CONTENTS

Now it chanced that in those grim and sorrowful days which came to the court and land of France after the death of Roland and the other noble dukes and brave lords who fell with him in that last great battle against the Saracens, King Charlemagne was driven to think much of the future of his realm. And sober and stern were his thoughts because of the evil which might befall his people now that these great heroes were gone from amongst them.

Thus he was moved to summon unto his court all the paramount lords and peers yet living, that he might take council with them concerning France in the days to come. But of the mighty Twelve who had once upheld his throne there was left only the Duke Naymes of Bauyer.

To his counsel would the King ever listen, for Duke Haymes had been comrade-in-arms, shield- mate and cup-brother to those who had gone— Roland and Oliver and Ogier the Dane and all the rest of the great ones.

When all the peers and lords were assembled before him, King Charlemagne spoke out that thought which was his constant fear, namely:

“Full sorry and bereft is this kingdom, for its fairest and greatest knights lie ravens’ meat in the mountain passes. No longer doth Roland sit among you, or Oliver lift his voice in wise counsel. And I am an old man, worn thin by hard years.

“What will chance with France and with those within her borders when I lay down sword and crown at Death’s bidding? This is the question I would now have you answer for me.

“Name you now my successor, for time hangs like a heavy cloak about my shoulders and this crown, which was but a featherweight in the days of my youth, is now a circle of lead wearing grievously upon my white head.

“Aye, I have two sons. But neither one can I with a clear conscience bring before you and say, “This is he who shall sit on the throne in my room.’

“For the younger, Louis, is still but a stripling in years, untried and unproven, and so no king for a troubled age. As for the elder. Chariot—a bringer of sorrow has he already been in times past. Did he not give freedom to his red temper and strike down the son of Ogier, thus near calling ruin upon us all? Therefore, if you think it well to set aside Chariot, although I do love him well, I shall not say you nay. For a kingdom is like unto a new-broke stallion, a firm and knowing hand must hold the guiding rein.

“Now among yourselves do you ponder this matter and your words shall be my will.”

Having so spoken the King withdrew into an inner chamber and the peers glanced uneasily at one another, no man wishing to speak before his neighbor lest his words be thought foolish and of small merit.

But Duke Naymes, having reason to fear no man there, arose then and spoke, all listening to him.

“Since our Lord King hath laid this task upon us let us acquit ourselves as becomes peers of France. The King hath spoken truly concerning Prince Louis. He is but a youth who hath never been put to the test, nor has he yet known the weight of mail, or held a full course against the enemy in the open field. Therefore he is no proper leader for knights in war, nor does he yet have the full wisdom of a man.

“But Prince Chariot is of greater years and hath held his place in battle. True, he hath done much that was foolish and devil, but how does a man learn wisdom, save through the sharpness of his own wrongdoing? And perhaps the Prince hath long since learned the errors of his hot-tempered youth and now governs himself as befits a knight of honor. Also, he is of the true blood of kings and if we now set him aside there will be no peace in the land when King Charlemagne is dead. For there will be those who will follow Chariot to the death and we shall have brother against brother and father against son in unnatural war. It will end in the ruin of us all.

“Therefore I now say and urge upon you all, my lords, choose Chariot to come after the king so that our future may be one of peace.”

The peers and lords were well pleased at this advice, for the truth of the Duke’s words was plain, even to the slowest of wit among them. So they sent one of their number to wait upon the King with the knowledge that they had made their choice. And he straightway returned to the council chamber.

Duke Haymes then spake aloud the will of the peers—namely, that Prince Chariot be king after his father. And King Charlemagne was well pleased and more merry than he had been for many a long day. For greatly did he love his son and he was proud that the peers would choose Chariot who, for his sins in the past, was much hated in the land.

Now among the lords in council was one, Earl Amaury, who was of the same black traitor blood as that twice-damned villain Gannelon (he who betrayed Roland and his fellow knights to their deaths). And this Amaury was as foul a rogue as Gannelon himself. But he was also fair efface and pleasant of voice, very courteous to those who could serve him in some wise. So was the depth of his evil soul hidden to most men and Charlemagne had made him governor to Prince Chariot.

Only one of the great lords had ever suspected that it was Amaury who had taught the young Prince much of the wickedness which he practiced. And that lord was Duke Sevin who ruled wisely and well the rich duchies of Bordeaux and Aquitaine. Although Sevin was dead these many years, Amaury’s hate for him was so great that even death could not still it and, since he could not attack Sevin, he planned revenge against the Duke’s two young sons, Huon and Gerard. These youths he swore secretly to bring to ruin and shameful death.

With this deep in his snake-brain, he arose now and, smiling as he ever did, addressed the King, saying:

“Lord King, young men must learn many things in this hard world and he who would rule a kingdom hath doubly much to master. Therefore, while you are yet amongst us to advise and oversee him, let Prince Chariot be given a dukedom to hold, that he may learn to govern the larger in the smaller.”

The King nodded at the wit in this, as did the other peers. But Duke Naymes drummed with his nails upon the broad arm of his chair, for he had been friend to Duke Sevin and had heard much from him concerning the foulness of Amaury. So that now he suspected a wrong in the making.

“There is,” Amaury, encouraged by the King’s smiles, continued, “a fair duchy, rich and mighty, meet for any prince, which is forfeit to Your Majesty because of the rash rebellion of its natural lords. Let this be given now to Prince Chariot for his testing.”

King Charlemagne showed open surprise, for he could not remember any rebel duchy. And he asked:

“Name you this Duke who is rebel against us.”

Amaury replied readily and openly enough:

“My Lord King, I speak of Bordeaux which is forfeit to Your Grace, since Huon and his brother Gerard who now rule there have not come to your court to do homage for their lands—as is your will and the law of France. Duke Sevin, their father, is long dead, and yet never have their faces been seen among your lords.”

Then did Duke Naymes rise up in such haste as to nigh overturn his chair of state. Black with anger was his face and hot his voice as he made answer:

“The truth of this matter is otherwise, Lord King. When Sevin, who was much loved amongst us and for good cause, departed into Paradise, his sons were but green youths, untried in judgment or battle. And in their names the Duchess Aclis hath ruled these many years. Greatly did she love Sevin and greatly does she love these sons of his who are much like him as he was in the days of his first youth. Therefore she cannot bear that they go from her or that they be placed in any risk. So have they not yet come to court by reason of their tender years and their mother’s great love for them—and not because of any willful rebellion against Your Grace. In proof of my words—send now to Bordeaux and summon these two!”

As Naymes spoke, King Charlemagne remembered well Duke Sevin and bethought himself that the sons of such a worthy father could not be judged rebels without good cause. So he called to him two trusty knights and laid these commands upon them:

“Go you now to the city of Bordeaux and there seek out the sons of Duke Sevin and his lady, the Duchess Aclis. And in my name bid them come to court that they may do homage and be confirmed in their father’s lands according to the laws of France. Mark you well how they make you welcome and whether they pay you the full honors becoming those who carry the king’s words. A then return hither at all speed and report how; were received.”

And the knights rode with their men for Edeaux but Earl Amaury’s hate grew even hoi against Huon and his brother and he went to plot in secret for their undoing.

II. HOW HUON RECEIVED THE KING’S COMMAND AND AMAURY PLOTTED HIS RUIN

When those knights who played herald at the order of the King reached the fair and pleasant city of Bordeaux they rode straight to the Keep of that city where lived and held court the Duchess Aclis and her sons. And these same youthful lords had but that hour returned from the chase so that they stood yet in the courtyard, each bearing upon his wrist his gerfalcon, hooded and jessed.

But when the King’s men made known their presence Huon did come forward to greet them in great eagerness and with his own hand did he hold the stirrup of the eldest knight for his dismounting, showing him the courtesy which he would have paid to the King himself. Right pleasantly too did the Duchess Aclis and Lord Gerard welcome them, receiving them with all honors, so that the knights were much pleased, saying privately to one another:

“Were our Lord King here these lords of Bordeaux could show him no better greeting than they have given to us.”

When they had refreshed themselves from their journey and could want no comfort, then did Huon ask of them their business and why Charlemagne had so sent them to Bordeaux. And the eldest made reply for them all:

“It is the will of our lord and dread master, King Charlemagne of France, that the sons of Duke Sevin come unto him and join his court that they may be made known unto their brother peers and confirmed in their lands as is the law.”

The Duchess Aclis hastened to make answer, saying:

“If our Lord King hath now any fault to find with my dear sons because they have not sought his court before, let the full weight of his just anger fall upon me. When my gracious lord. Duke Sevin, departed from me into the realm beyond our stars, he left me desolate and fearful, with but infants to comfort me. In their childish faces I saw ever my lord and I could not bear that they should go out of my keeping, even for the space of an hour. But now that they are men grown—though still of tender years—I can no longer rule their lives by a woman’s jealous fears. Let them but wait until after the Easter season so that once more we may celebrate together the Rising of Our Lord Jesu, and I shall surrender them to the King so that they may become his men in all things, even as was their noble father.”

Huon arose then, his comely face shining with pride and pleasure, and said to the King’s messengers:

“Go then to our Lord King and say unto him that we are much honored by his commands and shall speedily set forth to appear at his court, obeying only this last wish of our lady mother, that we celebrate the Rising of Christ by her side. Take you also, in remembrance of this meeting, these coursers of the Orkney breed—may they bear you faithfully and well into the heart of battle or over the roads of peace—and with them take also the knights’ cloaks which hang upon their saddles and the purses looped therewith. For to the messengers of a King no man can do too much honor.”

Then were the King’s knights indeed amazed, for such costly gifts were the largess of a great lord. And with great joy they did put on the fine silken cloaks of deep crimson and mount the war stallions. Many thanks did they say before they rode again through the gates of Bordeaux.

And when they returned to the King’s court ! they spoke together and severally concerning ,;

Huon and his brother and the open-handed Duchess. Too much praise they could not give to the lords and lady of Bordeaux.

“Lord Huon,” said the eldest knight, “is even yet but a slender stripling but he is prince-like in his courtesy and fine speaking. He is the most comely of face and person, the finest lording, that I have seen within the borders of France since our beloved Roland was a youth. And his brother Gerard is like unto him, though not as mighty a warrior as yet, being slighter of person and younger of years. Greatly do the twain of them honor Your Grace and much eagerness to come to you do they show, staying only with their mother until after the Eastertide that they may obey her last request.”

His messengers then showed the King the princely gifts which had been made them and he was astonished and greatly pleased to see such honor shown to his knights. So he did vow before the assembled lords and peers:

“In the days which are now long past Duke Sevin of Bordeaux was cup-brother and swordmate to us and he was loved even as a brother of our own blood. Worthy was he of all good will and high honor and now it seems that he hath left behind him on this earth two sons bred of his spirit as well as of his flesh. For as this young Lord Huon hath treated my messengers, so did his father render homage in the old days to those to whom honor was due.

“Such young lords will be ornaments to our assemblage. And I do swear that when they come hither Huon shall be proclaimed a peer of France, even as he will be confirmed in his holding of Bordeaux and Aquitaine. And Gerard shall be made a member of our own household to his advancement.”

All the lords and peers agreed with the King’s words—save Amaury, who, seeing such a sorry end to his hopes of ruin for Sevin’s sons, knew that he must plot anew. And in his dark mind an evil plan began to grow.

He hurried from the council hall of the King into the apartments- of Prince Chariot where he found the King’s son dallying at ease with some young knights and squires of his following. And there Amaury did fling himself on his knees before the Prince, to clutch at Chariot’s cloak and cry aloud for justice.

The Prince, much amazed at Amaury’s outcry, did send the others from him and demand that the Earl tell him the cause of such distracted actions. Then did Amaury display the blackness of his heart in the words of his crooked mouth.

“Know you, Prince Chariot, your father, deceived by false enemies, is bringing hither to court that traitor Huon of Bordeaux and his brother Gerard. And our King promises to bestow upon Huon the duchies of Bordeaux and Aquitaine which should be rightfully yours. While Gerard the King promises to take into his household where he may secretly work all manner of ill. Once here at court they will work against your Grace, for this Huon and his brother come of bad stock and me they hate so that they will even seek to injure you—since you have played my friend— bringing ruin upon the man through his master. So do I warn you now, Prince Chariot, if these twain enter into this court black evil will come with them and none—even the highest—shall be safe from their wickedness.”

Now was Chariot alarmed at the words of Amaury for in his heart he knew well that he was not well beloved in France and that many of the lords hated him for his ill deeds of the past. So, should Huon and Gerard come to work against him secretly, they would find many to listen to them. Thus, with all his fears and hate aroused, Chariot prayed Amaury to tell him what to do to defend himself against these brothers from Bordeaux.

And Amaury advised Chariot to arm and horse divers of his men and meet secretly with him, Amaury, without the city that they might arrange to deal with Huon and Gerard before they reached the King’s court. Eagerly enough Chariot agreed.

III. HOW AMAURY AND CHARLOT DID LIE IN AMBUSH AND WHAT CHANCED THEREFROM

“The feast of Easter being over Huon and Gerard did prepare to keep their promise to the King. Choosing from among their men divers knights and squires, they did clothe them anew from helm to spur with cunningly made armor that they might make a goodly sight at court. But Huon and Gerard donned no mail, nor did the younger brother even buckle sword belt about him. For they were minded to journey in peace and safety under the protection of the King.

Huon, however, did put on him that sword belt wrought of fine silver and gold which Duke Sevin had worn in war and peace, and from it did hang that good blade, forged far across the seas in the unknown Easter lands by Demons of the Night (or so said the simple folk of the country) which Sevin had swung in battle ofttimes before—to King Charlemagne’s great gain. But of body armor Huon had none, only went at ease in tunic and cloak.

Duchess Aclis wept full sore to see her sons depart thus from Bordeaux. For never since their hour of birth had the twain not been where her eye might sight upon them and now her heart misgave her strangely, for she had secretly dwelt upon all those evils which might chance while Huon and Gerard were apart from her. But of this she said naught lest she shadow the brightness of their adventure and she hid her many tears behind her veil.

Gerard did not ride so boldly forth from the gate, nor did he spur his horse into the freshness of the morning beyond the city. Rather did he amble soberly at the pace of one who goes unwillingly upon a disliked errand so that Huon must needs rein back to company him. And when his brother laughingly chid him for his snail-like creeping, Gerard surprised Huon beyond measure with a breathless answer:

“Brother, I fear me that no good will come to either of us from this venture. Let us back to Bordeaux and that speedily!”

Loud indeed then did Huon laugh, and cry that his brother was a babe and already crying for his mother’s arms. But Gerard showed no anger at this taunt. Rather he turned once more and gazed with great longing at the towers and walls of Bordeaux.

“Evil lies before us,” he continued. “Aye, great evil comes of this journey. Last night I did dream that I rode on this same highway and out of the bushes there did spring upon us a raging leopard his jaws agape with hunger. Me he did bear to earth and rend with dripping fangs so that my soul was driven from my body and I was dead. But you, my brother, escaped his fury. So plain was my dream that I do deem it a warning sent from Heaven that we should not travel on this way—” r But Huon shook his head. “More likely it be an omen sent by the Devil to tempt us from our duty to the King, so that we will break our pledged word. See—this day is fair and the countryside most good to look upon. Our road is smooth before us and behind ride twenty good knights and squires to serve us well. Put aside your foolish fears, Gerard, they are but shadows and no fit musing for a grown knight.”

So Gerard spoke no more. But in his heart he knew anger against his brother, that Huon would so easily dismiss his warning. And he thought that long had it been thus, that Huon, bold and fearless and taking little heed for the future, had set aside the cautions of his younger brother. Yet Huon was loved and praised by all and he, Gerard, was deemed a youngling, not to be given serious heed.

Before nightfall they met with the worthy Abbot of Cluny who was also on his way to court. And both the brothers were most glad to see him, for he was their well-beloved uncle. So did they join their party to his and that night all lay together in friendship at an abbey he chose to visit.

Again in the morning, after breaking their fast, they rode on together and all went very well with them until they reached the top of a hill and could see where the road wound down into the leafy lip of a wood. Huon pulled back his mount and those with him, wondering at his act, did likewise.

Then he pointed out to the company certain flashes of light among the trees below—as if men clad in mail moved there. And so the party hesitated, not knowing what lay before them, hidden in that wood.

Since they were not men of war, the Abbot and his monks and laymen withdrew to the side of the road, and the churchman spoke frankly to Huon, saying:

“Fair sir, I and all my followers are men of peace and good will. If evil men lie in ambush before us, surely they must mean ill to you who ride with armor on your backs and swords at your sides. Therefore, since of war I can have no part, we needs must separate here and go our several ways. For if I shed blood, even in the defending of my own, I have committed black sin. But you are a man of strife and bred to conflict.”

And, as the Abbot was speaking so, out of the trees below a Knight, masked by the lowered visor of his helmet, spurred his horse to that he now barred the path of all who would come down the hill. There he sat silently waiting.

After looking upon this barrier of knight and horse most closely, Huon said to his brother:

“There is no reason for either of us to fear aught of any man living, for we have no quarrels hanging above our heads. You wear no armor, nor do you bear a sword, so all can see that you ride in peace with the world. Get you down now, into the valley and ask of that knight what he would have of us.”

And Gerard obeyed his brother. Coming down into the valley of the wood he reined in his mount before the silent knight and addressed him boldly.

“Good sir, what do you wish of us who would quarrel with no man this day? Know you, I am Gerard of Bordeaux and yonder is my brother Huon, Duke of that same city. We are bound, by the King’s own command, to the court of Charlemagne. Therefore stay us not, lest the justice of the King demand an accounting from you—”

Now the masked knight was Prince Chariot, the King’s son. But he was not minded to speak to Gerard his rightful name. Instead he answered the boy despitefully and with much anger, saying:

“Rash youth, know you that I am son to Duke Thierry, he who hath many times been injured by those of your house. And now I am here to end all his wrongs upon your bodies—doing to death you and that proud cockerel who sits yonder daring to name himself Duke of Bordeaux. The lands of Bordeaux are by all rights mine!”

Gerard being warned by the anger of the knight’s speech would have then fled. But his mount stumbled and Chariot bore down upon the helpless youth, his lance in crouch.

Deep into Gerard’s tender flesh struck the steel so that he was borne from his horse and fell heavily upon the packed earth of the road, and from his side there poured a thick flood of rich blood so that he swooned. Thus he did not hear Chariot’s loud shout of:

““So do I serve mine enemies. As you lie, so shall fall that other dog of Bordeaux!”

But Huon heard that shout and his heart was white-hot with his rage for he believed his young brother dead—foully slain without defense by this masked murderer. And his temper broke all bonds so that to him the whole world was as red as the blood still flowing from Gerard’s slight body.

IV. HOW HUON DID SLAY THE KING’S SON AND RODE TO COURT FOR JUSTICE

When Huon saw his loved brother Gerard lying as one dead in a spreading pool of his own blood, his rage did so rise within him that he took no heed of those about him or of aught else in the whole world save that villain who had struck down the unarmed boy. Drawing that good sword which had so long served his father, Duke Sevin, Huon rode down the hill to meet the unknown knight.

And Chariot, seeing his enemy coming so wildly and recklessly upon him, unarmed save for a sword, with no mail upon his body or helm upon his head, looked forward to an easy battle. He set ready his lance and urged his mount forward to the kill.

But Huon was no untried swordster and, seeing how this stranger meant to spit him cleanly upon lance point, he gathered his cloak about his arm and flung it at the lance—at the same time throwing his body to one side. Thus did Chariot’s lance become entangled in the folds of cloth and Huon passed unharmed by the charge although the sharp point of steel pierced his tunic and bruised the flesh beneath.

As Chariot strove to throw away his lance and free his sword from its scabbard, Huon struck. And so sharp and heavy was the blow that the Prince fell from his charger and was dead even before his body rolled in the roadway.

Huon troubled not to lift the visor of his dead enemy or look closely upon him whom he had killed. Rather did he busy himself with searching out the deep wound in Gerard’s side and binding the yet-welling slash with linen torn from his own back. Having so rudely stanched his brother’s hurt he lifted him up, still a-swoon, into the saddle of his horse and walked beside him out of the valley, leaving the dead Prince in the road alone.

Speedily was Huon joined by the knights and men of his following. And they urged that all must travel without pause lest the companions of the dead knight come out of the wood to cut them down. And all armed themselves for such an attack.

But when they reached again the party of the Abbot of Cluny, he bade them take heart for he had seen, from the hilltop, men come out of the wood to bear away the stranger. And none of these had set out on Huon’s trail.

Huon’s anger was still hot and his heart was dark with misgiving as he looked upon the white face and drooping body of his brother. And out of his deep foreboding he spoke to his men:

“Cursed be King Charlemagne if this deed was of his planning! If it was his secret purpose to so put an end to the line of Sevin—then has he lost. For while I live and stand upright on my two feet and have an arm strong enough to swing my father’s sword, I shall avenge this foul deed. Even in the very beard of the King shall I speak my mind concerning this. For such treachery there is no pardon—that we should be so enticed to our deaths!”

And naught that the Abbot could say would abate the great rage of Huon which was ever freshly kindled by the sight of Gerard who now and again moaned and cried aloud upon the name of Our Lord Jesu for reason of the keen pain of his hurt.

Meanwhile the Earl Amaury did issue forth from his ambush in the wood to speak sharply to those about the body of Chariot, ordering them to take up the dead Prince and tie him across his own saddle. Then, leading the burdened charger with his own hand he, too, rode to the King’s court, followed by his men and those of Chariot’s household. On the way he thought much of the ill he could now do to Huon because of this slaying and how he might best arouse the King’s full wrath against the youth from Bordeaux.

First to reach the court of Charlemagne was Huon and his party. And straight into the King’s presence they strode, bearing with them on a litter, fashioned of cloaks and lances, the swooning Gerard.

All those assembled there—peers, nobles and King—were much astounded at such a coming but Huon went boldly to the foot of the throne and cried aloud so that all fell silent to hear him:

“Is this the justice of King Charlemagne?”

The pride of his bearing was such that anger arose in the King’s throat for no man had so fronted him since the days of his youth. And he would have made swift return to such insolence but he was minded to know the wherefore of this strange entrance. So he made reply in more moderate voice than those of his following expected to hear, saying:

“How now, stripling. Why comest thou hither in such clamor demanding to know of our justice? Who are you and who is this youth you bear on a litter?”

“Know you, Lord King,” returned Huon, still proud of bearing, “I am that Huon of Bordeaux, son of Duke Sevin, whom you by royal decree did summon to you. And this be my brother Gerard who lies here sore stricken because, though wearing no sword or armor, he was set upon most foully by a full armored knight.

^ “Was it by your pleasure that we were so waylaid and attacked? If it was—look you now upon your handiwork and rejoice, noble King!”

Quickly Huon stooped and tore away the cloak which was wrapped about Gerard so that all might see the stained linen about his wound and how the rising blood made it like unto a corselet of ruby.

Then did Huon draw his sword and set it before him. And the torches and cresslights picked out the shining steel save where the blood of Chariot, now dried, dimmed the gleam.

“Look you here also, Lord King. These stains are the blood of the murderer who now lies dead himself—and by my hand. For so do we of Bordeaux pay just debts!”

King Charlemagne looked upon Gerard even as Huon had bade him and his heart was moved to see so fair a youth lying in such extremity. No longer was his anger turned against Huon, but rather against those who had wrought so ill a deed. And when he made answer it was a firm promise.

“Hotly do you speak, Lord Huon. But if I stood so, doubtless my words would also be aheat with just anger. Know you that this deed is as foul in my eyes as it is in yours and he who did it shall be searched out—if he who planned it was not the same who struck down your brother and was so fitly punished! Listen, all ye assembled here, it was by my will that these youths were summoned hither and what touches them, touches also me. Therefore they shall be as my sons and do you so receive them.

“Bring hither those skilled in leechcraft and let them look to the wounds of the Lord Gerard that he may be comforted.”

So was it done as the King commanded and the leeches did say that Gerard would be healed of his hurt.’

But for Chariot there was no healing in this world and Amaury thought only of how to turn the Prince’s death to his own account.

V. OF THE EVIL AMAURY WROUGHT WITH HIS LYING TONGUE

Now at sunset of that same day there came riding into the King’s city the Earl Amaury leading Chariot’s charger with his master’s body bound upon its back. And as he rode within the gates Amaury raised a great wailing cry of grief, as did all those who rode with him. So hearing this sad lament the townspeople gathered and they too wept at such a woeful sight. Straight into the presence of Charlemagne did Amaury ride, finding the King at wine with Huon and the other peers.

Before the King, Amaury did unloose the body of the Prince so that it slipped to the floor with a crash of armor and lay at the father’s feet. Then the traitor Earl cried aloud so that all there did hark unto him, saying:

“Look you upon the body of Prince Chariot who has been most foully done to death. Slain, my King and lords, by this villain who dares to sit now in the high seat of honor—namely, Huon of Bordeaux!”

Huon, looking closely at the body, knew it for that of the knight who had wounded Gerard and later fallen by his own sword. And he marveled at Amaury’s words for he had not knowingly struck down Chariot. So that now he made answer quietly enough:

“Lord King, this corpse lying here is that of the stranger knight who did wound my brother and whom I did kill in fit punishment for so black a deed—my brother being unarmed—”

But while he yet spoke Amaury dropped to his knees and freed the head of the dead man from its helmet so that all there assembled might see the still face. And from the throat of the old King there broke a pitiful cry. Deeply had he loved Chariot and here now lay his son, slain in the full pride of his youth.

“My son!” That cry rang through the halls and pierced the hearts of all who heard it, for the depth of the King’s sorrow was bared in his words.

“Aye, your son, Lord King. And there stands the false Huon whom you cherish and yet who hath killed Chariot. We were hunting in the forest as the Prince was wont to do and, having loosed his falcon against fair prey, he was vexed when the bird returned not—so he needs must pursue it. Whilst we rode so, unheeding of our path, we came upon a road where this suckling rogue was passing, the Prince’s own falcon upon his wrist. When Prince Chariot demanded that his own be returned to him this same Huon and his brother set upon the Prince, cutting him down without When he heard such lies the rage arose within Huon so that at first it choked speech from him. But he cast his glove so that it struck the Earl full across his false lips.

“Thou liest!” cried the young lord of Bordeaux when he could again command his voice.

But King Charlemagne had made a secret sign to his guards to take the Duke, and that they now did, bearing him down with their strength and binding fast his arms in spite of his struggles.

“Strike off the head of this murderer!” roared the King.

But, as his guards would have obeyed. Duke Naymes held him off, saying:

“By all the laws of chivalry and knighthood, we cannot so use this youth. He hath named Amaury ‘Liar’ and hath challenged him to prove the truth of his tale with his body—Our Lord God standing as the Judge of both. Such is his right and no earthly King may take it from him!”

Charlemagne was dour with wrath but he saw that all the peers and lords of the court were of Naymes’ mind and, Ahat if he wrought his will upon Huon, trouble would come of it. So he was forced to agree. But he did so grudgingly and with black hatred in his heart.

“Let them fight according to the uses of chivalry,” he said slowly. “And may God bring justice to this murderer. But likewise may it be recorded now that if either be slain before he confesses fault in the matter, then the other is straightway banished from this realm never to return!”

A strong outcry arose from all because of this injustice—for all knew that either might be killed in the heat of battle in such a way that he would have no time for confession. Naymes spoke strongly to the King, but to no avail, and Charlemagne’s will in this was so set that no man might sway him.

Huon then went forth with Naymes who was pledged to keep him safe against the morrow when he would meet Amaury in the field. And the Earl withdrew likewise leaving court and King to mourn the fallen Prince.

VI. HOW HUON DEALT WITH AMAURY IN COMBAT AND THE DOOM LAID UPON HIM THEREAFTER

Early in the morning his squires came in to Huon where he lay in the hold of Duke Naymes and roused him from his sleep. On his body they did put fair clean linen and over that a hauberk of leather. Then did the Duke bring to the youth fine mail wrought by craftsmen working to his own secret pattern. This Huon discovered to be light yet supple so that he who wore it was as one free from armor. So armed he rode for the field yet fasting, a war stallion of the color of fresh spilled blood between his knees. Duke Naymes on his right hand and the squire of his body going before with his plumed helmet and shield.

Since Huon rode thus uncovered all those about the field marveled at his youth and the comeliness of his features, saying amongst themselves that not even a king’s son in his pride could equal this Duke out of Bordeaux. Such whisperings reached even to the ears of Charlemagne where he sat in state and they fanned the hotter his wrath against the slayer of his son.

Amaury came to the place of combat with an easy mind, for he deemed Huon but a green boy with no knowledge of lance or sword play, no fit match for a warrior of many years’ seasoning. But, as he rode into the view of the court, his black charger stumbled so that the Earl, who was riding ‘ easy, was near to being unhorsed. And those watching felt this to be a dark omen.

But Amaury straightened in his saddle and put on his helmet with a steady hand, having confidence in himself and his strength.

Huon too put on his helmet, slung his shield upon his arm and took up the lance his squire held ready. His bright roan pawed the turf and thundered a challenge of its own to the black which Amaury curbed with a heavy hand.

Then, at the word given by the King himself, they charged. Amaury aimed his lance at Huon’s helmet. He knew such a stroke to be a master one which only a skillful man might dare to attempt— yet so sure was he of the coming battle that he might have been a boy teasing a harmless kitten.

But Huon chose the safer attack, guessing at what might lie in Amaury’s mind. So that when they met in their course he swung aside his head and the Earl’s lance thrust only into the thinness of air. But Huon’s lance struck straight and true into the center of the other’s shield with such force that not only Amaury but also his attacker were hurled from their saddles.

On foot both cast aside their useless lances and drew their swords. And the Earl was so angered by his overthrow that he came against Huon without caution, having even thrown from him his shield that he might strike a two-handed blow.

Huon still clung to his shield and with it he caught the blow which Amaury aimed to cut him down. Deep into the iron stove the blade in such a way that the Earl could not speedily withdraw it again. Then did Huon strike in his turn, so clean a blow where neck met shoulder that the strong mail Amaury was wearing was but as a piece of silk. And Amaury’s head, still within his plumed helm, rolled across the dusty ground, even to the very foot of the King’s chair.

Those gathered about the lists raised a cry of amazement, for no one of them had really believed in his heart that Huon could overcome Amaury. And the King’s crafty heart leaped also—for if Huon were not dead in truth, he would speedily be dead to France—since Amaury had been killed before confessing falseness. And so did the heralds proclaim the King’s will at his signal.

When the harsh decree of banishment was read, all the lords about the throne raised their voices in protest and Duke Naymes led their Outcry, saying:

“Lord King, what sorrow will you do with these hard words? This youth hath proved in battle, with God judging the right, that he spoke true words before you. Since he slew Prince Chariot unwittingly, he is not to be thought a murderer. Do you devise some punishment which will not set him for all his lifetime far from those who hold him dear!”

King Charlemagne’s anger was waxing strong, but also did he see that his lords were in open rebellion against him in this matter. So he spoke quietly, as if he had been moved by the speech of Naymes.

’Truly Huon hath done much evil—taking from me in my old age the son of my heart and from France her king to be. But likewise is it true that God Himself hath given this youth victory in this strife. Therefore, lest I be too harsh I shall lay upon Huon a quest, such as was the custom of chivalry in bygone times. And he is not to return to France—under the pain of shameful death— until this quest be successfully finished. What say you to that, Duke Naymes?”

Naymes, seeing that the King could be moved no farther in Huon’s behalf, assented with a bowed head.

“This then is the quest of Huon of Bordeaux,” proclaimed Charlemagne. “Let him go out of France into the very stronghold of the Saracens— the City of Babylon. There he must go into the court of Emir Gaudys who ruleth that city. And he shall take from the chin of Gaudys a handful of the beard which groweth there, from the mouth of Gaudys shall he take five teeth, and from the body of Gaudy’s chief lord shall he strike the head—cutting it off in the full sight of all who are men of Gaudys. To me he shall bring this hair and teeth. In addition he must salute upon the mouth Gaudys’ daughter—in sight of her father’s court!”

Now when Huon heard the conditions of the quest his heart was desolate for he believed that no living man, unless he had more than mortal assistance, could survive such deeds. And so he said to King and court:

“My King, you send now to his certain death one who has wished you well all his days. May all men hearing my story in times hereafter judge between us.”

Then he said no more but went to the bedside of his brother Gerard into whose keeping he gave Bordeaux and his other lands. Then, taking a sorrowful farewell of Gerard, he chose divers knights and squires of his following and set forth to obey the commands of the King.

VII. HOW HUON DEPARTED FROM FRANCE AND GERARD RULED IN BORDEAUX

With a heart full of sorrow Huon took ship with his men and sailed to the ancient land of Italy where they came at length to that city which lies in the center of the world, namely, Rome. And there did the young Duke beg audience with the Holy Father. And His Holiness was pleased to receive him, saying:

“Long ago was thy father close to me and now it giveth me happiness to look upon the son of his body who is truly made after the same good fashion as my ancient friend—for of thee, Huon of Bordeaux, I have heard only good report. Tell me now, my son, what has brought thee from France to our gates?”

Then did Huon give tongue to all the evil which had fastened upon him and tell of the hard task laid upon him by Charlemagne. And he spoke full sadly of his future, saying that he knew that he now rode to his death. But when such words crossed his lips. His Holiness stopped him with upraised hand and chid him gently thus:

“My son, know you that all things are possible to him who believeth upon Our Gracious Lord— even as He Himself hath said. Go you forth armed in faith and you shall conquer—yes, even though against you stand in mailed might all the awful forces of the heathen.”

And at these words Huon’s heart was lightened of a heavy care and he was as a man who has been freed from heavy chains. His Holiness then bid Huon seek out the Duke Garyn, he who was kin to Duke Sevin and now abode at St. Omar. And Huon did as he was commanded, finding Garyn a knight of no little renown, well marked by all the realm of Christendom.

Duke Garyn welcomed the youth with open arms, taking him to his bosom and proclaiming him one to sit in the place of the son and heir he had never known. Because, as he told Huon, the boy was as the Duke Sevin had been in his first youth and Duke Sevin was his own brother. Thus did Huon meet with his uncle and receive much honor and kindness from him.

When the time came that Huon and his men must take ship for the land of the Saracens, Duke Garyn called to him his lady wife and said:

“Look you well, my lady, to the affairs of this duchy for I am minded to sail with my nephew so that he ventures not alone into this great danger.”

His lady wept full sore as she replied to her lord thus:

“My good lord, much do I fear to see you go from me, for evil have been my dreams of late and I think that if you go we shall not look upon your face again in this world. But if this be your will then I will say naught. All shall be ordered as you wish and I shall hold your duchy against your return.”

Having so spoken she went privately to Huon and asked of him that he would watch over her lord and see that no harm came to him, for deeply did she love the Duke Garyn. And Huon swore upon the Cross that all would be as she asked and no harm would come to his uncle if he, Huon of Bordeaux, could prevent.

But still she wept, hiding her tear-besmeared face in the long sleeves of her robe as Garyn and Huon rode forth from the hold of St. Omar.

Now while Huon journeyed thus half the world away, his brother Gerard, having recovered of the wound dealt him by Prince Chariot, arose from his bed and rode home to Bordeaux. The Duchess Aclis had a man at watch in the tower and when he sighted the pennons on the lances of those in Gerard’s company, he called that joyful news to all the keep, bringing the household out in haste to welcome their returning lords.

But when Gerard came alone into the courtyard the Duchess put her hands to her breast as if to ward off a fatal sword thrust and cried:

“Where is thy brother? Why ride you alone?”

So Gerard needs must tell her the whole sorry tale at once. And upon the hearing of it she uttered a shriek, in so loud a voice that all the city heard it and the people trembled at its meaning. So having given voice to her woe she fell as one dead upon the pavement.

Her maidens bore her speedily to her chamber, but she never spoken again, for her heart was broken and she was with her lord in Paradise.

For long dark days Gerard did mourn both mother and brother—for he deemed Huon to be dead also, since no mortal man might safely fulfill the quest Charlemagne had laid upon him. Gerard spoke not to those about him, nor did he break his fast, until at last one of the old knights who had served as his tutor in arms came to him and said:

“My lord, grievous indeed have been these misfortunes laid upon you. But weeping rouses not the dead to life again. Bordeaux needs a lord and you must now take the high seat and rule here, even as did your worthy father and brother before you.”

So did Gerard become Duke of Bordeaux and he liked it full well, in time forgetting Huon and the fact that he was only lord in Bordeaux by reason of his brother’s ill fortune. For to him Huon was now as dead as if his body lay in the tomb of the Dukes. In the past he had known envy of his brother and had dreamed secret dreams of being great when Huon was naught. Now he lived those dreams in truth.

After some time he took to wife a daughter of Gyblerde of Cecyll who was distantly of the blood of that Amaury who had brought such misfortune to the House of Duke Sevin. She was a lady of wondrous dark beauty, both witty and sharp of tongue, and deeply learned in certain black arts which made her feared by the commoners throughout the countryside. But of her family Gerard did not think, being pleased by her person and beguiled by the forbidden knowledge she held.

And he came to listen overmuch to her words and those of her father, who was as crafty and double-tongued as any rogue within the borders of France.

And thus did evil enter into Bordeaux without the knowledge of its rightful lord, Duke Huon.

VIII. HOW HUON MET WITH THE HERMIT GERAMES AND TOOK THE ROAD THROUGH THE FAIRY WOOD

The merchant ship wherein Huon and the Duke Garyn and all their tram traveled set them ashore upon a barren, cliff-bound land far from all the cities of the Saracens, for Huon wished none to know of his coming until he won to Babylon itself. Taking to horse once more, he and his uncle and their men rode inland towards the rising sun which was the way to Babylon.

At length they came upon. the edge of a vast wasteland across which lay open to them two faintly marked paths. One ran through the waste where could be seen only bare rock and sand burnt and baked by the fierce sun, with no trees or other green things to relieve the eye. But the other way went on into a pleasant woodland where the trees were a living promise of springs of water.

This road did Huon choose and had turned his charger into it when out of a misshapen hut piled loosely from the desert rocks there sprang one in the rags of a hermit to bar their way.

About his loins was the torn skin of a lion and his gray hair hung in wild ragged locks upon his bone-thin shoulders. A long beard covered him to his girdle, but his eyes were still afire with reason and strength, and he bore himself as one who had once had authority in the world beyond this starved land.

“Pray you, fair sir,” he cried unto Huon, “by your dress and the cross you bear upon your shield you are a Christian knight. If you be truly so, heed now the warning of one who, though now fallen on evil times, once held his lands of a Christian king!”

Much astounded by such a greeting, Huon reined in his mount and bade the man speak on, telling how he came to live in so desolate a spot.

“Once was I the Knight Gerames who did ride upon the right hand of good Duke Sevin of Bordeaux. But desiring to look upon the Sepulcher of Our Lord Jesu, I sailed hither and my pilgrim ship was set upon by those wolves of the sea, the pirates of the Crescent. By them, I and all those with me were sold into slavery and after some years I escaped my chains to flee here into the wilderness where none thought to seek me. For in seven years you have been the first to ride these ancient roads. Know you not that these be evil lands for Christian men? What hard fate brought you hither?”

Huon replied with the tale of the quest set upon him and how he and his uncle were on their way now into Babylon to obey the orders of Charlemagne.

When Gerames learned that Huon was son to his old lord, Duke Sevin, tears came out upon his hairy cheeks and he seized upon the youth’s hand to kiss it—vowing that he would follow Huon even to the death from that hour forward.

But again he begged them to turn aside from the path through the wood, saying:

“This wood is wrought of magic, being one of those strange places where the world of Fairy touches upon the world of men. Oberon who is king among the People of the Hills is wont to ride among those trees with his Fairy lords. And should he sight a mortal man and speak to him, and that man replyeth—why then the mortal is under the spell of Fairy and must do all which Oberon requireth of him for all his days. Many powerful and sturdy knights have been so lost.”

Huon looked again at the burning heat of the desert land and saw how there was lacking there all manner of shade and other refreshment. And then he turned to the cool promised by the woodland and it drew him strangely. He asked:

“How does it chance if the mortal answers not the words of King Oberon? Is he still caught up in the Fairy spell?”

Gerames shook his head. “Nay. Unless a man speaketh to King Oberon, the Lord of Fairies hold- eth no power over him.”

“Then,” said Huon, “shall we keep our tongues within our jaws and be safe even if the dread king meets us. Beneath this hot sun we shall surely fail and die if we go into the desert, but if we go by the forest way we shall have shade and water to sustain us.”

So did they ride by the wood road even though Gerames still prophesied that ill would come of it. When they came into the heart of the forest they heard the sound of a huntsman’s silver horn and into sight galloped a fair company of knights clad all in that green which is the favorite color of those from the Hills.

He who kept to the fore was a youth of such shining beauty that his like has never been seen in the world of mortal men. And splendid was his dress, the green being overlaid with much silver and gold, and his sword belt set with rows of gleaming pearls, his knight’s spurs roweled with diamonds.

But in stature he was but a small child and on his black horse he appeared as a boy of ten years until you saw the wisdom and maturity of his face.

Seeing Huon and his company the small youth did halt his chase and he put down on his saddlebow the horn he had been sounding to say:

“How now, proud mortal. Who are you who dares to come within the boundaries of my kingdom?” And to all their ears his voice had the sweetness of open song.

But Huon and those with him remembered the warning of Gerames and they made no answer, so that King Oberon was angered by their discourtesy.

“Sit clapp-fast, ye villains!” he cried. “And see what your clownishness will cost you!”

He then put spur to his mount and rode off, his lords behind him. While Gerames said to Huon:

“Lord, let us make haste out of this wood for I think that this Fairy King means us some mischief.”

Thus did Huon and all his company use whip and spur and tried to speed out of that ill-omened wood. But before they reached its outer fringe there arose such a tempest as no man of that party had seen before.

Trees were torn by the wind to fall across their way and there came down upon them much water as if a river had been gathered up from its bed to be thrown at these invading mortals. Grievous was their plight and Huon feared that here he would end his quest, nevermore to see the high towers of Bordeaux.

IX. HOW HUON MADE HIS PEACE WITH OBERON AND GAINED THEREBY

As the tempest encompassed them about and the spears of the wind thrust in upon them, those who were with Huon cried out against their sore fate and bewailed this, death which was now coming to them in a land so far from all they loved. Some of them spoke out against Huon, saying that he had brought them to this ill pass and that the storm had risen from the wrath of King Oberon, for no wind not born of magic could be so fierce. This did Huon likewise believe and answered his men thus:

“Aye, by my lack of thought has this evil come to us—so that the innocent suffer beside me for my folly. Would that I might behold once more the dread King of Fairy and plead with him for the lives of you who have faithfully followed me even to this pass—”

And, even as he so spoke into the jaws of that horrific wind, they heard, above the screech of the storm, the silver notes of a hunting horn. Across the fallen trees cantered the small lord of that forbidden world, still followed by his Elf knights. Close did he ride to where those of the mortal world huddled and he addressed Huon, saying:

“Who are thou who comes riding hither without leave of any of our world?”

And Huon, although Gerames plucked warningly at his sleeve, made quick answer.

“My Lord King, I am Huon, sometime Duke of Bordeaux within the realm of France, now riding exiled as a simple knight upon a quest set me by King Charlemagne because of his hot anger against me.”

“And what crime didst thou commit to set so generous a king, known alike to our world and yours, against you?” queried Oberon.

“No crime save to defend myself against death,” declared Huon boldly. And he took heart, for about them now the tempest was stayed, no waters came nigh and the wind had died away. So did he make known to Oberon all that had befallen him since that long-ago day when he had left the gates of Bordeaux to attend the court of France.

“Ill indeed has been your fortune,” observed the Fairy King. “No mortal can do what the King has demanded of you and come alive through the doing of it. But what a mortal cannot do, those of my realm can. Therefore, since you have been the first man in full five hundred years to speak me boldly, I shall give to you certain aids—which, if you use them wisely, may win you what you desire.

“First—see you this horn? At my birth certain spells were set upon it by the wise women from beyond the end of the world. Gloriande did enchant it so that a soft note from it does blast all illness known to man or fairy. Two notes bring end to all hunger and thirst—by the decree of the Lady Translyne. Blow yet louder upon it, said the Lady Margole, and the heavy heart shall be lightened and all sorrow fade from the mind. While a strong blast has the power to summon aid to your side in time of trouble, by the will of the Wise Lempatrix. This horn will I give unto you, asking only that you use it with full wisdom, not idly as might a child in play. For when you sound the note set by Lempatrix I, myself, and all my company must obey its summons to fight beside you.”

Oberon then took from about his neck the chain which held this wondrous horn and dropped it about Huon’s shoulders so that it lay upon the young knight’s breast, and he stood dumbstruck at such a gift. The Fairy King waited not for any thanks but drew from the folds of his tunic a cup of pearl and silver which, in that dark forest, shone with a rosy light of its own.

“This too is a treasure, equal in worth to the horn of many voices, for he who carries it need never thirst, also will he be warned as to what manner of company he keeps. If an honest man raises this cup to his lips he shall find it full of the finest wine. But should one of a dark and evil heart seek to drink, the cup shall be as the desert sand, empty and sere. Take -thou this, also, that it may serve you in its own way.”

The cup was put into Huon’s two hands and he stood staring into it. After a long moment he dared to raise it to his lips and it was as Oberon had promised, brimming rich and rare with wine.

Deep did the young knight drink and yet when he held the cup from him it was still brim deep. So did Huon then pass it to Garyn and so about the company and for all of them it remained full. And from their drinking all were greatly heartened and knew no more thirst.

Many were the thanks which Huon did give to Oberon for the gift of these so great treasures but the only reply the Fairy King would make was this:

“Follow thy quest to the end, Huon of Bordeaux, and I shall be rewarded by thy courage, for about you there is much which touches my heart—why, I know not. Save that wise women have foretold that I shall come to have a sword-brother and cupmate of mortal birth and mayhap thou are that man. Go now without fear, for naught within the bounds of this forest will harm you and your road is plain to follow.”

Before Huon could make answer Oberon and his knights were gone, disappearing into the dark of the forest where they were swallowed up as if they had never been. Huon and his companions then got to horse and rode on along the path which Oberon had pointed out to them. And at length they came out of the Fairy wood into a land of meadows and streams.

When they were free of the forest Huon’s men began to talk among themselves of the gifts their lord now carried. And some of them said that mayhap it was only a spell laid upon them in the Fairy wood which made such marvels seem to be. But out in these fields Oberon’s power was naught and neither horn nor cup would obey their master. So did they talk and talk until Huon grew angered and wearied at their unbelief And, thinking to! put a stop to their clacking tongues, he raised the horn and blew a deep blast.

Above them the sky clouded darkly and from | the ground before them there shot up to these gloomy heavens a pillar of green flames from the heart of which burst forth Oberon and his Elf knights, shields before them and naked, burning swords in their hands.

“Where stands your enemy?” shouted Oberon and all the field rang with his cry.

Then was Huon ashamed of what he had done and fearful in his heart of what the Fairy King would say concerning his foolishness. But he dismounted from his charger and came humbly to stand before Oberon to confess his fault.

Oberon’s face flushed with anger and his green eyes were as coals of wrath within his head. But when Huon had confessed with manly readiness the full sum of his foolishness the Fairy King shook his head sadly and replied:

“Alas, Huon, many and grave are the dangers before you and deep will be your sorrow before you finish with this task. So put aside these childish follies lest you fare so ill that even I cannot bring you free. Use not the horn again unless you stand in such peril as you can see of it no easement but death. Or else I shall take back my gift and leave you to perish after your own foolish fashion!”

Huon did then swear by the Cross that never again would he use the gifts lightly, but rather would he guard them with his life. And Oberon and his knights retired into the pillar of flame and so were gone.

But Huon and those who followed him rode on through the countryside until against the sky the walls and towers of a city were to be seen. There they determined to spend the night.

X. WHICH TELLETH OF THE CITY OF TORMONT AND WHAT CHANCED THEREIN

When the knights of France came nigh unto the gates of the strange city a voice called out to them, saying:

“By the crosses which ye bear so boldly limned upon thy shields ye be Christian men. Fly hence, and that speedily, if ye would keep life within thy bodies—for this be the City of Tormont and our lord is one Macaire who hath a great and burning hate for all Christians and hath sworn that all who fall into his hands shall be short of a head!”

But Huon called in answer:

“Night is full upon us and we seek shelter. Nor do we have any fear of your dread lord. Unbar the gate that we may enter into Tormont.”

So did it pass that they came into the city and on the other side of the gates they found awaiting them he who had warned them—Gonder, Steward of Tormont, an honest man. And when he saw that they could not be persuaded to flee beyond the wrath of Macaire he urged them to go with him to his own dwelling where they might yet be safe.

Now Tormont was a city of fine houses and tall towers, but within her streets was a great multitude of beggars and sore was their state so that Huon and his companions felt much pity for them. And Huon asked of Gonder why so many suffered thus. The Steward replied that it was by the will of Lord Macaire who was deep in all manner of wickedness.

When they came into Gender’s house Huon took from his belt a purse of gold and gave it into Steward’s hands, saying:

“Taking this and go into the market place, there buying all meat and bread, such as is necessary for a feast. Then have hither all these men and women who beg in the streets and give them to eat, so that tonight no one within Tormont will go hungry to bed.”

Gonder did as Huon bade him. And from all the ways of Tormont came the beggars to eat of the food set out for them. Huon then did bring out the magic cup and passed it among all that company. To everyone who ate there it was full of its bounty and to none did it stand empty. So merry indeed was the feasting.

As the hour waxed late Huon took from his neck the chain of the Fairy horn and gave the wondrous gift into Gonder’s keeping with these words:

“Take thou this horn and treasure it well, that it may not be lost no matter how merry we become. For it is the chief of all my holdings and it must not be taken from me.”

Gonder did hang the horn about his own neck and swear to Huon that he would hold it from all harm.

Now Macaire, the Lord of Tonnont, sent into the market place the servants of his palace to buy meat for his table. Shortly they did return to him saying that there was no meat left to be boughten, for a stranger had purchased it all for a feast to be given to the city beggars. And even now all the poor of the town were eating it in the house of Gonder.

Much astonished at such tidings Macaire thought that he must see for himself this outlander who was feeding the beggars of Tormont. So he did put on him a long cloak of dusty black, such as the poorest of the town did wear, and, with his knights, he went down into the town. Leaving his men without in the street, he went into Gonder’s house and seated himself humbly at one of the far tables, looking about him slyly at all that passed.

Now it chanced that shortly after the Lord of Tormont crept in among them, Huon came to the table where Macaire had seated himself, bearing the Fairy cup which he offered to all who sat there. But when the cup came into Macaire’s grasp and he raised it to drink—lo—the wine was gone and he held only an empty cup!

“What manner of man art thou?” cried Huon. “For no honest man does this cup go dry!” Reaching forth his hand he pulled from Macaire’s head the hood of his beggar’s cloak.

And Gonder shouted: “He is Macaire, Lord of Tormont!”

Before they could lay hand upon him Macaire rushed to the street door and called to his men to come and take these outlanders. But Huon and the other French knights were not to be so easily captured. They fought their way out and through the crowded streets until they won to a strong watchtower which stood in the very heart of Tormont. There they did set upon the few guardsmen at its portal and put them to the sword, thus gaining the protection of strong walls.

Outside this tower, Macaire gathered all the might of Tormont, thinking that in time hunger and thirst would drive its defenders into his hands. Huon saw that this might come, for there was no escape from this hold save through the forces drawn up against them.

Then did Duke Garyn urge him thus:

“Sound now the horn which King Oberon did give you—for this is so great a peril that he will grant your call a rightful one.”

Huon put his hand to his breast and in that moment recollected that he had given the horn into Gonder’s keeping and had it not. When he told this to the others they did reproach him for his great folly and he answered them not, for he knew that what they said to him was true.

But meanwhile Gonder remembered the horn and how this stranger, now pent within the watchtower, had said that it was the chief of his treasures. So he determined to take it to him, since secretly in his heart Gonder hated the Lord Macaire for the many evils he had wrought,

He went openly to Macaire and said:

“Lord, let me go and speak unto these outlanders. Since they trust me, mayhap I can counsel them into surrender by pointing out in what dire straits they now lie.”

Macaire agreed, for he was minded to win the tower with as little bloodshed as possible and these strangers had already proved themselves stout warriors.

XI. HOW HUON DID CALL UP THE ELF KNIGHTS AND OF THE DOOM OF MACAIRE

Gonder went openly to the gate of the watchtower, unarmed and bearing no weapons, but carrying in his hands a scarf of white silk that those within might know that he came in peace. At Huon’s order the way was unbarred and he came in, to address the Lord from Bordeaux thus:

“Macaire will have thy heads from thy shoulders if ye surrender to him, therefore listen not to any promises which he may make thee, for they will be as false as river quicksand which entrapeth the traveler to his doom. Ye can expect no mercy from him and I can truly see naught before ye but death. But I have brought hither this horn which he did entrust to me, saying that it was the greatest of thy treasures.”

Huon fairly snatched the magic horn from Gonder, crying aloud:

“Good Steward, with this horn you have brought us our deliverance, as you and all of Tormont shall now see!”

And putting horn to lip he blew such a blast as echoed from the towers and walls of all the city, into the very heart of Heaven itself. With that sounding came a wind like unto the tempest they had known in the wood of Fairy.

A sword of fire clove the sky above Tormont and out of that light came the bat-winged horses of the Hills ridden by Oberon’s forces. Each Elf knight’s sword swung loose in his hand and as they rode down the wind into the city they cried aloud the battle cries of their own world which lies beyond the rim of mortal earth.

At this dread sight those who followed Macaire were greatly afeared and some fled. But others, of a stronger breed, stood fast. And Huon and his men issued forth to do battle with these.

Then began such a clamor as was never before heard upon this earth. Red streams of brave men’s blood did fill the gutters of the streets and bodies lay within every doorway and upon every threshold. For there was no stopping the vengeance of the Elf knights. Nor were the men of France behind them in the harrowing of Tormont. Mighty were the deeds done by Huon and Garyn and Gerames and those who followed them.

At long last there remained none in the whole city to stand against them. And chief among the slain lay Macaire who, evil though his life had been, fought valiantly against all comers and did not fall until the very end of the battle. So did Huon mourn that so brave a man had lived so ill. When Tormont was cleansed of this false lord and those who had done his wicked will, Oberon came to Huon and said:

“As we promised, we came to your aid and now this city has fallen and lies within your hand to do with as you will. What is your plan for Tormont?”

Huon looked upon this once fair city now torn and brought to deep suffering through battle, and he considered before he answered.

“Tormont I do not want, nor do I think that any of those in my train will wish to reign here, so far from our native land. Therefore let Gonder, who is an honest man, rule as Torment’s lord. And we shall go our way.”

All those with Huon agreed and thus did the Steward Gonder become Lord of Tormont. And so well and long did he rule that in later years Tormont became one of the greatest cities of the Saracen land, to the glory of its people. But never more did Huon or those with him behold its towers again.

Rather did they go out into the countryside where Oberon and his Elf knights bid them farewell, only first did the Fairy King lay upon Huon another warning, namely:

“So far upon your quest have you come without hurt and may it so continue with you. But I fear that it will not be so for long, for you are a rash youth and have little knowledge of the world. Forget not this warning which I give you now, for your remembrance of it will mean much good or ill in the future. Speak always the full truth and let no manner of falsehood pass your lips. For if you lie you will lose my aid and be your need ever so great, I shall not come to you.”

Huon swore loudly that he would do as Oberon wished, that no falsehood would he utter. But the Fairy King still looked with sorrow upon him as if he saw ill coming in the future.

Before he went out from the mortal world Oberon raised up out of the wilderness a fine pavilion to house all the French company, and brought out of the air by his magic a goodly banquet for their feasting.

Now many among them nursed deep wounds taken in the fighting and when Huon saw their plight he said:

“Since this quest was laid upon me only, I shall ride alone to its finish. Stay you here and tend your hurts until I come again. But if I come not within the next waxing and waning of the moon, count me as one dead and bear back to Bordeaux the story of our faring.”

They all cried out against this, but Huon would not listen to their hot protests. Then, at last, Gerames said:

“Before you now lies the Castle of Dunother where dwells the Giant Angalafar. Take another road and avoid this one danger.”

But when Huon had bade them all be of good cheer and farewell, he chose the road to Dunother, being minded to see the famed hold of the Giant Angalafar.

XII. HOW HUON FARED AT CASTLE DUNOTHER

Dunother arose gray and grim from a barren plain. From its stark towers no banners flew and there was about it an air of ill omen, so that Huon was half-minded to ride by it. Only to his ears there sounded a regular thud-thudding noise for which he could see no source until he came, drawn by curiosity, to the gate.

There stood, on either side of the portal, two giants fashioned of steel and brass by a skill which was that of no mortal man. In the hands of these giants rested thick clubs of iron and with these clubs they beat the ground before the gate so that nothing might pass through and escape horrible death. Huon watched for a long time but he could see no instant when one or the other of the clubs was not in motion.

As he so watched he heard a voice call to him and, lilting his eyes to the tower above the gate, he saw in a window there a damsel of much beauty and few years. She did cry upon him to wait, and shortly after the giants ceased their pounding so that Huon might ride through the now open gate to the courtyard where the damsel stood awaiting him.

When he did dismount and come to her she did weep most piteously and cling to him, saying:

“Oh, gentle lord, for seven years no mortal man has ridden hither in answer to my prayers—so have I served a loathly giant as handmaiden without hope of succor. I pray you, free me from this fate. Know you I am Sebylle, once a maiden of high degree in the kingdom of France. But my father did choose to come to this foul land upon a holy pilgrimage. And while he was so gone from me, my lady mother died and I was left desolate. So did I determine to follow my father. But when I came into this country I found no man who could tell me of him. And then the caravan with which I journeyed was overwhelmed by Angalafar. The men he killed at once, but he had never before sighted a Christian maid. So he brought me hither where I am a serving wench in his household.”

Huon’s anger quickened as he heard her tale and he promised in his heart that he would have the life of Angalafar for the way he had served a maid of France. So when the maiden came to herself and urged him to leave before the Giant returned, he refused all her pleas.

“You will only meet your death because of your stubbornness,” she told him sorrowfully. “For Angalafar hath a suit of mail which cannot be riven by any lance or sword forged by man. Wearing it he cannot be conquered. Nor can another man put it on him save by Angalafar’s own wish. As long as he lives will that be so.”

When Huon heard this he thirsted greatly for that suit of mail and vowed that he would have it from Angalafar, to serve him even as it had served the Giant for many years. But the maiden began to mourn as if Huon were already dead before her eyes and reproached him with his stubbornness in not fleeing Dunother before Angalafar returned.

Bidding her be of good heart Huon lingered through the day, eating of the fine meats the damsel served him and drinking the wine from his magic cup. And in the cool of the evening Angalafar returned to the castle, a whole ox held beneath his arm as one might carry a pet hare.

Truly a fearsome sight was this monster, being more than thirty feet tall and having the tusks of a wild boar to serve him as teeth. But he was in a good humor because of the ox, so that when Huon came boldly out before him he did not smite him instantly but rather roared at him the questions of who was he and why had he come to Dunother.

Huon replied without fear, cheerily enough.

“It is told through this land that you do keep such a suit of mail as no mortal man has seen— since it holds its wearer safe from all attack. I am Huon of Bordeaux, a knight of the realm of France, who has journeyed hither to see this marvel.”

Angalafar was pleased with this answer and he brought forth from a chest a suit of mail which shone as if each link within its fashioning had been cut from gold or silver.

“Look well,” he said to Huon, “for this will be your last sight upon earth, since I intend to put a speedy end to you—”

But Huon allowed no part of the wonder he felt within him to show upon his face. Rather did he strive to look most coldly upon the mail as he said:

“So this poor, small thing be that boast of Dunother? Faith, by Our Lord, I have seen better in my own armory of Bordeaux. It is too small to even cover my shoulders!”

Now at these slighting words Angalafar was greatly wroth and in his anger he lost the keenness of his wit, for he cried out:

“Put it on thy back, outlander, and see whether or no it will fit across thy puny boy’s shoulders!”

With a high heart Huon did as Angalafar bid and never had a coat of mail fit him so well. Light it was as the silk of Cathay and yet as strong as a brand forged by the olden gods. When he stood full armed Angalafar demanded:

“Do you not find this now the finest mail you have ever known?”

“True,” replied Huon, drawing his sword. “So fine is this mail that I do wish it to be mine hereafter. I thank thee right heartily, Angalafar, for so princely a gift.”

Then did Angalafar perceive how he had been tricked and, with a bellow of rage, he struck at Huon with his ax. But the stroke fell upon the coat of mail and to the knight it was but the buffet of a feather. So it was with all the blows which the Giant showered upon him until at last, missing his footing in one blind rush, Angalafar fell to the floor of the hall. Huon sprang at the fallen monster and hacked off his head, thus putting an end to the evil life of this deathly giant.

The French knight then called upon the Damsel Sebylle to come forth from her hiding and greatly did she rejoice at the sight other captor so brought to naught and laid low. To her did Huon then give the Castle of Dunother and all that it contained, so that she, who had been a serving wench, was now a lady of much wealth and wide lands. For himself he did take only the coat of mail which he wore as he rode on into the land of the Saracens toward the dread city of Babylon.

XIII. OF MALABRON THE SEA BEAST. AND THE GIANT AGRAPUT

Now it chanced that across the road to Babylon lay a deep river whereof the waters did rush very swiftly and the dark current did seem to Huon to be a trap. Here was no bridge, nor was there any ford for travelers and the young knight, having upon his back the weight of sword, shield and mail, could see no way of winning through the flood. So he sat down upon the bank and stared into the sullen depths of the stream.

Then before his eyes the water were troubled as if some great creature strove there. And from the curls of foam arose the naked head and shoulders of a young and comely man. But when the stranger swam most easily to where Huon rested upon the bank, lo, he revealed that a scaled tail served him as lower limbs.

Huon was amazed at such a sight and his surprise was even greater when the river creature hailed him thus:

“Ho, Huon of Bordeaux, knight of France, I am Malabron of the realm of Fairy, sent hither by King Oberon to give you aid.”

Then did the knight approach nearer to the flood to point to that long and shining tail which Malabron used with as much ease as Huon used his two legs.

“Art thou man or monster?” the youth from Bordeaux demanded.

Malabron laughed. “Neither, sir knight. I wear this strange guise because I have broken the laws of our immortal world. For a thousand weary years must I bide so within the boundaries of your .world and time. And of these years I have served a full nine hundred and fifty. Now shall we consider your straits—Behold, Huon!”

With those words Malabron did clap together his hands, making a loud sound which could be heard even above the roaring of the river. And straightway there came from out of the water itself a fine boat well made and cleverly fashioned to withstand the beating of the water.

Into this Huon did lead his charger, although the beast did rebel against such travel and needs must be constrained to it with many soothing words. Once the knight and his mount were safe aboard, Malabron did grasp with his white teeth the rope which was fastened to the bow. And faster than any mortal might, he swam through the river waters, towing behind him the boat. So was Huon brought to the far side of the river.

When he had disembarked from the boat he thanked Malabron. But the fish-man shook his head against such words, saying in turn:

“Nay, thank me not, Huon of Bordeaux. For by this service to you have I won fifty years remittance from my exile. Now am I free to return to my own land. So rather be my thanks yours. When we meet again I shall be in my proper place among King Oberon’s lords. Therefore, all manner of good luck be yours for this day’s work and may you have the good fortune you deserve!”

With that Malabron sank into the stream and was gone, although Huon called upon him twice or thrice, being ill at ease alone in this strange and desolate land. For by crossing the river he had come into a desert where there seemed to be no other living thing.

But ere he had ridden a full half league he came across footprints in the sand. And so large were these prints that he knew no living man but a giant or monster had made them. Thus he was not surprised to find, upon riding around the edge of a bare rock cliff, a giant sitting in the sand and whetting a twelve-foot sword on a stone.

Now this was the Giant Agraput who was brother to that same Angalafar whom Huon had slain. And when he saw Huon he recognized the coat of mail which the knight wore. So did he take the young man to be some messenger sent by his - brother. And he called to Huon in such a voice as rang from the cliffs like a war trumpet:

“How does my brother, Angalafar? And why has he sent you hither?”

Huon made answer as best he might, saying:

“Angalafar bides quietly at Dunother (which was the truth for he lay at peace in a courtyard grave there) and I ride for Babylon.”

But of his mission he said nothing since he could not speak the truth and he held in mind Oberon’s warning against uttering that which was false.

“Good indeed is it then that Fate has brought us to this meeting,” boomed Agraput, “for I am held in high fear in those parts and, since my brother has given you his fine coat of mail to wear, I can do no less than to give you this.” And he tossed to Huon a ring of red gold which he pulled from his finger and which was so large that the knight needs must set it about his wrist.

“Show that to any who would bar your way at the gates of Babylon. For Gaudys, the Emir of that city, owes me a half year’s tribute and you can remind him of that when you are finished with the task my good brother has set you.”

Huon promised that he would do as Agraput asked and with the Giant’s ring upon his arm he went on his way.

Soon the track he followed led out of this harsh and barren wasteland into a green country where trees of ripening fruit overhung the roads and peasants tilled rich fields. Here did Huon rest the night and ease his mount from weary travel. And he marveled at all that had chanced since he had ridden forth from his keep of Bordeaux. So thinking of his home he did feel the tears rise to his eyes and he knew the pain of an aching heart. For he longed to see once more his gentle mother, the good Duchess Aclis (not knowing that now she lay in her deep tomb) and his brother Gerard who was even then ruling Bordeaux with a stern and heavy hand.

XIV. HOW HUON SPAKE FALSELY AND THE EVIL THAT CAME TO HIM THEREFOR

Wearing the armor of Angalafar and the ring which was Agraput’s, Huon came to the gates of Babylon. To the first guardsman he did show the ring, saying naught lest speech betray him as a stranger to this land, and so great was the fear of Agraput in the city that he was passed freely through the portal. But when he came to a second gate the sentry there raised a spear against him and bade him tell who he was and from. whence he came.

The French knight replied shortly that he was one Huon and that he had weighty business with the Emir Gaudys. Then he also held forth his wrist that the sentry might see the Giant’s ring. The Saracen did bow low but still held his place barring the road, saying:

“The Giant Agraput is indeed a great lord and much esteemed by our Emir. But those who serve him are many and not always of our kind. This is a high feast day for the followers of the Prophet and no unbeliever must lie within our walls at this time. So I must ask you, stranger, are you of our true faith?”

Huon, being impatient and wishful to win into the city, answered quickly, “Aye.”

Nor was it until he was within the walls of Babylon that he bethought himself that he had spoken that which was false. So was he in some unease of mind, remembering how Oberon had so sternly warned him against that sin. But he comforted himself with the belief that his fault had come through impatience and not because he had willed to err and he hoped that for such an excuse the Fairy King would not forsake him.

However, at that moment King Oberon, sitting at ease in his court, cried aloud so that his chief lord Gloriant asked if he felt some pang. And Oberon made sorrowful answer thus:

“Aye, deep into my heart has struck a spear of pain, for that youth, Huon of Bordeaux, whom I love as a brother, hath broken his pledged word. With black falsehood upon his lips has he ridden into Babylon. And there he is fated to fall into such danger as will claim his life. So shall he call upon me for aid in his extremity, but I cannot go to him. Unless Our Lord Jesu Himself hold out His Hand, Huon be sped!”

And so great was his grief that he went out from the company of his lords and abode alone, weeping, for many hours’ space.

But in Babylon Huon rode on to the Emir’s palace, no man saying him nay, for all saw Agraput’s ring and thought the young knight to be the Giant’s rightful messenger.

Now Gaudys had spread a feast for all comers, since he was minded that day to betroth his daughter Claramonde to the Dey of Hircania. Upon his right hand was the Dey seated and there was much mirth and joy among the company— until Huon did enter, his shield ready upon his shoulder, his unsheathed sword in his hand. All marveled to see an armed man come into them as if he sought some sworn enemy there. But the Emir, seeing the ring about the youth’s wrist, thought him the messenger of Agraput whom all there feared and he arose to bid the stranger courteous welcome.

Only, before he could speak the words which lay upon his tongue, Huon did tread lightly to the side of Claramonde and, raising her up from her seat, did kiss her full upon her lips even as Charlemagne had ordered him.

Then he turned quickly and, with his naked sword, he smote off the head of the Dey so that it rolled across the feast table to the very fingers of Gaudys.

“Villain! What foul mischief is this?” shouted the Emir. “Who art thou to dare such a deed?”

“I am Huon of Bordeaux, knight and peer of France, and liege man to King Charlemagne. My lord has laid upon me this task, that I must kiss upon the mouth your fair daughter, strike from his shoulders the head of the most noble lord at your table, and take a fistful of hair from your beard and five of your great teeth!”

At first the Emir thought Huon a mad man, but when the Frenchman stretched forth his hand to seize upon Gaudys’ beard, the Emir cried aloud for his guard to overpower the stranger. Now did Huon raise the horn of Oberon and blow so deep a blast that the sound rang in the ears of all the city. But no clouds gathered in answer, no lightning flashed, no Elf knights rode the steeds of storm. And Huon knew that his falsehood was held against him. So he threw the horn from him, crying:

“Small was my fault, King Oberon, born of thoughtless folly rather than of willful evil. But if now I am doomed to fall beneath the swords of these Saracens, may you long remember how you left me to my death!”

Then, with his shield before him and his sword swinging in his hand, he did fight most valiantly. But, at last, by sheer weight of numbers, was he overcome. Swiftly was he bound and taken to a deep dungeon, there left in chains to starve by the will of Gaudys.

But the Lady Claramonde was troubled in her heart and went to her couch that night uneasy in mind and body, thinking much of Huon’s fair youth and his great comeliness which was such as few maidens could be indifferent to. And, since she had secretly hated the old Dey of Hircania, who had been her father’s friend and not hers, she felt most kindly toward the man who had rid her of such a husband. So sleep came not and she turned many times upon her pillows, until she could no longer lie there. She arose and put on a long cloak of black so that in the shadows of the night no one could mark her passing.

Taking with her a small basket of meat and bread and a jar of water, she stole down the hundred dark steps into the dungeons of the Emir. There she did pacify the stupid sentry with a gold piece so that he unbarred the door of Huon’s cell that she might look upon the notable captive. Secretly she gave to the prisoner the food and drink, and he thought that surely within the whole mortal world there was nowhere else so fair or kind a maiden. ,1 .. And then was the great love between these two born. And of that love came much sorrow and much joy for both—as is the way of love between man and maid.

XV. HOW GAUDYS WAS OVERBORNE AND HUON GAINED HIS HEART’S DESIRE

While Huon lay so pent in his foul prison, those who had followed him from France and those who loved him well, namely Duke Garyn and the Knight Gerames, grew fearful of his fate. For Huon returned not to them at the time he had appointed. Instead of taking ship for France as their leader had ordered them to do, they decided to ride on toward Babylon that they might gain news of him.

When they came nigh to the Saracen city Gerames said to Duke Garyn:

“Do you and these other knights and squires remain here well hid, for no man in this land looking upon you would not know you for outlanders. But I have lived here for many years and if I put on the clothing of a desert chieftain none will learn my disguise is false. So clad I can win into the very court of the Emir and discover how it has fared there with Huon, good or ill.”

To this plan the Duke Garyn did agree, seeing the wisdom of it. And Gerames did put on him the robes of a desert chieftain and rode alone through the gate of Babylon.

He went into the court of the Emir, telling the sentries that he was an envoy sent to Babylon by the Caliph Ivoryn, who was full brother to Gaudys. This did delight the Emir exceedingly, for he had long been wishful to have tidings from his brother. And he had Gerames brought to him, showing him all manner of honor and ordering a feast to be given to celebrate his coming to the city.

Now as they sat eating and drinking Gerames began cunningly to talk of feats of arms and of the mighty warriors he had known and of their skill in battle. Until at length Gaudys said:

“Aye, mighty indeed were these men of whom you have spoken so well. But there was a dog of a Christian who, within this very room, held off half my guards before he could be pulled down.”

At these words Gerames’ heart leaped within his breast for he knew that Gaudys spoke of Huon. And he demanded to know what had become of so brave a warrior.

“He lies beneath my dunghill,” returned Gaudys. “For when neither food nor drink was given, him, he did as all mortals—left this world and his body speedily enough. And so we are well rid of him!”

Then was Gerames cast down. And he thought that all he had now to live for was revenge upon this Emir who had served Huon so cruelly, even to the boy’s death. But of his thoughts he spoke none aloud.

When the feast was done and it was late at night, the Lady Claramonde did creep forth from her chamber with meat and drink hid beneath her cloak. And, as she passed along the dark halls, Gerames sighted her. Wondering at her employ he followed her, even into the dungeon where Huon lay.

And, seeing the youth still living, a mighty cry of joy burst from Gerames’ throat, afrighting the lady and greatly astonishing Huon. But when the old knight threw aside the hood of his cloak and Huon knew that he was the faithful Gerames, the young man rejoiced.

Swiftly he did tell Gerames how the Lady Claramonde had saved him from death by starvation and had persuaded the jailer to set out the body of a prisoner, dead from the fever, as Huon’s own, so that all the court believed him dead and buried.

Each night had Claramonde urged him with many tears and lamentations to flee Babylon. But without the teeth and hair of Gaudys he would not go. And so had it been to the coming of Gerames.

Having heard the lady’s pleas and the firm refusal of Huon, Gerames asked why the young knight had not asked help from King Oberon. Red then with shame was Huon’s face and low hung his head as he made true confession of his sin of falsehood.

“Hard has been your lot since that hour and much has been your suffering,” mused Gerames. “Who knows what lies within the mind of the Elf King? Were you to freely acknowledge your fault and ask humbly for pardon—mayhap he would come to do you service once more. In the hall of the Emir now hangs that horn which was taken from you. Come, let us take it once more. And if we fail we shall fall at the sword’s point, which is fair enough ending for any belted knight!”

Thus heartened by Gerames’ words they crept forth into the hall of the Emir and Huon lifted down the silver horn. But ere he could set it to lip, there burst upon them divers members of the guard. Gerames leapt out with unsheathed sword to ward off the attack, shouting:

“Sound the horn! And if it be Our Lord’s will let King Oberon answer!”

Out rang the blast of the horn, its notes reaching to high Heaven and to the depths of Hell, so that all who heard, mortal or spirit, were shaken. Nor could Oberon hold fast against that summoning, for he who blew did so with a humble and contrite heart.

So did the hosts of Fairy descend upon Babylon and those who dared to stand against them were slain. But those who begged for mercy were spared the sword.

In the hall Huon strove shield to shield with Gaudys. Nor was the fight an easy one, for Gaudys was a mighty man of arms, renowned through all the width of the Saracen lands. And Huon trod warily, the bright sparks of fire flying from his armor under the blows of the Emir.

But in the end Huon, with one last strong blow, brought down the Emir of Babylon and from the fallen man’s jaw did he smite out the white teeth, from his chin he cut the wiry beard.

And these hairs and teeth Oberon did place within a golden box which he gave unto Gerames, ordering him to guard them with his life until they came again into the court of Charlemagne.

XVI. HOW HUON RETURNED TO FRANCE AND GERARD PLOTTED EVIL

Having gained the teeth and beard of Gaudys and otherwise fulfilled the quest Charlemagne had set him, Huon and his followers now took ship for Rome. And there, by the Holy Father himself, was the young knight wed to Claramonde. Now Huon was impatient to reach Bordeaux once more and, chancing to hear of a ship bound for France, he took passage on it for himself, his Lady, and Gerames. As the ship was a small one there was no place aboard her for the other knights and squires of his train and they decided to return to France by marching over land, the longer way.

Now when Huon had safely come again to a French port he sent a swift messenger to Bordeaux to tell Gerard of his homecoming. And out of that act came much sorrow for Huon and his fair lady.

For all these months when Huon had been swallowed up in the land of the Saracens, Gerard had deemed him dead and had had himself proclaimed Duke and overlord of Bordeaux. In this wickedness was he upheld by Gylberde, the father of his wife and as black a villain as ever trod the fields of France.

When Huon’s messenger came to the keep of Bordeaux, Gerard knew the keen bite of fear, for he believed that his brother would be greatly wroth with him when he discovered how ill matters had gone with the duchy. So Gerard sent the messenger into a private room and stationed a guard before the door thereof so that none might have word with the man. But Gerard himself hastened to Gylberde for counsel.

Gylberde was also frightened, for he had not dealt justly with certain men of Bordeaux and there would be many voices raised against him should Huon return to rule there. So he spoke in this wise to Gerard:

“All this land knows the heat of your brother’s : anger and the heaviness of his hand when he has cause to raise it against- any man. If he comes, again to Bordeaux surely he will not deal softly with you—since there will be full many to sing aloud fancied wrongs. Also, if he is again Duke of Bordeaux, you will be only a landless nothing without a place to lay your head—”

At those words the Lady Roselyn, she who was wife to Gerard and daughter to Gylberde, lifted her voice in loud argument, saying that she had not wed to share a beggar’s couch and crust, and that Gerard dared not use her so but must keep her Lady Duchess of Bordeaux. Mightily did she rage and employ all her wiles until her husband was fain to give into her two hands the moon itself if she would only cease. So he turned to Gylberde for the second time and demanded what he must do to keep Huon from Bordeaux.

“Time has not cooled the ire of King Charlemagne against your brother nor in any way has his heart been softened. And is it not true that the doom he laid upon Huon, should he rashly return without fulfilling the quest, was death? Therefore, do you go secretly to Huon, taking with you no squire or other outrider, since the fewer tongues which may speak of this the better. Discover from Huon’s own lips how matters stand with him.

“If he has truly accomplished that which the King ordered him to do—then lead him home by the lower road in the east valley and there I shall lie in wait with my men to take him and those with him captive. We will bring them here to the keep of Bordeaux, traveling by night so that no one along the way may see who it is we hold in bonds. And here shall we keep them close until such a time as we can decide what is to be done.” ‘ To this plot Gerard agreed willingly enough, so lost to all good had his envy and the power of his wife made him, and he did just as Gylberde urged. Without knight or squire he stole out of the city and rode to that abbey where Huon, his lady wife, and Gerames were resting. Nor did Gylberde linger in Bordeaux but hurried forth on another track with a goodly band of desperate men who were sworn to obey him in all things.

As Gerard came into the courtyard of the abbey Huon ran forth to greet him joyfully, embracing his brother and calling down all manner of good fortune upon the younger man, saying:

“Not the least of the blessings which Our Lord hath granted me is this meeting with you, my dear brother. Tell me, how does our mother? Why comes she not with you?”

Then did Gerard hang his head low, for, villain though he now was, he had greatly loved the Duchess Aclis and it hurt him deeply to speak of her death as he must. And when Huon heard how that noble lady had been stricken down at the tale of his misfortunes at court, he was in turn as one smitten dumb and could only gaze pitifully into the shifting eyes of Gerard.

Beneath that piteous appeal Gerard moved unhappily as might an ox threatened with a goad, and he hastened to ask concerning the success of his brother’s mission. Absent were Huon’s replies for his thoughts were still with the Duchess Aclia. But from his halting words Gerard learned that the news was as ill as his fears had painted it. Huon had performed the task set him by the King and was even now about to ride to court with the proof.

So Gerard hastened to suggest that he join Huon’s small party, so he might witness his brother’s triumph at court. Huon agreed, but with a heavy heart, for it would be a triumph emptied now of all joy.

By Gerard’s urging they rode forth on the valley road, Huon and Gerames mounted on war chargers and Claramonde riding upon a strong white mule. But ere they had gone a league beyond the abbey walls, they were attacked by Gylberde and his men. And, when Huon saw even his brother’s sword turned against him, he lost heart, threw away his weapons and allowed himself to be taken. So did Huon enter again his city of Bordeaux, not triumphantly before the faces of his people, but secretly at night, bound to the saddle of his own horse. And with him rode Gerames and Claramonde in like distress.

But Gerard was on his way to the King’s court with a black plan in his traitor heart.

XVII. HOW HUON STOOD IN GREAT PERIL AND GERAMES SUMMONED OBERON FOR THE LAST TIME

Gerard came to the court of King Charlemagne and there spake aloud before all the company, saying:

“Lord King, it was thy will long months ago to lay upon my brother, Huon, a perilous quest— namely to go into Babylon of the Saracens and there smite off the head of the chief man who sat upon the right hand of the Emir, to lay upon the mouth of the Emir’s daughter a free kiss, and to take as tribute from Gaudys himself a handful of beard and five of his teeth. These was he to bring hither to hold before your eyes in token of his deeds. But, unless he accomplish this, he was not to return to the realm of France unless he wished to part speedily with his head and his life.”

King Charlemagne nodded. “Even as you have said, it is so. But why do you recall to our minds on this day the punishment of that traitor who doubtless long since was meat for crows?”

Then did Gerard yield to the blackness in his heart and made answer in this wise:

“Not so, Lord King. At this very hour Huon lies in the keep of Bordeaux awaiting thy pleasure. • And whatsoever thou dost order—the same shall be done unto him!”

At this cruel speech several of the lords and peers did grow red and white in the face with shame—to hear brother so denounce brother to sure and sudden death. And amongst these was that Duke Naymes who had once stood good friend to Huon and was now determined to fight for him again. So that now he did speak out quickly.

“Mayhap Huon hath done as he was bade and was returning to report his deeds,” he began.

But Gerard interrupted him in great haste.

“Nay. Knowing that no living man might perform such acts as the King ordered, he but kept beyond the borders of France until he hoped that the memory of his foul deeds had grown dim in all men’s minds. Then did he venture back secretly, trusting that I would prove as false a rogue as he and give him shelter against the just wrath of the King. But instead I have put him in ward and have ridden hither to know the King’s will.”

Now in these months Charlemagne’s wrath against Huon had grown no less or lighter and, when Gerard had done, he thundered forth that Huon was to die a traitor’s death as soon as possible.

But Naymes, and those other peers who thought shame of this business, cried aloud that Huon should not be so cruelly used without a hearing.

And as they spake so strongly, with flashing eyes and flushed cheeks, the King was forced to their will and agreed to journey to Bordeaux where Huon lay in prison, there hear the unfortunate youth’s own story.

And so the court went to Bordeaux and this was to the liking of neither Gerard nor Gylberde, who feared that by some trick of fate Huon would win free of the trap they had set for him.

In Bordeaux, Huon, the Lady Claramonde, and the faithful Gerames were brought out of prison into the light of day and piteous it was to see their hard plight. Many there were among the lords of the court who said privately to one another that there seemed to be little evil in these three.

Then one Gaulter, a knight of mean degree and distantly kin to Gylberde, arose to demand that Huon suffer the full penalty of the law. And to this plea Gylberde nodded happy assent. Gerard would have spoken likewise but, with his brother’s eyes upon him, he could make no sound and his lying words were thrust back into his throat until he thought himself nigh strangled by them. So he said nothing, but of him only did Huon seem aware. And when the youth spoke it was directly to his false brother.

“Know you, when our lord king laid upon me this heavy task I did go out of France to His Holiness, the Pope, in Rome. And with his holy blessing I sailed unto the shores of that land which is thrall to the Saracen host.”

Then did he relate all those adventures and misadventures which had befallen him—even as are set down in this chronicle. And all those hearing marveled at his tale which was strange indeed to their ears.

When Huon had done he looked away from Gerard for the first time, holding up his head to face the King fully, even as an honest man would stand. And so he waited for the verdict of Charlemagne.

But Gylberde, fearing the sympathy which the tale had aroused in the court, shouted;

“If this villain speaks true—where is the beard and where are the teeth of Gaudys? Let him show them now.”

Huon turned again to Gerard and spake sorrowfully:

“Nay, I have them not. They were wrested from the good Sir Gerames by you, my brother. If all love be not wholly dead between us, I pray you now, bring forth the casket that I may not be foresworn before the lords of France.”

But Gerard stirred not, although within him he was sick and faint with terror. For that evil which he had surrendered to held him fast in this last hour when he might have redeemed his soul—held— him hard fast in his allegiance to the Ruler of Darkness whose vassal he had become.

And when Gerard did not answer that petition, Huon uttered a moan of sadness and covered his face with his hands as if he could no longer bear to look upon his brother. But Gerames, seeing Huon so stricken, acted for him. And from the young knight’s belt he plucked the horn of Oberon to put it to his lips and blow. And that bugling seemed to rift apart both the hall in which they stood and the sky above it.

XVIII. OF THE TRIUMPH OF HUON AND THE FAIR PROMISE OF OBERON

Out of the riven sky there did descend to the earth of France, even into the city of Bordeaux, Oberon, King and Liege Lord of Fairyland, together with those Fairy lords and Elf knights who did him service.

King Charlemagne and his peers stood dumbstruck at such a sight. And no man dared to move as Oberon put forth his sword and touched those chains which bound Huon, his lady, and Gerames.

Straightway those chains were as dust and the rising wind puffed them away so the three were free, no man putting out hand against them. Gerard and Gylberde were sore afraid at this sight and their limbs shook with their terror, for none might know the will of the Fairy lord or what punishment he would lay upon those who had harmed his friends.

But Oberon clapped together his naked hands and at that sharp sound there came to Huon, through the air, that gold box containing the beard and teeth of Gaudys. And this coffer Oberon bade him open that all there might see that he had faithfully served Charlemagne.

When the King looked upon that coffer and heard all that Huon had undergone, his heart was moved. And Oberon, marking this, spoke sharply:

“Brother King, even as you reign here within the boundaries of France, so do I reign among the People of the Hills in that land which few mortals have ever seen. And since I grow weary of my crown, which is full heavy now as it was not in the days of my youth, I am fain to depart hence, even into Paradise as was promised me centuries ago. The time of my passing is not yet, though the shadow of it lies upon me now. But when I am summoned, then shall I in turn call unto me this youth whom I have proved to be of loyal heart, brave and true beyond the like of most mortals, and he shall be lord over my people and rule forever in the misty valleys and cloud mountains of Elf Land. This do I proclaim before your nobles and mine, and this shall be!”

While they yet marveled at his speech, Oberon leaned far from his saddle and kissed Huon upon the brow as if they were brothers in blood. And so did he also to Claramonde and from that day forward neither did the Duke nor his lady show any mark of age or know any bodily ill. Rather were they possessed of a beauty beyond that of mankind and of eternal youth.

So having laid upon Huon the wardship of his kingdom, Oberon and his men went out of France, never more to be seen by King Charlemagne and his court. But there were sighs at their going for their like is viewed only once in mayhap a thousand years.

Seeming to stir as if from a dream, the King cam& again to himself and, looking upon the luckless Gerard, his anger awoke, for he realized that this weak and evil youth and Gylberde would have used the royal power to pull down Huon in order to serve their own ends. Thereupon Charlemagne ordered that these two false knights be dragged away and hung. And no one in all that company raised his voice in their behalf—save only Huon, since he could not forget that Gerard was his brother. But none paid him heed and the King’s orders were speedily carried out. So perished these two traitors in the web they had spun for another.

But Huon was named again Duke of Bordeaux and peer of France, and was left to rule in peace, his gentle Duchess by his side.

ADVENTURE THE FIRST

I. WHICH TELLETH HOW KING CHARLEMAGNE SUMMONED THE PEERS OF FRANCE