The broken portal of the old tower in Esdraelon was as the entrance to a dark cavern, and from it came out a wide-winged owl while Ben Ezra was kindling his flame. Away into the darkness fled the bird of night hooting loudly, and the men said to one another:
"We like not these birds. They are of evil omen. They are friendly with bad spirits and the demons have them for their companions."
Ulric the Jarl stood waiting, and he cared not for the owl, but when a torch was handed to him by the Jew he strode forward, looking warily around him as he went, and others followed him closely.
Naught was there to be seen but bare walls of stone and a flight of stone steps that were builded spirally, leading upward.
"O jarl!" suddenly exclaimed Tostig the Red, going past him, sword in hand, "here, also, are other steps. Look! They go down into the under world. Beneath this tower might be vaults and a prison."
"Such places are ever the abode of the evil spirits," said Ben Ezra. "Go not down this at first. It is likely there have been many men slain here, for this tower hath been a place of defense since the old time. It was builded by the Philistines, but the stonework hath been repaired by the kings of the nations who came after them."
Easy it was to obtain enough of fuel for a bright fire upon the stone floor, and the Saxons loved the light of its blaze, although little need was for warmth. There was a well near by, with a bucket for bringing up water and a trough for beasts to drink from. They who planned the tower had provided wisely, but Ben Ezra said of the deep well:
"Many are the demons which dwell in old wells. They entice men to fall in, and they themselves come out to deal evilly with lone wayfarers. Therefore some who encamp by the wells are heard of no more. Only the very learned of the rabbis know how to cast them out. Let us hope that this fountain hath been purified."
"The water is good," said Knud the Bear, "and I was thirsty. The gods make wells."
They ate and drank, and then Ulric the Jarl knew that it was his duty to further explore the tower. He first climbed the stone stairway to the upper part. Here was no roof, and the walls were notched well for bowmen. There was a place, also, for the burning of a beacon light.
"It is a strong tower," said the jarl. "A few men might keep it against many if the portal had a stout gate with arrow holes. We are garrison enough. I will go down."
The stars above were bright, but there was no moon, and nothing could he discern of the plain or of the mountains. He descended the stairway and went to the downward steps, taking a larger torch but asking no company.
"O jarl," said Sigurd, "have a care for thyself. Thou knowest not who may be the god of this place."
"Odin!" laughed Ulric. "Whoever he may be he hath not hindered our coming in. I will see what is below."
None followed him but Tostig the Red, who was ever curious and who had no fear of demons, thinking them of no account.
"O jarl," he said, at the bottom of the steps, "hold up thy torch. This winding stairway hath taken us down two fathoms or more. There is a bad smell. I like it not. I hear something that moveth."
"Help me! For the sake of Jehovah the Blessed!" gasped a human voice not far away. "I perish with thirst. They bound me and left me here to die."
He spoke in the old Hebrew tongue, not unlike the tongue which was commonly spoken in that land, and Ulric answered:
"Who art thou?"
"I am Abbas, the merchant, of Jerusalem," responded the voice. "Water! Water! They were robbers from Mount Gilboa. I was rash, for I had little treasure with me. They got but my ass and a bag of denarii, and they were wroth to have so little. This was their hiding place, but they are gone out for prey."
Over him stood Ulric, holding the torch, while Tostig with his knife cut the hempen fetters and lifted Abbas to his feet. He was naked save a torn tunic, but he did not seem to be wounded. The Saxons above had heard, and a horn of water was brought down by Sigurd, the son of Thorolf, for Ben Ezra was outside of the tower. Abbas drank, gaining strength, and went up the stairway with little help, while Tostig searched that place in vain for anything worth the taking.
"They take their spoils elsewhere," he muttered, "but we will care little for that if Odin hath sent us the slaying of them. I would be glad to kill some robbers."
"Men in Galilee owed me money for merchandise," explained Abbas as he ate. "I came to obtain it, thinking to return in strong company. The Romans make the highways safe to all, and I had no fear. But this band numbereth a score. I think they will return before the morning."
"Put out the fire!" commanded the jarl. "Every man to his spear and shield. We will not let one of them escape. It is evil to leave a man to die of thirst instead of giving him the sword."
"The Romans will thank thee well, O chief of the gladiators," said Abbas. "They have striven to destroy these robbers of Gilboa, but if these are pressed hardly, they flee across the Jordan. They are from the wilderness."
Ben Ezra heard standing in the doorway, and he already knew all. To Ulric he said in the North tongue:
"Beware whom thou slayest. Thou art but a gladiator in this tower. Thou art not here a jarl, to do as thou wilt."
"Ever am I a son of Odin," said Ulric. "I have sold my sword to no man. Who shall stay me from slaying? I will spare not one."
"If thou slayest one, slay all," said Ben Ezra. "There is danger in the enmity of the men of the wilderness. They forget not, and the next of kin may find thee."
"Not if he be wise," said Ulric, but he bade his men lie down and rest, keeping watches.
Then spoke to him the Jew Abbas:
"I will tell thee a thing. Me they may have thought to ransom. I know not. But they will be here at the dawn to lie in wait for a company that cometh from Tiberias with much merchandise. Thou mayest be sure that, if thou slayest them not, then thou and all of thine are to be slain."
"That I may well believe," said the jarl, "but they who slay Saxons may count their men and we will count how many remain."
"So be it," said Abbas. "Thou art a tall one. But thou, Ben Ezra, come hither and commune with me."
So went they apart and they talked much together in the old Hebrew tongue, and it seemed to the jarl that these two Jews might be of kin to each other, so many names did they speak of men and of women and of places.
"I will trust Ben Ezra," he thought, "but of this Abbas I shall know more at another time. I would see the sun upon his face before I can read its meaning."
Then came around him and Sigurd all the other Saxons asking curiously concerning all these things which had taken place. They asked about the tower and the plain and the mountains until they were satisfied.
"Thou art a prudent jarl," said Tostig the Red, "but I would rather fight lions than to be hidden away among the hills like a wolf. Are there not cities to be seen, and wonderful places? I like not deserts."
"We came out to see the world," said Knud the Bear. "O jarl, there might be excellent fighting if we go in the right direction."
"That would please me also," said Wulf the Skater, "and we may begin with these robbers if they are to come upon us. They may be swordsmen."
Other of the vikings spoke strongly, as became warriors, and Ulric saw that they were in earnest. They liked not Gilboa and its caves. They had been shut up on shipboard long and they were in great wonder concerning this country of the Jews.
"Even so am I," Ulric said to them. "We will go on and see cities, as you desire. We will not be Roman soldiers, but there is no disgrace to a Northman in slaying a fighting beast or a fighting man. Only I will serve no master, even though he be a king. I am of Odin."
"We are as thou art in this matter," said the Saxons. "We will serve none save in thy company, but we pray thee lead us into a better place than this tower or a desert."
Now, also, some remembered to speak again of Lysias, the Greek, wondering whether or not he had escaped and where he might be. "Ought we not rather to have slain him?" they said. "Who knoweth what report he may send out concerning us?"
"He will have good care for his own life in that matter," said the jarl. "He will be secret for his own sake. Do ye not also remember that he is a good bowman?"
"I like him for his archery," said Tostig the Red. "I trust that his gods may be with him to help him slay more Romans."
"That seemeth not to be for us," said Knud the Bear. "We are to be friends with them for a season. But I would see a tiger if I may, and also some of these great elephants, which cause me to think of a whale walking upon the land."
"Thou wilt see them at Tiberias if thou goest there," said Ben Ezra; "but be careful of thy speech, for thou art now in a Roman land and thou art but one man. Thou canst not fight a cohort."
"A warrior may be prudent without dishonor," responded Knud. "I like the Romans better, now I have killed so many of them. They are good fighters and they die where they stand, not running away."
So said other of the Saxons, and all slept but the watchers, and the night passed.
It was in the dull hour before the sun's rising that Abbas, the Jew, came to the jarl and touched him, saying:
"Arise, O captain of the Saxons. The sentinel at the roadside needeth thee."
"Stir up the men," spoke Ulric to Sigurd, the son of Thorolf, "but bid them keep in the tower. Come thou unto me at the road."
So went he out and stood by the sentinel, and with them were Ben Ezra and Abbas.
"O jarl," said Wulf the Skater, "I might not leave my post, but I have slain this man that lieth here. What he is I know not, but he crept near me stealthily and I speared him. It was a cast in the dark. He weareth a turban."
"A robber from beyond Jordan," said Abbas stooping. "He is a bowman. Therefore there are others with him. What sayest thou, captain of the Saxons?"
"Let no man speak loudly," said Ulric. "Bring no light. I hear horses. Be ready. Slay all who come, but give no warning."
So did Sigurd, the son of Thorolf, give direction in the tower, and the men were prudent, waiting for what might come. But Sigurd now stood by Ulric and seemed like a giant in the gloom. By him stood another Saxon quickly, and he was lifting his shield when something smote it, making it ring.
"An arrow," he said, "sent strongly. A dozen men, O jarl!"
"Smitten am I!" shouted Sigurd, but he sprang forward swinging his pole ax.
Upon him darkly, suddenly, pressed hard a swarm of men, and they were as locusts crushed by the foot as his ax fell on them.
Ulric stood fast for a moment, but forward with Sigurd went Wulf the Skater full of war wrath. More than one arrow rattled on the shield of the jarl, but he had cast his spear and he was now swinging the long, straight sword of Annibaal, the Carthaginian, for men were upon him and he mowed them as rushes.
"Back to the tower, Ben Ezra!" exclaimed Abbas.
Past Abbas and Ben Ezra charged four Saxons with Knud the Bear; but the two Jews went back to the tower, for they were cunning and they willed not to be discovered by these robbers whose vengeance is forever.
Men half armored, moderate in stature, not expecting great resistance, were without hope in such a fray as this. They were there to be slaughtered, but at a little distance were others who were on horseback. From among these rode one a little nearer, while the others withheld their archery for fear of hitting their own men.
"O Abbas, of Jerusalem!" he shouted. "Would we had slain thee at once! Thou hast betrayed us to the Romans. I will yet have revenge upon thee and upon thy son. Thou art the father of that Bar Abbas that smote me and mine beyond Machærus. May the Romans crucify him!"
Abbas at the tower heard well, but he replied not, and the Saxons were slaying fast the robbers who were on foot. Not one of them escaped, so swiftly fell the steel of the strong ones from the Northland.
Again shouted the man, the robber chief on horseback, shouting to his footmen, but no voice went back to him. Only a spear thrown by Knud the Bear went through him from breast to back and Ulric blew a blast upon his war horn, for he heard a clash of swords behind him.
"It is naught!" shouted Tostig the Red, from the doorway. "We were three and with us were the two Jews. Some thieves who came here are dead, dying easily. Fight on."
Loud were the shouts of wrath among the horsemen, and one was interpreted by Abbas to Ulric:
"He saith 'a Roman garrison is in the tower.' No robber will venture nearer."
"Woe to thee, Abbas!" came fiercely out of the gloom. "Woe to thee and thine! I curse thee by my gods for ever and ever!"
No word spoke Abbas, but the horsemen wheeled and rode away swiftly, while Ulric stooped over one who lay upon the ground.
"O son of Thorolf!" he exclaimed, "I would thou hadst not been smitten."
"That am I," said Sigurd. "The valkyrias have not passed me by. It was the arrow in the dark, and the bowman was near and it pierced my mail."
"Thou didst fight well, being smitten," said Ulric, "for thou art of the heroes."
"Burn me not," said Sigurd, "but bury me by this tower, in my armor, laying my weapons with me. I may need them when I awake among the gods. I know not much of these matters, but I have great curiosity."
"Aye," said Ulric, "and if thou seest Hilda of the hundred years, thou mayest tell her where I am. Speak thou also to my father, to Brander the Brave, the sea king. Tell him I go on to Asgard, and that I have seen one of the gods in this land and that I seek to see him again."
"I also saw him there in the road," said Sigurd. "I think him one of them by his face and by the word of the evil spirits. If thou meetest him again, greet him for me. Give me thy hand, Ulric the Jarl! The valkyrias! Odin!"
Half sprang to his feet the mighty son of Thorolf and he uttered a great cry. Then crashing heavily down he fell prostrate, his shield and his mail clanging. Silently around him stood the Saxons, and one of them said:
"O jarl, so fall we, one by one. I like it not. We shall never again see the Northland. The gods are against us!"
"He died not in his bed," said Knud the Bear. "It is well with him, Jarl Ulric."
"So die I!" exclaimed Wulf the Skater. "Come! Let us dig, for the ravens must not whet their beaks on the bones of the hero."
Therefore, with knives and spearheads and flat stones the Saxons dug a deep hollow in the earth, and into it the sun looked down when he was risen.
"It will do," said Ulric; "but now we will eat and drink. We have slain eighteen of these robbers. I would we had slain them all."
Many coins had been found upon the dead, especially upon him who had been mounted, and all these the jarl divided among the men, Ben Ezra counting for him their value.
"Keep thou some," said Knud the Bear.
"Not so," replied Ulric. "I have enough. I like not too many coins. Ye may need them to buy with. What have I to do with such things?"
"Thou art jarl," reasoned Knud. "If thou take them not now we will yet compel thee. Thou canst not do altogether as thou wilt. We think thou wilt need many coins. They are the custom of this land."
"So be it," said Ulric. "I am learning much about them. But I would rather be rich in cattle and in horses. I have all the lands of Brander. I think I will take some coins with me when I go, to keep them in a bag like old Oswald, the harper."
"We will pay ours here, I think," said Knud. "But let the Jew make thy bargains for thee; for the sons of Odin are not good merchants."
Ben Ezra spoke then, agreeing well with Knud, but the heart of Ulric was heavy because of Sigurd, for the son of Thorolf had kept good faith with him, and the men who are true to friends are the men who are most missed when the valkyrias come to them.
There were eating and drinking and there was much curious examination of the weapons and clothing and armor of the robbers from beyond Jordan. Ben Ezra and Abbas answered all questions, but they said, also, that there must be no going away from the tower until a messenger should arrive from Julius or from some other Roman officer.
Even while he was saying this to Ulric there was heard from the southward along the highway the sound of a trumpet.
"Whoever cometh," said Ben Ezra, "let me have first speech with him. In slaying these who lie here we have been under the orders of Julius, the centurion, and our official responsibility is to him; but he referreth us to Caius, of the household of the procurator at Jerusalem. We have need of cunning."
The sun was high now, and Esdraelon was exceedingly beautiful between its mountains. It was a plain of brown and green under blue heavens, a place where the gods might walk; but Ulric, the son of Brander, listened to the trumpet and looked from the bodies of the dead to the Saxons, who stood in line on guard at the roadside.
"This is the valley of battles," he said, aloud. "O Jew, I will heed thee. Knowest thou anything of this Julius?"
"Not of myself," said Ben Ezra, "but Abbas knoweth of him that he is said to be a subtle serpent, winning much money on wagers, and that he is cruel."
"Mark thou this, then," said Ulric. "I saw in his face a thing that I read better now that we have lost a brave swordsman. Deal thou carefully with these who come. I like not this place where too many have fallen, and where thou sayest the multitudes are to perish in the latter days."
Dark was the brow of the young jarl, and he went and stood by the open tomb and by the body of Sigurd, the son of Thorolf.
Out stepped Ben Ezra into the highway, and he stood there making due obeisance and uttering a greeting, when a Roman officer wearing a white cloak with a purple border drew rein before him.
"I am Caius, of Thessalonica," said the Roman. "Who art thou and who are these?"
"If thou art Caius, thou art well arrived," said Ben Ezra. "Thy swordsmen rested here at the command of Julius, the centurion, and I have somewhat to tell——"
"These, then, were hired for me by that traitor Hyles?" suddenly exclaimed Caius, in wrath. "And he sent them on to be murdered by Julius? Thou knowest not that Hyles was slain in Samaria yesterday? Tell all!"
Rapidly spoke the Jew, while other horsemen and four chariots halted near in the highway.
Caius dismounted and walked on to where Ulric stood, and the jarl greeted him, pointing down at Sigurd.
"So! I have lost a good sword by this Julius," exclaimed Caius. "He meant me to lose all that he might win the games. Are any more of thy men hurt?"
"None," said Ulric in Latin, "but this was a chief, a hero, a leader of men. Him we must bury before we march."
"I, too, am a soldier!" shouted Caius. "He was a brave man! Bury him according to thy custom. Thinkest thou I am a dog? I, too, will stand by. Brave men grow scarce. I would that Cæsar had ten legions of such as thou art. The new levies are dwarfs!"
Out went the hand of Ulric freely, for the man's face had scars on it and he was of good stature.
"I will go with thee," he said. "I am Ulric the Jarl, of the sons of Odin. It was promised me that I should have a lion to slay and that I should see Jerusalem. Wilt thou keep faith with me?"
"No!" said Caius. "I will give thee not to a lion; but thou shalt go where thou wilt, and then thou shalt see Rome and fight before Cæsar. Wait till thou hast seen this lion prepared for thy destruction. I am not thine enemy to betray thee to ruin."
"I will wait," said Ulric, but he turned and beckoned to the Saxons.
All came and they took up the body of Sigurd, laying it in the deep tomb.
"Put in stones and earth," said Ulric; but Caius, of Thessalonica, stepped forward and threw in the first handful.
"Cunning is he," whispered Abbas to Ben Ezra. "He knoweth men. He is winning these Saxons for himself. There are no men more cunning than the Romans."
Slowly filled they the tomb, but Ulric stood at the head, looking down, and he said aloud: "Who shall sing the tomb song of Sigurd, the son of Thorolf?"
"Thou, O jarl," said Knud the Bear. "We have no harp nor any saga woman. Sing thou to the hero and to the gods."
Song came upon the soul of Ulric and his lips opened—and it was as if Hilda were with him, for he sang wonderfully. There were women in the chariots and they sat listening to the musical voice of the jarl. The legionaries on the horses sat like statues. The Saxons waited, holding each his war horn in his hand, as did the jarl, until the tomb was filled, and they laid a broad stone thereon from a ruined part of the tower.
Ulric lifted his war horn and all the rest did likewise, answering his blast and then shouting. He blew again and he cried out:
"O Sigurd, son of Thorolf, the sea king, I have done as thou didst bid me. Bear thou my messages to the dead. Tell them I come. Keep thou a place for me in Valhalla, in the day when the valkyrias come for me."
"Thou hast bidden farewell to thy comrade," said Caius, frankly. "What doest thou with the corpses of these robbers?"
"Let the ravens and the wolves care for that matter," said Ulric. "They are not ours."
"It is well," said the Roman, for there was pride in the manner of the jarl. "Such work is for slaves, not for thee. An officer will do whatever is needful. Prepare thee to march for Tiberias. Thou wilt have good quarters, near the amphitheater. No man may molest thee, O chief of the Saxons. I like thee well, and I would thy tall comrade were living. Subtle indeed is Julius, the gambler, but he hath obtained only the slaying of robbers, and the quæstor will but laugh as at a jest."
Well pleased were all the Saxons at the respect shown to them and to their jarl, but they went and looked curiously at the chariots in the highway. They studied well the wheels and the harness, but most of all did they gaze at the charioteers.
"Now," said Knud the Bear, "I believe that which was told me, for I have seen black men. I must slay one some day that I may know the color of his blood and of his flesh. They have strange hair, also, and they wear arm rings of silver and rings in their noses and in their ears."
"Those women are like other women," thought Ulric. "Not yet have I seen her who stood by Hilda in my dreams. She is tenfold more beautiful than any of these."
Nevertheless, haste was made, and when the trumpet sounded the march the Saxons were ready for the highway; but it was after the middle of the day, and Ben Ezra had all directions for the way. On went the chariots and the horsemen, and then Ulric and his men followed, saluting first the tomb of Sigurd.
"Halt thou! This is the place provided for thy band."
So said to Ulric the Jarl the Roman soldier who stood in the highway before the inn.
It was near the setting of the sun and the Saxons were weary with the heat. They were thirsty, likewise, and they were glad of a light red wine which was brought to them, but Ulric said to the bringers:
"For me water only. I fear much the evil spirit that hideth in the wine of this land. I think he is mine enemy and that my gods are at war with him."
So he drank only water, but they all went in to the supper which had been ordered for them by Caius. They talked not much with any, for the people of the inn were afraid of them, and men and women and children of the neighborhood who came to gaze did so as those who look but in readiness to run away.
The place was but a hamlet in Esdraelon, and around it were vineyards with many olive trees and fig trees.
There was a spirit of unrest upon Ulric, the son of Brander, and his soul was troubled within him. He remained not in the inn after supper, but walked out alone fully armed. He conversed in Latin a brief space with the soldier on duty there, asking him questions, and the answers did not please him.
"Thou wilt feed the beasts of the circus right well," said the legionary scornfully. "They will be hungry when they are let loose upon thee and thine. Thou art no Roman. All barbarians are fit to be crucified."
Down into his face looked Ulric the Jarl. "O Roman," he said, "I am a match for seven such as thou art. I could lift thee above my head and cast thee like a stone from a sling. Well said Caius that these new legions were worthless against the strong in battle. Thou hast no part in Thor the Hammerer."
The soldier's face was dark with anger, but the jarl laughed and passed on, and neither of them knew that Knud the Bear in the door of the inn had been balancing his spear.
"If he lifteth but a hand against the jarl, I will smite him through!" muttered Knud. "The jarl is imprudent. I like it not."
"Lower thy spear," said Ben Ezra near him. "There will be no harm to thy chief. Thou art overhasty and thou wilt soon die."
"There will be blood at my dying," said Knud. "I will strike for the jarl if all the legions of Cæsar should come."
"Wait," said Ben Ezra. "Thou wilt find a better hour to use thy spear."
"So be it," replied Knud. "Thou art old and thou art wise and thou hatest Romans."
On walked the jarl, but he was thinking, and the thoughts in his mind were heated.
"Where am I now?" he said, but not aloud. "Where is the good ship The Sword? Where are my companions who sailed with me from the Northland? Where is Asgard? I have seen one god, but when shall I look into his face again? When shall I find the maiden who stood by Hilda? My heart is on fire when I think of her. None like her was ever seen in the Northland. O Hilda, canst thou tell me does this thy beautiful companion dwell among the gods? Then will I go to them that I may greet her, for she is mine."
Other thoughts came to be uttered, but he spoke them not, and he walked onward into the deepening gloom. Very dark it was until the moon arose, and he knew not that the Saxons at the inn were inquiring angrily concerning him.
"What are we if we lose our jarl?" said Wulf the Skater. "But for him we had been lost long since. We would have no more help of Odin if our jarl were taken away."
Ben Ezra and Abbas pacified them, and Tostig the Red said to the others:
"There are but few Romans near and they are bound under Caius. What danger to the son of Brander were a drove of these Syrian cattle, even if they were armed?"
"The son of Thorolf was slain by an arrow shot in the dark," said a viking, surlily. "The jarl doeth not well to go among arrows. I would see his face again."
Murmurs were many, and they all came out and stood before the inn examining their weapons and tightening their mail.
Ulric walked on, but not far, in the brightening moonlight.
"It is like the North country moon in winter," he said, for the air was clear and many things could be seen as in the day.
Beyond him arose a hill, such as may be in so great a plain, and on it there were ruins, grass-grown and mossy. In the old time there had been here a castle or a pleasure palace, none could tell which, and some of the stones were large, arising as pillars with stones laid across their summits.
"Not a temple," said Ulric, thoughtfully. "I hope not. I would not go too near an abiding place of the dead gods. Oft they come back again to trouble men. So saith Ben Ezra. So saith Abbas. They hate men, for men worship them no more."
He walked more slowly, thinking of the gods and of Hilda and of the strangeness that he himself was here without a ship or a strong company, and not knowing what might be before him on the morrow.
"I am jarl no more," he began to say, but at that moment he was suddenly silenced and he stood still to listen.
Not many paces beyond him was an open space on the summit of the hill and around it were fallen pillars, many and great, made of white stone. From this open there arose a voice and the light of the moon trembled among the white pillars.
"He kneeleth!" said Ulric to himself. "Ben Ezra called him the rabbi of Nazareth. If there be dead gods or evil demons here, he feareth them not, for they know him."
Not loudly but with exceeding melody of voice the tongue of the kneeling man spoke on, and Ulric said:
"He singeth not to the dead of this place. It is not a saga of heroes. He asketh many things, that they may be given him. I am glad of the old Hebrew tongue that I understand him somewhat, but much that he speaketh I do not understand."
So he listened more, and the voice went on and the moonlight fell gloriously upon the face of him who was kneeling.
"I have been gone long from the inn," said Ulric in his thoughts. "I must return, but I have learned a thing. He is not alone here, as I am. The gods are with him, and he talketh with them as one god may talk to another, as friend to friend, right kindly. He is not at war with them, and one of them is his father. I would it were Odin, for I like this god and I like his asking for these things that he needeth. I, too, need many things, but Odin is far away and I know him not very well. The face of a god is very beautiful in the moonlight. He is a tall, strong man, a good fighter. But the gods have a strength of their own, greater than that of men. They can uproot trees and overturn rocks and drive the ice out of the fiords. This god could do a great many mighty things. I will have a talk with him some day, and I will ask him concerning Asgard."
Ulric gazed earnestly at the face of Jesus of Nazareth, but the closed eyes did not open and the wonderful voice continued its many petitions.
"I would I might see some of the other gods," thought the jarl, "but to remain here is not well. He hath come to this place to be alone with his father and his friends, and no brave warrior would be an intruder upon the affairs of others. I will go."
He turned and walked away, but his thoughts were dark and heavy within him.
"This man is of the sons of Odin," he said. "So am I. Therefore he and I are of kin, and I would know more of him. I would ask him concerning Hilda and my father. If he may thus talk with the gods, my right is the same. But he is more than I, for the evil spirits obey him. He is no magician, to be friendly with them, but he was not unkind to the demon whom he sent away. If I were a god, I think I would deal well with demons and make them fight for me."
So he communed with himself, walking, until he was loudly greeted at the door of the inn.
"O jarl," shouted Knud, "thou art safe! I did not know where to search for thee. It is wrong for thee to leave us in this manner."
"O Knud," said Ulric, "I am not a child. The night is quiet. Let us all sleep, for the march on the morrow may be long, under a hot sun."
The others reproved him sharply, but they now were glad to rest, and the night waned.
There was no sound of trumpet at the sun's rising, but a quaternion of legionaries came and the guard was changed. The officer also brought orders from Caius that the gladiators should move on toward Galilee. Also a chariot came to carry for them their burdens and their heavier arms and armor, of which there was too much in weight for those who would march rapidly.
"This is not a country for bearskins," said Knud. "Even Wulf the Skater is willing to take off his mail and his helmet. He never would do that thing until this day."
"There is no fighting to be done among these vineyards," said Wulf, "and I think this red wine maketh one's blood hot. I am thinking that I would gladly see a tiger."
"There will be nothing in this land greater to contend with than was the white bear slain by Jarl Ulric," said Tostig the Red. "The children of the ice king were strong ones. I would rejoice in ice and snow at this hour."
"It will be long before thou art frozen, O red one," laughed another of the Saxons. "I am melting, like the ice king."
"Thou wilt make less noise when thou fallest," said Tostig. "But cause me not to remember too much the sea and the good ship The Sword. Such thoughts bring me to hate the land, and I listen for the washing of the waves and for the cries of seabirds. It is not good, for the sea is far away."
Silence came then and the Saxons walked on along the highway, seeing all things as they went, but thinking of the blue waters and of the plowing keels and of the North. Ulric strode on in advance, and with him were Abbas and Ben Ezra, telling him many things that he might not be ignorant in his dealings with that which was before him.
"Caius believeth," Ben Ezra told him, "that thou and thy Saxons were engaged for him by his bondsman and purveyor Hyles, who was slain at Samaria for cheating him. We will have all care concerning that matter, but Julius feareth Caius of Thessalonica because of his near friendship with this Pontius the Spearman, who is master of Judea and Samaria under Cæsar. Win thou the good will of Caius, for he is a man of rank and gaineth power. Only trust not any Roman, for they care not for the life of a barbarian more than of a dog."
Ulric answered little, but he thought, and spoke it not.
"These twain are Jews, but one is as a free Northman, a warrior, and the other is as a slave in spirit, fearing the Romans even more than he hateth them. I like not Abbas. He would sell me and mine as if we were cattle. Ben Ezra proveth a true friend and I will abide by his sayings. Here cometh a party!"
Looking along the highway at that moment, he saw chariots and horsemen, but no flag nor any armor.
"Who are these?" he asked of Ben Ezra.
"Let them come nearer," said the Jew. "It is likely they are travelers of importance. Halt thy men at the roadside and we will see."
At the word the Saxons halted, leaving the road free, and they were all willing to stand and watch this company that came.
Four chariots there were, but the one which came first was gilded and carven and was drawn by four white horses. Over it was a silken canopy, and in it sat three veiled women. Of these two were on a front seat, behind the charioteers. He who drove was black and exceedingly uncomely, and beside him sat a large brown man bearing a spear and girded with a sword. These were turbaned and their apparel was good, but not upon them did the eyes of Ulric linger. On the back seat of the chariot, half reclining, was the third woman, and he said to himself:
"This is the princess and the others are her servants. I would see a princess of this country."
Forward he strode three paces, and Knud said to Wulf the Skater:
"How splendid is the youth of our jarl, with his golden hair and his face like that of Odin! There is none other like him!"
"Beautiful is he!" exclaimed Wulf. "But his face is full of pride this day, and I think he is in anger. Speak not to him."
"The woman lifteth her veil," said Tostig, "and she leaneth forward. Odin! She is wonderful! Her headdress is of jewels. Mark the jarl!"
Dark yet fair, with the red of the new rose in her cheeks and with eyes like the lone stars in a winter night, was the young woman who so suddenly leaned forth to look at Ulric. Into his eyes, also, came flashing a great light and a smile of joy was on his face.
"O companion of Hilda!" he shouted in Hebrew. "How camest thou hither from thy place among the gods? I am Ulric the Jarl, and I saw thee when I was on the sea."
Silent was this beautiful princess for a moment, but she grew pale and then red and she seemed to tremble greatly.
"O maiden," said Ben Ezra, "whoever thou art, drive on. He will not harm thee. He is a prince of the Saxons and thou mayest not have conversation with him. He is not for such as thou art, O daughter of Israel."
"Hold thou thy peace!" came from the maiden, as one of high rank may speak. "Warrior of the Saxons, come thou nearer. Thou didst not see me, for I was never on any ship. What is thy meaning?"
Almost at the side of the chariot was the jarl, gazing into her face, but his voice was as the murmur of a harp in the wind when he replied to her.
"O beautiful one!" he said. "Princess of the light and of the morning! More beautiful than are the flowers and the stars! Thy face was where the gods live and I saw thee in my dreams. I will give thee this token from Ulric, of the sons of the gods."
His hand had passed under the mail of his bosom and the bag of gems was there. Now he drew out his hand and he raised before the eyes of the Jewish maiden the perfect gem of which Ben Ezra had said that it was priceless.
"He must not give her that," whispered Abbas.
"Hinder him not!" said Ben Ezra. "Little thou knowest such as he. Wert thou to interfere now, thy head were at the roadside before thou couldst breathe twice. Leave it upon thy shoulders, madman!"
Abbas shrank back, clutching his fingers and scowling, but the Jewish maiden's hand was already grasping the jewel and her lips were smiling with a surpassing sweetness.
"I am Miriam," she said, "and I dwell in Jerusalem. I shall see thee no more. But I give thee a ring for my token. Never have I looked upon such a face as thine."
From her hand she took a ring, and in it was a large, pure pearl, very brilliant, and the gold of the ring was yellow and heavy.
"O Miriam," said Ulric, in the deep tones of the harp of Oswald, "I will wear thy ring, but not in battle. I come soon to Jerusalem, and I will meet thee there, or I will meet thee in Asgard, among the gods, and I will take thee to the house of my father, Odin. Thou art fit to be a princess in Asgard."
His face was like the sun, but hers grew white again, and she drew her veil over it, for Ben Ezra said to Ulric:
"Let none hear thee, O jarl. I know not this matter. Thy words may bring upon her a peril. Harm her not, but be prudent. Thou art a wise captain. Let her drive on. Forward, charioteer! On thy life linger not!"
"Thou art right!" shouted back the brown man, nodding his head at Ben Ezra. "She is my mistress, but she is willful. On!"
The black charioteer slackened the reins of his prancing horses and they sprang forward, but a great cry burst from the lips of Miriam, and the word of Hebrew that was in the sound of it was:
"Farewell, my beloved! I have seen thee!"
"Farewell, O princess!" but in the voice of Ulric, the son of Brander, was a faintness of strong pain, and he turned upon his heel, bowing his head.
"Speak not to the jarl!" said Tostig, grasping the arm of Abbas. "What hast thou to do with an affair of a warrior and a woman? Wert thou to meddle with me in such a case, I would cleave thee to the jaws."
But the chariots all moved swiftly away, and so did the horsemen who were with them, but none of these were soldiers, and in the other chariots were but servants and much baggage.
"The jarl hath marched on," said Tostig the Red. "Follow and trouble him not; for that maiden was wonderfully beautiful and she gave him a ring of remembrance."
The Northland under the autumn sun was as the South, with green fields and forests and with glowing blooms upon shrubbery and in the hollows of the hills. The fiords were shadowy, with a coolness in the breezes which breathed among them that was pleasant to the wearied fishermen in returning boats.
Upon the high promontory looking seaward at the north of the cove and of the village and of the house of Brander there were no pine trees. Its bald granite knob glittered in the waning light so that it might be seen from far at sea as if it were a beacon. It was not a place for men to seek having no errand to lead them, and not many feet had trodden upon it since the world was made.
Nevertheless, this place was not at the closing of the day unoccupied, and from it there came a sound which went out over the wide water, and downward that it might mingle with the voices of the fiords, and landward, also, that it might be joined with the soft sighing and low whispering of the forests. Not loud was this sound at the first, but it grew louder, and then with it went forth a voice.
"I think my strength faileth me," said Oswald, the harper, pausing in his song. "The harp was overheavy to bring up the mountain. I grow old and I am alone. Hilda sleepeth in the tomb of Odin's sons, Ulric is afar among unknown seas. Am I to die a cow's death before he returneth? Who is there to make the mark of a spear upon my breast, lest I fail of Valhalla? I have fought in many a feast of swords. Why am I to perish slowly, without honor? Sad is the fate of Oswald if the valkyrias pass him and leave him to die in his bed."
Once more the song arose, but now his voice was stronger and he sang of war to the rocks and to the trees and to the gods among the fiords. The old gier-eagle on the withered pine tree northward listened intently, now and then fanning with his wide wings, until the spirit that was in the harping awakened him well. Loud was the scream that he sent back to Oswald, and he dropped suddenly from the branch of the pine tree, spreading his pinions and floating over the sea in a wide circle, rising as he went.
"He is free to come and to go," mourned Oswald, "but I am bound at home and I shall no more ride the war steeds of the open sea nor hear the clang of shields nor see the red blood flow. Where is the good ship The Sword this day? Where are Ulric the Jarl and his vikings?"
Low bowed his head and his hands sought fitfully the strings of his harp, bringing out the notes of sorrow.
"I will arise," he said, "and I will go to Hilda's room. I will play to her there and see if she will answer me. She hath not spoken to me since her eyes were closed. But she is with the gods and she hath many matters upon her mind. She hath spoken to Brander the Brave and to jarls and chiefs and kings that were of old. She hath seen Odin, and she hath heard sagas that we hear not until the return of the gods."
He stood erect upon the rock where he had been sitting, and he was not weak, for he shouldered his great harp and bore it with ease as he went down the rugged side of the mountain. Many saw him come, and they who were near enough greeted him, but he paused not to speak. He went not through the village, among the houses, but along the shore, where the tide was coming in and where the waves called out to him as he passed. He turned to listen to them, but across the water came no other voice, and he shook his head sadly.
"Here was The Sword launched," he said, halting at the head of the cove. "Here was the White Horse of the Saxons sacrificed to Odin. From hence the new keel went out behind the outing ice. Hilda of the hundred winters told me that there would be no return. Is it so? Will the young jarl never again put his foot upon this beach? Or did she speak only of the vessel? Who may know the counsel of the gods! For they speak unto all men in riddles and the meaning thereof is hidden from us."
He turned and walked to the house, passing through the great hall, bearing his harp, and he went on to the room of Hilda, looking in.
"It is empty," he said. "No other hath slept therein since she departed."
Bare were the walls, and the floor of cloven pine logs lay black, uncovered by rushes. One small table only remained, and upon this was a Roman lamp of bronze, which Brander, the sea king, had brought back from one of his voyages to Britain. There was oil in it and a wick, for such had been a bidding of Hilda to one of the older women and to the housemaidens. They feared much to let that lamp go without filling, if the oil dried away; but it had not been lighted, although a wick was in it.
"I will bring fire," said Oswald, and he did so, going out and returning. He set the flame of his small torch to the wick and it surprised him, for it would not burn.
"O Hilda," he exclaimed, "what is this thing that I cannot light thy lamp?"
There was no spoken answer, but suddenly the wick took the fire and it blazed up a handbreadth, as if for a token.
"Burn thou, then," said Oswald. "I will sing to her."
Quickly they who were in the other rooms of the house and in the hall heard the sound of harping and the voice of a wonderful song, for it was as a love song sung to the dead, telling her of the living and asking her concerning the gods and of all the places of the gods, where she was dwelling. Men and women listened, looking into one another's faces and whispering low, for the song was very beautiful and the harp answered as if it were alive.
Joyously burned the lamp, with a clear golden flame, as the song went on, but it at last burned lower and lower and there came a red color into the fire.
"There hath been much blood!" exclaimed Oswald. "I would I had been with the jarl in the feast of swords. The battle is ended!"
For the lamp went out and the room was very dark, but he sat in the gloom by his harp waiting for what might come.
"Disturb him not," said all the household. "He ever mourneth for Ulric and for Hilda."
Much time went by and now and then there came from that room harp notes, one by one, very faint and low, but Oswald was saying to himself:
"I have heard and I have not heard. All things are a riddle that I cannot read. Surely she touched the harp and her face was in the shadows. O Hilda, speak to me, for I am lonely! Tell me that thou hast not forgotten thy kindred!"
Then fell he down upon his face in a deep swoon, and they who went in because they heard the sound found, also, the harp lying by him with its strings broken. They lifted him and carried him away, taking, also, the harp, but when he again began to breathe and opened his eyes the words that he first uttered were in another tongue than that of the Northland. They heard the name of Hilda, but even when he aroused himself and talked with them he told them naught of what things had occurred to him in the room of Hilda, the prophetess. For there are secrets in the lives of men wherein other men have no part, and no man openeth his hidden heart unwisely. The thoughts of friends whose bodies are far apart are often apt to draw near and to walk the earth side by side. Oswald, indeed, was sending his heart out after Hilda and after Ulric. If the saga woman had in any manner answered him, no man knoweth. Nor can any say that the soul of Ulric was nearer to that of Oswald because both were thinking of each other and of her who had departed from them.
So may the gods look on from their places and see what men see not, and they may often smile, if they are kindly minded, to see men and women meet and embrace without the touching of the bodily flesh.
Three days went by, and because of a request of Oswald's many messages had gone out from house to house and from village to village, up and down the coast and far inland. To everyone it was told that the hour was at hand and that a token of the gods had come to Oswald, but that he was still living. Upon the fourth day all who were entitled to come, by reason of kinship or of their high descent, had arrived. Many men and many women had gathered, and among them were those who brought harps. These sat apart and they spoke to each other in low voices, tuning their harps and listening to the sounds which answered them from the strings.
"The harp of Oswald is broken," said one. "Who shall take it after him?"
"No man," replied the oldest of them all. "It is a harp which came from the East, in the ship of a sea king, and he gave it to the father of Oswald in the days when Hilda was yet unborn. Upon it are strange runes that none may read."
"It shall rest with him in his grave, then," said another, "but Hilda said that he would need it not in the place to which he hath gone."
"They have both harps and harpers there," said the old man, thoughtfully. "I know not the meaning of Hilda's word. So good a harp must find a player, and I think the gods can mend it. We cannot, for we have no strings like these."
Before them lay the great harp upon the floor of the hall, and one lifted it, placing it before a chair as if it might be played upon. There were yet three strings remaining, and the old man sat down in the chair and put out his hands, touching, also, the strings which were broken. Not from these, assuredly, came the sound which now fell upon the ears of the gathered vikings, but all were silent, for the spirit of song was upon this ancient one whom no man knew. Clear was his voice, but thin, and at times it wavered as if with age and weakness, but he sang the departing song of Oswald and of the old time. Strong were his hands also, for as he ceased he gripped with them and these three strings, also, were snapped asunder with loud twanging.
"Hilda is right!" he exclaimed. "The harp of Oswald is dead. It will never sound again. Build ye a fire, high and hot, and burn upon it this frame of wood. I go to Oswald's room."
Rising from his chair, all saw that he was tall and white-bearded, and none detained him while he went to the room of Oswald.
"Thou art awakened, O Oswald, the harper?" he asked, as he entered the room.
"Waiting for thee, old man," came hoarsely from the lips of him who lay upon the bed. "Now lift me up that I may stand erect, and put my sword in my hand. I will not die a cow's death, and thou art mine enemy, having full right in this matter."
"We burn thy harp, as Hilda gave thee directions," said the old man. "We bury thee in a coffin at the foot of the great stone, thy arms and thy armor with thee."
"Also my bag of coins," said Oswald, "and my cup of silver. I know not if I may need them. They have drinking horns in Valhalla. Smite me in the breast. Let the spear mark be a deep one that I may be known as a warrior."
In the doorway and within the room stood now chiefs and heroes and they had heard, and they said to the old one, "Strike him!"
Deep and kindly was the thrust of the spear that was given to Oswald, and he fell to the ground as if he had fallen in battle, so that all the vikings were satisfied.
"Art thou to be smitten," asked a chief of the old man, "or goest thou hence?"
"I am to see the earth put upon him," said the old man. "I came far for this thing, from my place below the great south fiord, toward Denmark. Ask me not my name lest there be a blood revenge in the mind of some foolish one. Take Oswald to his tomb and smite me there, for we are to be buried together and my harp goeth with me."
All went out of the room and the bearers brought the body of Oswald, the harpers playing and the women also chanting. The ancient one took up his harp, which was not very large, and he seemed joyful as he walked with those who went forth to the place of tombs. The grave of Oswald was deep and by it lay a coffin of cloven pine pieces. In this they laid him, bending his swords and seax and breaking the shaft of his spear. His shield and his mail were broken and all were laid upon the body. Then one placed the bag of coins and the goblet at the head and a jarl of rank covered all with a slab of pine, throwing in handfuls of earth and many stones.
"Art thou ready?" he asked of the old one.
"Not thy spear," he said. "Strike with thy sword; and let it be a blow through the heart. As I cease this song to the gods and to the dead I will lay my harp in the tomb. Strike me then."
Now his voice failed him not and he sang well, bringing loud music from his harp.
"I have fought in fourscore of battles!" he shouted. "I have sailed in all seas! I have spared none in the feasts of swords! I have seen the red blood flow from the hearts of many! I die by the hand of a jarl at the grave of my old foeman. O Oswald, I shall be with thee in Valhalla, and there will we cross our swords and fight before the gods. Strike, thou of the sword!"
Down dropped his harp upon the coffin of Oswald and the sword of the jarl passed through him, flashing and returning. Then the ancient one lay upon his harp and earth and stones were thrown in until the tomb was filled and heaped. All the while the other harpers harped and sang, so that due reverence was given to the passing of Oswald.
"Will he see Hilda this night?" asked one of the women. "I bade him greet her for me."
"They say that one who dieth must walk alone a little distance," replied the other woman, "and then he cometh to a dog; and he shall know then where to seek a house that he may enter."
"I have heard many things," said the first speaker, "but they do not agree. I think we know but little certainly. It would be well if one of the dead were to come back and say what he hath seen."
"I would rather hear a saga," said yet another of the women. "I like not the dead. They are cold and they bring ill fortune. Let them stay with the gods."
So said the greater part, but one woman went away muttering to herself. "The dead! The dead!" she said. "They are of no use to us after they are buried. They care not for us any more. But I would willingly have speech with one of them if he would not be overchurlish. I will go, some night, and watch at the place of tombs. The witches watch at tombs and they see wonders. But it was worth seeing, the slaying of the old one. He was a brave warrior and he died well."
There was a feast that night in the house of Brander the Brave, for his kinsmen and his kinswomen entertained their friends joyfully. There was much singing and harping, and the horns and the cups came and went often around the tables. They drank deeply to the success of Ulric, the son of Brander, and to the voyage of his good ship The Sword, and to his return in glory from doing great deeds among the fleets of the Romans and among the islands and cities of the Middle Sea.
"The jarl will come again!" they shouted. "And here will he tell us of the feasts of swords and of the crashing of ship against ship. Hael to Jarl Ulric! Hael!"
"Not in Samaria this night," had Lysias said to himself when he rode away upon the swift ass whose ownership might be questioned, "but there are many places by the way wherein a wayfarer may find welcome if he payeth."
Behind the saddle had been fastened the leathern sack which he had brought with him from The Sword. It contained changes of raiment, but little else, for his coins and his jewels, which were not very valuable, were concealed about his person. More than once as he rode on he both thought and spoke concerning Ulric the Jarl and the vikings, but always did he seem well pleased that he was no longer in their company.
"The jarl is my sure friend," he remarked, "but some of his tall comrades walk with a hand too near the hilt of a sudden weapon."
It was toward the evening when, after riding through towns and villages, he came to what was evidently a caravansary of good size and cleanly keeping at the roadside.
"Here will I halt," he said. "I am now far escaped from burning wrecks and hasty-tempered pirates. I will have this beast of mine well cared for. He showeth no weariness. I think—O ye gods! I know—I am nearer my Sapphira!"
Ere he could dismount, however, before him stood the keeper of the hostelry. Such as he are ever ready to greet with smiling faces the well appareled, riding beasts of price. "He will have money to pay with," thought the innkeeper. "But the land swarmeth with Greeks."
Loud and friendly was his greeting, and in a moment more he was made to understand that this elegant stranger was Lysias, the student, returning to Jerusalem to the school of Gamaliel from a journey to the Lebanon and to the cities of Galilee. Being a man of Samaria, the keeper was the better pleased that his guest was not a Jew, for of them he spoke with scorn and hatred.
"O youth," he said, as they went into the inn, "thou art fortunate. Thou abidest with me this night and on the morrow thy journey will have goodly companionship. There is here a company from Bethsaida and from other cities near the sea of Tiberias. They are merchants, and among them are a taxgatherer and one who dealeth in slaves. There is neither scribe nor Levite to make thee uncomfortable with his evil speech. May they all perish! It is said that the roads are not entirely safe and the robbers come and go without warning."
"I shall be glad of them," said Lysias, "but I think this village must be safe, for I saw the helmet of a legionary as I rode in."
"Where they are the robbers come not," said the keeper, "but they will not be with thee always on the road."
Then walked he away, and Lysias overheard him muttering curses upon all Romans and contempt for all Greeks.
"I think I heard somewhat else," thought Lysias, "and I will look well at this company with which I am to journey to Jerusalem. There have been innkeepers who had no enemies among the robbers and there have been robbers who paid tribute to all innkeepers. I may not carry a bow, but mine eyes and mine ears may do me good service."
Very good was the entertainment given to him and to his comely brown beast, but the departure was early the next morning. Even more in number than he had expected were these who came out into the road at the door of the inn to go on together.
"They are of many kinds," thought Lysias. "No twain are alike. I will not have much conversation with them, but I will watch, for I think they know this innkeeper exceedingly well."
So did he, and it was late in the day when he halted upon the summit of a hill, looking thoughtfully forward and then behind him.
"O ass," he said, "how fast canst thou gallop if it is to save thy master's throat from cutting? Thou hast robbers for companions, and they do but await their opportunity, which I have not yet given them by the way."
The ass did but pull at the bit and the rein was loosened that he might go. On the northerly slope of that hill, however, the company of men and animals which had seemed but peaceful at the outset had halted for a rest before ascending the steep. There were now Jews among them, and others of whose race and lineage there might be curious questioning. Now, also, there were weapons to be seen, such as privileged merchants might be allowed to carry for their protection, and no doubt they had with them written authority to show to any Roman officer. At the first there had been but a dozen men and the women who were with them, but more had joined at a hamlet upon this side of the city of Samaria, now far behind them. Of these latter was an exceedingly black-browed man, having but one eye, and he seemed to be a sort of leader and commander over the others. To Lysias he had averred that he was a dealer in cattle, having a contract with the purveyors of the Roman garrisons. Thus far he had purchased no beasts, but he had looked covetously at the fine ass which carried the young Greek. At this hour he was saying to another of his crew:
"To-night, then. He hath treasure with him, and the beast will bear me swiftly to the wilderness. We will throw his carcass into the pit near the three palms at the crossroad. None will be the wiser and his friends will in vain make inquiry."
"I will stab him as he sleepeth," replied the man spoken to. "The Romans care little if there be one Greek the less. We will speak softly to him when we catch up with him. I have seen that he hath no manner of unquiet mind as to us."
On went the ass, however, at his swiftest pace, even while they were talking, and a long league of the highway did he pass before the intending stabber rode over the crest of that hill.
"Where is the Greek?" he exclaimed.
"Ridden on a little," replied the evil-faced captain. "Pursue not, lest thou alarm him. He will wait for us. He liketh well to prove the speed of his fine beast."
He had not spoken untruly, for Lysias was gladly discovering for the first time that he had found a treasure with four legs, a swift and tireless runner that took pleasure in a race, needing no urging. Only in hamlets and villages, of which there were many, was the rein drawn, and wayfarers who greeted the rider received but brief responses.
"Here am I safe!" he exclaimed at last, "for yonder on the hill is a fort and near it is a camp of Romans. My thieves are no longer a peril. Glad am I, too, that I am so far from the Saxon jarl and his pirates. Their short, sharp blades are ever too near even to each other, and a spear in the hand of a Saxon is but an eager hunter seeking for a mark. I will rest here, and then I will let this beast shorten the road to Jerusalem."
They who had proposed to take the swift ass from him had also hastened somewhat until they inquired carefully of one whom they met, describing Lysias and his bearer.
"Yea," said the man, "ye mean the hasty messenger. He passed me going like the wind. He who sent the message may be sure of its speedy delivery."
Loud and fierce were the utterances of the evil-faced one and his companions, and they cursed their gods for this disappointment. Also they blamed themselves much that they had not sooner taken courage to slay the Greek. It was for this, their cowardice and delay, they said, that the gods had mocked them.
"Never again," said the evil-faced one, "will I throw away a gift that they have placed in my hand. But they might have allowed me the chance I had chosen this night. I have but small confidence in the gods. They are treacherous."
Strong and well made was the Roman camp at the foot of the hill whereon was the castle. There were intrenchments and a mound and lines of palisades, and before these there was drawn up a full cohort of legionaries. It was an evening parade, and along the glittering line there rode without companions an eagle-faced man, who wore no armor.
"Half drilled!" he muttered, angrily. "It is well we are at peace. Of what good were such as these upon the Parthian frontier? Julius Cæsar would never have beaten the Nervii with these dwarfs to face the stout barbarians. He would but have left them to rot in the wilderness, as Crassus did his Syrian levies. But I think I can teach these fellows that they cannot trifle with Pontius the Spearman."
Backward and all around the cohort rode the wrathful procurator of Judea, addressing no man, and then he wheeled and rode out to the highway.
"O thou upon the swift ass!" he suddenly shouted. "Come hither! I require thee."
Bowing low, but answering not, Lysias obeyed him, awaiting further speech.
"Is thy beast as swift as he seemeth?" said Pontius. "I know a good beast. Is he tired?"