone, "the preacher of our strict laws of chivalry, are ye carrying off _two_ pretty maidens at once? I think you might content yourself with one--if I see aright, these fair ones are of a somewhat higher class than they care to pass for; speak, who are they?"

"The unfortunate daughters of Marsk Stig, noble junker!" answered Aage; "I am escorting them, by the king's orders, as state prisoners, to Kallundborg."

"The viper brood of the regicide!" exclaimed the prince, while a dark crimson hue suddenly overspread his countenance. "Well! this is an excellent capture. Throw them into the subterranean dungeon; they shall never more see the light of day."

The younger sister shrieked in alarm at this wild threat, but the elder made a sign to her to be silent, and endeavoured to tranquillize her fears.

"They are to be treated with justice, and with all chivalrous deference and honour," answered Aage, calmly; "such is my sovereign's will and express command, which I shall punctually obey."

"_I_ am governor of Kallundborg, Drost!" called the prince, in wrath; "the state prisoners sent thither are under my control. Ride with them, Palle! give my orders to the jailor! you are answerable for their being obeyed!" He now said a few words to one of his train, but in so low a tone as to be unheard by every one else, and then turned his horse, and rode back to his party. Each now pursued their separate road, but the knight who had received the prince's private orders joined Drost Aage and his prisoners.

This unwelcome companion was a fat, short-necked personage, with a repulsive expression in his crimson-coloured full-moon visage. He was generally called the rich Sir Palle, and made himself conspicuous by the costly, but not tasteful, splendour of his dress and riding accoutrements, which he prided himself on being able to compare in value with the king's. He sought by an affectation of youthful gaiety to conceal his age, which very closely bordered on fifty. He was still a bachelor, but was an unwearied wooer, and greatly desired to pass for a doughty knight, and an irresistible invader of the hearts of the fair of every rank. He was not liked by the king, but was a hanger-on of Prince Christopher, to whom he was appointed gentleman of the bed-chamber. He was in bad repute among the lower class, on account of several adventures, little creditable to himself, which were circulated throughout the country in satirical ballads. He rode for some time in silence by Drost Aage's side, apparently annoyed at being despatched on this unlooked-for errand. Aage was silent also, and pursued the journey without noticing him.

"My presence is troublesome to you, perhaps, Sir Drost!" exclaimed Palle, at last breaking silence. "This mission is not to my taste either. The prince was in his stern mood to-day; when that is the case he will not bear contradiction, or I should gladly have begged to decline the journey. Where _you_ act in the king's name, I well know that _I_, as the junker's deputy, might just as well be absent."

"Truly, I think so likewise, Sir Palle!" answered Aage, in a tone of indifference, as he quickened his horse's pace.

"It is all one to me whether your captives receive hard or gentle treatment," continued Sir Palle; "but if I bring not my lord's commands to the jailor at Kallundborg, you see yourself, I shall draw down the junker's wrath upon me, and that I have no mind to do for the sake of a couple of vagabonds."

"Perhaps you heard not what I told the prince of the name and rank of these ladies?" asked Aage, measuring his rude companion with a look of defiance, while he slackened his horse's pace; "even without regard to their birth, you owe them respect, as honourable Danish maidens, and for the present moment I am their protector against every insult."

"Ho, ho! you are somewhat hasty, Sir Drost!" answered Palle, "who thinks of insulting the pretty maidens? what though they may have scoured the country round, without stockings and shoes, they should not be thought the less of for that; they are now going to be led, according to their rank, to an honourable state prison. I perceive the fair prisoners have already captured our chivalrous Drost, by way of reprisal."

Drost Aage coloured deeply at this jeering speech. "By your leave, Sir Palle!" he said, with suppressed wrath, "here lies the road to Kallundborg; it is long and broad enough for us all, and we need not be troublesome to each other; if ye will ride on before or follow behind, we will accommodate ourselves accordingly; but if you desire to honour us any longer with your company, you must behave courteously, or you understand me----." He struck on the hilt of his sword, and was silent.