Part 5

"Sire, you know that I am innocent in this matter, and that I have always been obedient to you. Let me not suffer for my father's fault, but, since I am his true heir, let me pay the homage and allegiance which he refuses, and grant that I may atone for him by a life of devotion and service in your cause. And for your messengers, I will from this moment do all in my power to recompense them for the cruel indignities they have suffered at my father's hands, if you will but spare my life and use it in your service."

Then all the barons began to beg the King to grant the boy's request; and in the midst of the discussion a mounted knight rode into the hall, crying:

"Tidings, my lord King! Ill tidings for us all! The Soudan and the Grand Turk and Dannemont his son, with the help of King Caraheu, have taken Rome by storm, and Pope, cardinals, and all have fled. The churches are destroyed; the Christians put to the sword. Wherefore, as a Christian king and pillar of the Faith, I summon you to march to the aid of Holy Church."

Then, as all was bustle and confusion in preparing a great army to take the field immediately, Duke Naymes prevailed upon Charles to let him take young Olger to the battle as his squire, promising to give all his lands, and himself as prisoner, to the Emperor, if the boy should flee away. So Charles agreed, and hastened to prepare for the fight, swearing that he would not return to his own land till Rome should be restored to the Christians. The first thing Olger did when he recovered his freedom, was to hasten back to the castle and wed the fair Bellisande; and when she wept at losing her young husband so soon, he comforted her, and said: "Weep not, for God has given me life and you have given me love--and these two gifts will strengthen me to do great feats of arms."

So Olger rode off with the host, following the standard of Duke Naymes and his two brothers, Geoffrey and Gautier. And they marched till they came to Rome, and took their station on a hill before the city with an army of two hundred thousand men.

Then the host of paynims came forth from the city to the battle; and Olger, hearing the din of war, the neighing of horses, and the shouting of men, longed to dash into the thick of the fight; but his master forbade him, and charged him to remain among the tents.

From this position Olger watched with wild anxiety the standard of King Charles as it waved in the forefront of the battle. He saw the armies come together and heard a crash that rent the sky. Then the standard waved in triumph; but suddenly it fell--then rose again; and anon he saw with horror that the band of the Emperor's chosen knights had been repulsed, and that Sir Alory, the standard-bearer, had turned his horse, and was fleeing for his very life. In a moment Olger had rushed down the slope, and, flinging himself on the bridle of Sir Alory's horse, he snatched the standard from his hand, crying: "Coward, go home with all the speed you may, and live among women for the rest of your life, but leave the noble banner, Refuge of France, with me."

The terrified Alory was easily disarmed; and Olger, ordering a squire to dress him in the standard-bearer's armour, sprang on a horse and, sword in one hand and banner in the other, rushed into the thick of the fight.

He soon found that Duke Naymes and many other nobles had been held prisoners behind the array of the paynims, and, with the fierceness of a young lion, he cut his way through to them, freed their bonds with his sword, and forced a way through the enemy both for himself and for them. And wherever he appeared among the heathen host, he slew so many that he was protected, as it were, by a rampart of the dead. Presently he heard the King cry loudly for help, and, spurring in the direction of the sound, found that Dannemont had killed his horse under him, and that he was down, and hard pressed on every side. Then Olger, waving the standard on high, rushed upon the paynim, and soon cleared a free space about the King, and mounted him on a fresh horse. And in the same way on three separate occasions he saved the life of Charles. At length, with Olger at their head and the battle-cry of "Montjoy" on their lips, the King and his host drove the paynims back to the city gates.

When the fight was over, the Emperor Charles ordered the standard-bearer to be brought before him; and when Olger appeared, with his visor closed, he thought it had been Alory, and said to him: "Alory, though with grief I saw you flee at the onset, you have most nobly redeemed your honour. Three times have you saved my life, and I know not how to reward you fitly. I will make you ruler of any province you may choose in my kingdom, and you shall be my lieutenant, and fight in my quarrel in all disputes touching the crown of France."

But a squire who stood by spoke up, and said: "Sire, this is not that Alory of whom you speak. He bowed the colours, and fled for his life, at the first onset; but this young knight seized the standard from his hands, while I helped to dress him in Alory's armour; but who he is I know not."

Then Olger took off his helmet, and knelt down, and said: "Have pity, sire, on Godfrey, King of Denmark, and let his son atone for his offence and be your faithful vassal in his stead."

And the Emperor embraced him, and said: "You have changed all former hate into love for you. I give you your request. Rise, Sir Olger, Champion for France and Charles, and God be with you."

Thus Olger became a knight, and all the nobles of France came to salute him and thank him for their deliverance. On the next day, proud in his new-made knighthood, Olger once more bore the standard against the foe, and the paynims fell like corn before the scythe wherever he appeared. And when the Franks began to waver, then there rode into their midst a knight on a great horse, who did such mighty deeds on their behalf that they knew him for their Champion, and crying: "Olger! Olger the Dane!" they made many a mighty charge upon the foe.

When Sadonne, the paynim general, heard that the tide of battle was going against his army, he rode forth to meet his followers with the news that Caraheu, Emperor of India, with thirty kings, was coming to their aid. But soon he met the whole array fleeing, panic-stricken, towards him in full flight, and crying, "Save yourselves, for Michael the Archangel fights against us!" Then, before Sadonne had time to flee, his path was crossed by the dread knight on the great horse, and at once he threw down his arms, and begged for life.

"What is your name?" said Sir Olger.

"I am Sadonne," answered he, "the general of Caraheu, Emperor of India."

"On one condition only will I grant you your life," said Sir Olger: "You must bear to Caraheu my challenge to fight with me in single combat, so that by this the course of the war may be determined."

So Sadonne departed, and next day Caraheu arrived at the pavilion of Charles the Emperor with a gorgeous retinue, and with him he brought the beautiful Gloriande, the fairest lady in all the Eastern world. Her hair was like spun gold, and fell to her feet like a cloak. It was bound about her temples by a jewelled circlet of the rarest gems, and her dress, of whitest damask sewn with pearls, had taken full nine years to weave.

Then Caraheu the Emperor said: "I am in search of Olger the Dane, who has demanded single combat with me. His challenge I accept, and fair Gloriande, my promised bride, shall be the victor's prize."

But Charlot, son of the Emperor Charles, looked with envy on Olger, and said: "'Tis meet that you, great Caraheu, should fight, not with my father's bondsman, but with me."

"Not I," replied the Emperor. "I fight not with braggarts, but with men. Sir Olger rules the hearts of men, which is nobler far than ruling over lands."

"Nay, Emperor," said Olger modestly; "Charlot here is the Emperor's son, and worthy to fight with the highest."

"Let him fight with Sadonne, my general," said Caraheu. "I will joust only with you."

So a double combat was arranged, and Gloriande sat in a place from which she could strengthen the combatants with the glances of her bright eyes. For half a day they fought without either getting the upper hand, until Sadonne killed Charlot's horse, and courteously leapt from his own in order to fight upon equal terms. But the base-minded Charlot only pretended to fight until he reached the place where Sadonne's steed was standing, and, leaping on it, he rode away, like a coward and recreant knight.

Meantime the good sword of Caraheu had cut through Sir Olger's shield and armour, and would have done worse harm had not the knight with his great strength dragged Caraheu from his horse, and disarmed him. But Dannemont, the paynim, had hidden three hundred men among the bushes of that place to see how the combat went. And when he saw Caraheu at Olger's mercy, he rushed forth at the head of his men, and began to attack the knight. In vain did Caraheu rail at them for their treachery, and fight with all his strength on Olger's side, crying: "Shame on ye, traitors! Better death than this!" Numbers overpowered them, and Olger's life was only saved at the request of the fair Gloriande. He was loaded with chains, and thrown into a dungeon, in spite of all that Caraheu could say or do on his behalf. At length, angry and disgusted at this foul blot on his honour, the latter left the paynim army, and went over with all his men to the side of the Emperor Charles, determined to go on fighting against the paynim until Olger was delivered. But Gloriande, who, according to the fairy gift, had loved Olger from the first moment she saw him, went in secret to his prison, loosed his chains, and let him escape to the camp of Charles. Then Charles and Olger and Caraheu joined together against the paynim host, and ere long Rome was freed from her enemies. Then Olger rescued Gloriande, and gave her to Caraheu to be his wife. In Rome were they baptised and married, and returned to India a Christian man and woman. But ere he departed, he gave to Olger his famous sword, Courtain, saying: "My life and my bride both have you won, and both you have given back to me; take, therefore, this sword as a pledge that I owe all to you."

II. The Vengeance of Olger

When Olger returned to France he found that his wife was dead. This grieved him very sorely, but he was comforted somewhat by the sight of the little son who had been born to him meantime. And he called his name Baldwin.

Now, at this time the paynims had come down upon Denmark, and had harried all the land. And they shut up King Godfrey in his own castle, and besieged it so that he nearly died of famine. Then the Queen said: "Surely this trouble is come upon us for Olger's sake, whom we left to die." And they began to repent of their wickedness, until at length, becoming very low and miserable, they sent a message to King Charles, begging him to forgive them, and to send them help. But the Emperor replied: "No! Since Godfrey holds his lands of God and of his good sword, let him hold them. I will not lift a hand to help him." Then he sent for Olger, and said: "You would not wish to help a traitor--one, too, who left you to die for his crimes?" But Olger knelt before the King, and said: "Sire, as vassal I kneel here before my King; but Godfrey is my father, and my duty is to go to his aid. Surely the King will not forbid a son his duty!"

Then Charles was moved, and said: "Go; but go alone, save with your body-servants. No man of mine shall fight in the cause of a rebel and traitor."

Then Olger hurried to his father's castle with thirty of his men; but ere he could reach it, King Godfrey had been slain by his foes, and they were even then fighting over his body when Olger rode up.

It was not long before Olger, with his good sword Courtain, had scattered these paynims far and wide, and soon after they left the country in despair of conquering such a hero. Then Olger was made King of Denmark, and ruled there for five years; and when he had settled the land and made good laws, he returned to the Emperor Charles, and, kneeling before him, said: "The son of Godfrey, of his own free will, thus pays homage to King Charles for all the land of Denmark."

The King embraced him warmly at these words, and begged him to remain as long as possible at the Frankish Court. Now, one day the little Baldwin, Olger's son, a fair-headed child whom all good men looked upon with favour, was playing chess with Charlot, son of the Emperor; and it came to pass that, having quickly given "fool's mate" to the prince, the boy began to laugh at him for his bad play.

Then Charlot, who had always hated Olger, and was jealous of young Baldwin, took up the heavy chessboard, and beat the child on the head, so that he fell lifeless to the ground.

When Olger returned from the hunt and found his little son lying dead, he was beside himself with grief. He covered the child with tears and kisses, and then, making his way to the Emperor's presence, he laid the boy before his throne, saying:

"Sire, look upon your son's foul deed."

The Emperor was sorely grieved; but he tried to comfort Olger, saying he would give half his kingdom if it would bring the child to life again, but that he knew well that nothing could make up for such a loss.

Then Olger said very sternly: "There is no compensation, but there is punishment to be given. Grant me now to fight with your son, and so avenge my poor child's death."

"Nay," said the Emperor; "for how, then, could he have a chance of life?"

"What matters that?" cried Olger, with bitter look. "What is your son more than mine? I demand that he be given up to me."

"I cannot do it," said the Emperor.

"Then," cried Olger in great wrath, "till you learn justice, sire, we part company." And forthwith he left the Court, and took service with a Lombard king who was fighting against King Charles.

For the next few years Olger the Dane won great renown by his warfare against the Franks, for wherever he went he was always the victor, and his enemies began to look upon his good sword Courtain, and Broiefort, his great black steed, with awe and terror. Many of the Franks said openly, that to let Olger depart and to make him their foe, had been no wise deed, for he came upon them like a blight upon the summer corn. At length they made a plot against him, and determined to get the better of him by foul treachery. So they watched him privily, and found him one day, tired out with fighting, lying fast asleep by a fountain, with his arms scattered far and wide, and his good steed Broiefort grazing peacefully by his side. Then one seized his horse, and another his weapons, and they bound him fast while he still lay sound asleep.

When Sir Olger was brought to the Court as a prisoner, the Emperor wished to slay him, because he feared the vengeance of Olger on his son, and in return for the harm he had done to the Frankish cause. But the knights and barons would not hear of this, saying that they had lent themselves to treachery to save their native land, but that the life of the noblest knight in Christendom should not be lost thereby. So he was put into prison, and kept under a strong guard for several years.

Now, after these days did Achar, King of England, land in France to do homage to the Emperor for his lands; and with him came his fair daughter Clarice. But as he journeyed to the Court a certain Saracen giant named Bruhier arrived with a great army to make war upon the Franks, and he seized the persons of Achar and his daughter, and marched to fight against the Emperor. And so great was the power of this giant that the Frankish army could not stand before him, but fled before his face. Then the barons and knights began to implore Charles to release Olger from his prison and prevail on him to fight for them, and forthwith the Emperor went himself ta the prison to implore his aid. But Olger would not listen for a moment to this proposal, unless the Emperor would first deliver Charlot the prince into his hands. For a long time the Emperor would not agree to this; but at length his whole army reproached him, saying: "Have you no care for us that you let us die by thousands in a hopeless fight? Why should a thousand die for one?"

So Charles was forced to deliver up his son.

Then, as Charlot begged and prayed for mercy, Olger thought only of his fair-haired little boy, and, taking the prince by the hair, raised Courtain to strike off his head. But as he did so a voice from the air cried: "Stay thy hand, Olger the Dane! Slay not the son of the King!" and at the same moment vivid flashes of lightning came about them both. Then the sword fell from Olger's hand, and all who had heard the voice trembled and greatly feared. The King, in his joy at the deliverance of his son, would have poured out his gratitude to the Dane; but Olger only said: "Your thanks are due to God, not to me. I do but bow to His will." And that day the King and Olger were made friends.

But when the Dane would have made ready to fight against the Saracen, he found that nothing had been heard or seen of his good horse Broiefort for seven long years, and all men believed him to be dead. The Emperor sent him his best charger in his stead, but scarcely had the knight leaped into the saddle when the creature fell beneath his weight. Ten other of the finest horses in the land were tried, and, finding that none could carry him, Olger declared that he must go afoot. But a certain man was found who said he had seen the horse Broiefort dragging blocks of stone for the building of the Abbey of St Meaux, and immediately a little band rode off to bring the horse back to his master. They found him but skin and bone, his hair worn off his sides, his tail shorn to the stump, his skin galled by the shafts, a very scarecrow of a horse, yet dragging a load that four other horses could not stir. They brought him to Olger with all speed; and when the sturdy knight leaned upon him, he did not cringe under the weight, but straightened himself, and, knowing his master, snorted and neighed with joy, and pawed the ground, and knelt down humbly before him on the grass.

So Olger went to battle upon Broiefort, and wherever he went he won the day. He slew the giant Bruhier, drove the Saracen from the land, and rescued King Achar, and his daughter Clarice, whom the King of Britain gave him for his wife. And when they were married, they crossed the sea, and Achar made Olger King of Britain in his stead. For many years he ruled this country, and there his faithful Broiefort died and was buried. At length he grew weary of peace, and went to fight for the Holy Cross in Palestine; and there he fought many a hard battle, and won many a victory, till he was old and grey with years. Then he left the Holy Land, and set sail for France that he might see Charles the Great and his Court once more before he returned to Britain, there to end his days.

But on that journey there came upon them a great storm; and the tempestuous wind drove the ship in which Olger was far away from the rest, into strange seas, without rudder, oars, or mast; and a strong current seized the vessel, and crashed it against a reef of loadstone rock. All who were on board leaped into the waves, and were soon dashed lifeless against the beach; only Sir Olger remained upon the deck in the black darkness, gazing out upon the stormy sea. He bared his head, and, drawing Courtain, kissed the crossed hilt, and thanked God for the courage given him as a soldier all his life, and then quietly awaited death.

III. The Return from Avalon

Darker and wilder grew the night, when, just as the waves seemed about to overwhelm the ship, a voice from the air cried, clear and strong: "Olger, I wait for thee. Come, and fear not the waves." And immediately he cast himself into the sea, and was borne on the crest of a great billow high up in the air, and placed in safety among the rocks. A weird light shone through the gloom, and showed a narrow pathway through the crags, and, following this, Olger presently saw a brilliant glow in front of him, which gradually took the shape of a shining palace, which none can see by day, but which at nightfall glows with unearthly splendour. Its walls were of ivory, inlaid with gold and ebony, and within its spacious hall was set a most rare banquet upon a golden table. But the only inhabitant of the palace was a fairy horse named Papillon, who signed to Olger to seat himself at the banquet, and brought him water in a golden pitcher for his hands, and served him at table while he ate. When he had finished, Papillon carried him off to a bed, in the pillars of which stood golden candlesticks, wherein wax tapers burned the whole night through.

So Olger slept; but when he awoke next day, the fairy palace had vanished in the morning light, and he found himself lying in a fair garden, where the trees were always green and the flowers unfading and the summer never comes to an end, where no storm ever darkens the sweet, soft sky, and the chill of sunset is not known. For it was a garden in the vale of Avalon, in Fairyland.

And as he gazed around him, greatly wondering, there appeared at his side Morgan le Fay, Queen of the Fairies, clothed in shining white apparel, and said to him: "Welcome, dear knight, to Avalon. Long have I waited and wearied for your coming. Now you are mine for ever. The ages may roll away, and the world fall to pieces; we will dream for ever in this vale, where all things are the same." Then she put an enchanted ring on his finger, and immediately he became a youth again, beautiful and vigorous. And on his head she placed a crown of myrtle leaves and laurel, all in gold; and Olger remembered no more his former life, for she had given him the Crown of Forgetfulness.

So Olger sojourned in that fair land; and there he met and talked with King Arthur, healed now of his mortal wound, and the forms of Sir Lancelot and Sir Tristram and of many other noble knights of the Table Bound.

And so two hundred years passed by like a beautiful dream.

Meantime sad events had taken place in the land of France. No great leader had arisen after Charles the Great, and the land had fallen into poverty and shame. Everywhere the Franks were beaten back by Paynim and by Saracen, and chivalry seemed lost for ever. In vain the people cried out for a deliverer; and at length Morgan le Fay heard and pitied them. So she went to Olger the Dane, and said to him:

"Dear knight, how long have you dwelt here with me?"

"It may be a week, a month, or perchance a year," he answered, smiling, "for I have lost all count of time."

Then Morgan le Fay lifted the Crown of Forgetfulness from his brows, and at once his memory came to him again.

"I must go back," he cried, as though awaking from sleep. "Too long have I tarried here. Clarice will be calling for me, and Charles, my master, will have summoned Olger in vain. Where is my sword, my horse! Now let me go, fair queen, but tell me first how long I have dwelt here."

"It seems not long to me, dear knight," said she; "but you shall go when you will."

Then Morgan le Fay brought to life again his dead squire Benoist, and brought out Courtain, his good sword, and led forth Papillon for his steed. "Keep safe the ring upon your hand," said she, "for so long as you wear it, youth and vigour shall not fail you. And take also this torch, but see you light it not, for so long as it remains unlighted your life is safe; but, if ever it should begin to burn, guard the flame well, for with the last spark of the torch shall your days end."