Once more did Duke Huon rule in his city of Bordeaux, and with him sat his fair lady Duchess, in their hearts being much gladness and joy. All the divers counts and lords who were vassal to Huon came then into that city and paid him homage and pledged him faith and loyalty—saving only the Count Angelars.
Now this Angelars was kinsman to that foul traitor Amaury, whom Huon had slain in fair fight before King Charlemagne, and greatly did he hate Huon for that slaying. So now did he fortify his castle and hold it against his rightful lord, swearing that to the Duke he would never render homage while he had life in his body.
And when these rash words were reported to him HUGH’S anger did wax strong against Angelars. And he summoned into his service such knights and men-at-arms as he knew to be true men and eager for battle. With such in his train he put on that mail which he had won from the Giant Angalafar and took up the sword he had had from his father, the Duke Sevin. Then he sought out Claramonde in her bower, where she rested with all her maidens about her, and spoke to her in this wise:
“My fair lady wife, now do I ride to put to shame this foul traitor Angelars. And while I be gone from Bordeaux do you hold in your two hands the rule of this city. All men shall be servants unto you and your will within these gates shall be as mine.”
“Lord Duke,” Claramonde made answer, “sad grows my heart to see you with mail girt upon your body and a sword belted about you. For the chances of war are diverse and evil. But if it be your true will to punish this traitor then I shall say no more. May the Good Lord Jesu hold you ever free from harm and bring you safely back to me. As for Bordeaux, be assured that all shall be done here even as if you yourself sat in the hall of justice from sunrise to sunset.”
So did these two part and Huon led his men out of the city toward that keep which Angelars had fortified and held, in defiance of his rightful lord. And there the men of Bordeaux did encompass the castle and begin an assault.
But the same day that Huon did depart out of Bordeaux there came into that city another company of men. And these were pilgrims from Alamayne returning home from the Holy Land where they had visited the Tomb of Our Lord Jesu and looked upon the places where the Prince, of Peace had been both quick and dead.
The Lady Claramonde looking forth from the window of her tower chamber saw these pilgrims who were worn and suffering by reason of their long journeying. And she asked what manner of travelers they were. To her was made answer that they were pilgrims newly come from the Holy Land.
So did she then give orders that they be brought into the great hall of the castle and that to them be given meat and drink and new clothing, should they need such. And she herself did go in to serve them with her maids and men. Of this charity came great peril and suffering to Claramonde and those she loved most, as you shall see.
Now the pilgrims rejoiced at the manner of their treatment and as they went on to their own country they ever spoke aloud the praises of the Duchess Claramonde, saying that of all the highborn ladies she was the fairest and best they had ever seen. When they came to their home in Alamayne they met with the Duke Raoul who was their liege lord, this same Raoul being nephew and heir to the Emperor and well beloved by him. But he was a young man of hot passions and took little heed of the rights of lesser men.
And he did ask of the pilgrims the full tale of their wanderings which they did take great pleasure in telling him. Then did the leader of the pilgrims stand forth and say:
“Lord Duke, long and far have we journeyed and many and great are the sights we have seen in that journeying. But in our hearts do we cherish the memory of the city of Bordeaux.”
“And why do you so?” asked the Duke, amazed, for he did not deem that city of any account.
“Because, Lord Duke, when we came into that city, hungry and weary nigh unto death itself, the Lady Duchess Claramonde, she who is wife to the Duke Huon, did have us into the great hall of the castle. And with her own hands she brought unto us meat and drink and new clothing—if such we needed.
“And of all the ladies we did ever see she is the fairest—even the angels who sit now in the Halls of Heaven might well wish to be fashioned as is she. As she is fair so is she also courteous and in all ways fit to rule. She is duchess in Bordeaux, but she is meet to be a queen in a greater land. Would, Lord Duke, that she might be your wife and so our own dear lady!”
Duke Raoul, hearing this, was fired to see this lady who had so courteously used his people. Many times he thought upon the pilgrim’s words until, at length, he knew that he must go even to Bordeaux and look upon the Lady Claramonde with his own eyes. Summoning unto him his chief lords, he made known his will in this wise:
“Since I have heard such things concerning this fair Duchess of Bordeaux I cannot rest in sleep, nor does my meat have any savor in my mouth. I have no lady to share my rule and never had I knowledge before of any who is counted so much a peer among her kind. Therefore I must view this marvel for myself.”
Then he did put off his fine robes and his sword. And with stain he blackened his face and let his beard grow upon his chin. So that when he put on him the cloak of a common man he was of rough and poor seeming. In this wise he went to Bordeaux and there he did beg alms at the gate of the castle, saying that he was a pilgrim from the Holy Land.
So the steward, following the orders of his lady, brought him into the great hall where the Duchess sat at meat with all her household. And she received him courteously, giving unto him bread from her own plate. But he could not eat thereof for reason of looking upon her, and he thought that it was true that even Heaven’s angels might well wish to appear in the seeming of the Duchess Claramonde.
Then he did know a great longing and love for her which was like a fire lit within him, and he did swear privately that he would have her to wife or die. For he deemed Huon a small lordling of little account whom he could easily dispose of. And with these thoughts making evil and black his heart he departed again for his own land.
Having set his heart upon gaining the Lady Claramonde to wife, Duke Raoul straightway rode unto the court of his uncle, the Emperor of Alamayne. And the Emperor rejoiced to see his nephew, coming to embrace him and do him all honor before those assembled there, saying:
“My dear kinsman, joyful are we to give you welcome. And if we can in any way serve you, you have but to make known your wishes here.”
The Duke Raoul knelt before the Emperor in most humble seeming and paid him homage, before he spoke aloud what was in his mind and what he had been planning since he looked upon the face of the Lady Claramonde.
“Sire, many knights ride in your train and sit in your halls, owing you liege service and all fidelity. Mayhap these be the most skillful and best warriors of all Christendom. It is in my mind that if a tournament be given here to which the knights of France, aye, even the knights of England and Spain, be bidden to show their skill—yet even then shall these of your following triumph in the lists and great shall be the glory of the men of Alamayne!”
The Emperor thought upon these words of Duke Raoul and to him also it did appear a pleasant and notable plan, and straightway he did agree that this would be so. And he caused to be sent out to the four ways of the world heralds and trumpeters to proclaim the giving of such a tournament to be held at his city of Mayence within the half year.
But Raoul smiled secretly to himself and, when again among those of his own household, being full merry with the wine he had drunk that night, he gave open voice to the dark plotting he had done, so that divers of his lords heard him say:
“This Huon of Bordeaux has been widely bespoken as a man of war, full of cunning and high deeds. Such a man will not remain aloof from the Emperor’s tournament. And he is hardly more than a green youth in years, while I have spent many seasons in the field. Thus when I shall challenge him to -single combat let no man fear the ending. Huon shall die beneath my sword and his lands and lady will drop into my hands as easily as the ripe fruit falls from its parent tree in the proper season.”
Among those lords who listened to this unworthy boasting was one Godrun of Noremberg who in his boyhood had served as a page in the household of Duke Sevin of Bordeaux. And many had been the kindnesses shown him there. Also he had sported with Huon when they had both been lads scarce out of childhood and together they had learned to swing swords and hold lances, giving many a stout blow to each other during that learning. So that Godrun-now looked upon Duke Raoul with much disfavor and determined in his heart that this fell plan would be spoiled if he could have the doing of it.
He called his squire and together they slipped away from the Emperor’s court and rode with all speed into France and even into the city of Bordeaux with little rest or food and drink to sustain them.
Now Huon had encompassed the keep held in defiance by Angelars and, although those within fought bravely and with much spirit, yet were they in the end defeated and the keep taken. Then did Huon hang the traitor Angelars upon his own high tower and with him divers of his captains. But he freed those of the common sort who had but served their lord in this bad business. Having done so he returned to Bordeaux, meeting on the way those heralds who had been sent out by the Emperor to summon all the knights of Christendom to the tournament at Mayence. And hearing of this Huon and his men were much pleased and decided to go thither at the proper time to win honor and glory for the realm of France.
The Duchess Claramonde knew great joy and happiness when her lord returned thus speedily to her without hurt and she caused a feast to be made so that all might partake and so share in . her pleasure. To this feast came Godrun of Noremberg, all unknowing, with his distressful knowledge of the plot against his friend. He contrived to have speech privately with Duke Huon and his lady.
“Lord Duke, in former years when your father, the mighty Sevin, still walked this earth, I dwelt happily in these halls as one of his fosterlings. You I did know well then and ofttimes we did strive together in sport. Now it is with shame and sorrow that I come into your presence with such a story on my lips.
“For know you this—now am I liege man to that Duke Raoul who is nephew to the Emperor of Alamayne. And this Raoul is a mighty lord in battle, none of the knights of Christendom has been able to stand against him lance to lance, sword to sword, shield to shield, and come the better from the encounter. But in other ways he is not so great a man.
“Hearing tales of the beauty and courtesy of this lady, your Duchess, he put on him the sorry guise of a pilgrim and came even into this very hall. Beholding the lady, he coveted her to be his wife and is determined to make his wishes in this matter true. You he holds of little account because of your youth and because Bordeaux is not as large as the fief he rules. So he has caused his uncle, the Emperor, to proclaim a tournament to draw you to Mayence where he may challenge you to single combat and kill you, taking both your lady and your land unto himself!”
Now, upon hearing this, the heart of Huon did swell with red rage that such an insult should be laid upon his lady and upon him. And he drew out his sword so that the torchlight in the hall did fall full upon his blade as he cried: “Should this black-hearted Duke have a hundred full armed knights in his train and I stand alone but for this blade, yet will I face him in battle!”
And the Duchess Claramonde rose in her place, her eyes, too, full of the fire of war. And she said:
“Husband, right well do you speak! This Raoul is no true knight, nay, by his action he denies the very sword and spurs he wears. So hot am I against him that I would I might put on coat-mail and helm and ride at your right hand in such array when you go up against him!”
Huon laughed right joyfully at her words and said to Godrun:
“You see, friend, this is our temper and it shall be the undoing of so proud and willful a lord as this Duke Raoul. I have heard at all times good report of your Emperor who men bespeak as a just and generous lord. Now I shall ride to him and ask for his word upon the matter.”
Thus it was decided and, with Godrun and others who were of his following, Huon set forth for the city of Mayence.
But while they yet were some distance from Mayence, Huon summoned to him his principal knights and made plain to them his desire—that he ride alone to the court of the Emperor, since this quarrel with Duke Raoul was his only and not to be pursued by other men. All raised their voices and spoke against him in this matter, but he would not be gainsaid and, in the end, it went as he willed and he rode alone into the stronghold of the enemy.
Now the Emperor had decreed feasting for all comers and welcomed to his own table those knights who were minded to try their fortune at the jousting. When Huon came into the city, all clad in mail, his helm on his head, lance in hand, he rode straight into the hall of the Emperor where all the court sat in merriment and good cheer over their meat. And all there were greatly amazed to see a knight in such warlike guise ride in amongst them. So that the Emperor called thus to him with his own voice:
“Ha, sir knight, and what manner of man be you to ride so boldly and in such rude, warlike dress into this company? Know you not that I be Emperor of all this land and to me men do full courtesy?”
At the right hand of the Emperor sat the Duke Raoul. No armor was on him, no helm hid his comely face. But he was clad in a seemly robe of rich crimson with much gold thread worked into it in a cunning manner, showing a hunt with hounds and hart in full cry. Though his heart was foul yet his appearance was fair, and of all the lords there assembled at that time he was the best to look upon—saving only Huon.
But when the Duke of Bordeaux did gaze upon the face of his enemy and thought of all which had been reported to him by Godrun concerning Raoul, he did believe the Emperor’s nephew like unto a demon out of Hell. And his rage arose in his throat until it was like to choke him, so that he needs must turn aside his eyes from Raoul lest he be moved by his hate to strike him down where he sat in such ease and splendor.
So Huon came before the Emperor and made answer to him clearly.
“Lord Emperor, I am liege man to Charlemagne of France and have come hither to try my fortune in the tournament which your heralds have proclaimed throughout Christendom. But in this hour I stand here before you for another cause, also, for I would ask of you justice—since you are renowned for your fair dealing with all men.”
And the Emperor smiled upon Huon and he put forth his hand to urge silence upon all those who sat there.
“Never hath any man, gentle or common, come crying to me for justice that I did not make full answer according to the wits and heart the good God granted to me at my birthing. Speak on, stranger, what is your plaint?”
And Huon straightway told his story.
“This is how it has fared with me, Lord Emperor. Know you that I hold a fief of some small wealth, which I am lord of by right of birth and the might of my sword arm. And also, by the Grace of the Lord Jesu, I rejoice in the love of a fair lady whom I won to wife after many fell dangers and much bitter suffering.
“When I was from home on affairs of my fief, a lord of your following did come in disguise into my keep for no other purpose than to look upon my lady of whom he had heard much report. When he saw her he did purpose to take her for his own, deeming me of little account and not to be held in esteem. Yea, he even made sport of me before his men, saying that he would easily slay me in this tournament and take my wife and my fief for his own.
“So do I ride to you in the guise of war, that I may demand justice against this villain. Now do I cast down my glove and face him sword to sword and shield to shield that I may wrack upon his body the punishment he deserves!”
But black now was the Emperor’s face and hot his voice as he made answer: “Such a man is not worthy to be called in combat, as if he were truly a belted knight of honor and goodly life. Therefore, if it be true that he is man of mine, I give you full leave to slay him wherever you may chance upon him and in whatever degree he now abides!”
Upon hearing these words of the Emperor, Huon slipped from the saddle of his horse, putting aside the lance he had borne into the hall. And he drew forth from its scabbard his sword. Taking a quick step to the high table, he raised the visor of his helm so that those there might look upon his face. And then he cried out to Duke Raoul:
“Traitor, false and perjured knight! Look upon that Huon of Bordeaux whom you did plot to send to his death. Bordeaux and my Lady Claramonde are not for you!”
Then raising his sword he did run it through the body of Raoul, slaying him before he could rise out of his seat. Whereupon all those who abode in the hall gave forth cries of fear and anger. And principal among these was the Emperor, who called upon his guards to cut down this murderer.
But Huon turned then upon the Emperor, crying:
“So this be your true practice, Lord Emperor? That since it is a kinsman of yours who is the offender, justice shall not be done. If your justice turns so easily, I want none of it. This shall uphold my case against yours!”
He leaped into the saddle and held aloft his sword still all bedrabbled with the blood of Raoul. Then he went up against those of the guard who tried to stay him and he cut his way through them, fighting as one of the great heroes of old. And many men did he wound and slay before he won free out of the city of Mayence.
By the Emperor’s order all those knights who rode under the banners of Alamayne got to horse and pursued Huon across the plain. And with them rode the Emperor himself, mounted on his charger Amphage—mate to which there was none in the whole world. So great was the rage of the Emperor that he spurred out before his men and so came close to Huon.
Huon, seeing this, stayed his flight a little and waited upon the Emperor. And they came together with such force that the Emperor was thrown from the back of Amphage and his leg was broken in twain. Then did Huon look upon his enemy with pity in his heart, and he raised no sword against him. Instead he left his tired horse and, mounted upon Amphage, rode away. And the Emperor was taken up by those who followed him.
But because Huon did pity his enemy and leave him living on the field, much sorrow and bitterness were to be his portion.
Huon came into the encampment of those who had followed him from Bordeaux and he straightway set before them how ill his mission had fared. So( they arrayed themselves for the battle which was speedily brought upon them when the knights and lords of Alamayne, hot with anger, came at a full gallop. But the knights and men of Bordeaux were no green youths entering into their first assay of arms untried. And they were led by Huon and by the crafty Gerames who had grown old in warfare.
So did those of Bordeaux fashion a wall of steel which held fast against the enemies’ charge. And full many of the Emperor’s men were struck from their saddles to their death beneath the iron shod hooves of their own chargers. Huon fought not like one man but as twenty. From one end of the field to the other his sword cleared him an open path and naught was behind him but men newly dead.
Thus at last the Emperor, who had been watching from a litter the manner of this desperate affray, began to bemoan the slaughter of his men, for it was like to be that none of them might survive the field. At the same time Gerames spurred to ride stirrup to stirrup with Huon and say:
“Lord Duke, we have made much grievous slaughter among these proud men of Alamayne. The Emperor himself has been laid low by your own skill and courage. But after the way of battles, we have lost divers good knights and sturdy bow and pike men, too. This be the land of Alamayne and the Emperor can call to him fresh men. But Bordeaux lies many leagues away and how can we summon any to fill the gaps which death has holed in our battle line?”
Huon, thinking upon this, believed that Gerames spoke with his usual wisdom and he answered:
“Let us send a herald unto the Emperor and ask if he will make truce. Then shall we withdraw into our own land where the advantage will be ours. Send forth a herald of your choosing with trumpeters, and have him seek out the leader of the men of Alamayne thus—”
And so was it done. In spite of the Emperor’s great and abiding hate for Huon, he needs must agreed to the truce, thinking to himself the while that when his leg was healed and he could call up fresh liege men he would pursue the Duke of Bordeaux even to the walls of his own city and that he would rive that same city with fire and sword and reduce it to naught in the eyes of all men. But for that he must bide his time. So did he agree to a six months’ truce to hold betwixt them.
Thereafter the armies parted from each other, both licking their wounds—even as a lion and a tiger evenly matched might agree to fight no more, but retreat into their private dens to hoard their strength against another meeting.
Huon came back to Bordeaux with the greatest speed possible and he related to the Lady Claramonde how he had served Duke Raoul and what had come from his vengeance. The Lady Claramonde, greatly fearing of the future/said unto her lord:
“Husband, this Emperor ruleth all the reaches of Alamayne which, it has been said, is even greater than France. He can call to his banner a hundred knights for every man who owes you field service. Mayhap he can crack Bordeaux like a nut between his two fingers. Emperor Charlemagne is lately dead and in his stead ruleth the child* Louis. He hates you for the sake of his dead brother whom you slew by chance, and he will not come hither to aid you with as much as one arrow!”
“True,” Huon made her sober answer. “Therefore we of Bordeaux must trust in the grace and goodness of Our Lord Jesu and do the best that we can against the coming of a dark future.”
“France may not aid us but there is help beyond our borders if we will seek it, my lord. In Tunis is my brother, now the Dey and overlord, and he has a thousand times a thousand men to rally to his battle cry. Think not that he is an unbeliever, for long since did he accept Our Lord Jesu for his own and is a Christian man. In our childhood there was strong love between us twain and I do not think that I am yet wholly forgotten by him. Do you then take ship, husband, and get you overseas to Tunis. There call upon my brother and return with the army he will freely give into your service. So you can meet the Emperor with an equal force!”
But Huon frowned and made dissenting answer:
“Wife, if I slip away now from Bordeaux and sail overseas to secure this aid you speak of, I shall then be deserting those who trust in me, and they may freely name me coward and Yalse knight. Much may chance on such a voyage and I may not return therefrom, leaving my city to a black fate. Nay, here I must stay and share what may come.”
So did he answer all the pleas of Claramonde. And her fear of the future did press upon her heart as if a rock had settled therein.
All the defenses of Bordeaux were made stronger, and food and drink were brought into the city, the carts moving through all gates from sunrise to sunset. Out in the land Gerames had put many watchers and swift messengers to spy upon the coming of the men of Alamayne and all within the city worked with a will to be ready.
At last came the word that the banners of Alamayne were to be seen on the borders of the duchy and that the forces of the Emperor were laying waste—burning and slaying as they came. Then did the men of Huon’s following withdraw within the stout walls of the city. A store of arrows and crossbow bolts were brought up, swords and lances were made ready and they waited. Soon enough the forces of Alamayne came before the city and set up a camp of many tents.
That night their campfires made a blazing ring without end, encircling the walls of Bordeaux.
Then did Huon say to Gerames:
“Look you how this Emperor takes his ease before my walls, setting out his meat and drink to consume at leisure because he thinks us entrapped, to be taken and slain whene’er he wishes. Let us issue forth and show him what manner of prey he seeks!”
So did a picked force come silently out of the city by a postern gate and they rode as swift as the wind, silent as the clouds of the night, down upon the enemy camp. There they wrought such damage as the Alamayne force did think might be done by demons. Full many knights died that hour, and the Emperor was fain to cry aloud with rage and pain.
But Huon’s force withdrew into the city again, with joy and ease of heart because of the grievous blow that they had successfully dealt. And the Duke said to his men:
“Where is Sir Gerames? I do not hear his voice raised in our rejoicing.”
Then a knight, wounded almost unto death, rode forward crying:
“Alas, Lord Duke, in that last charge Sir Gerames was swept from his horse and if he be not dead, then he is surely in the hands of the enemy!”
Gerames, bleeding from many wounds and helpless, was brought before the Emperor, who was overjoyed at the capture of a lord so high in the council of the enemy. And in high good humor he called forth to the men of his host:
“Here have we one of these stout villains who oppose us. Now, to the man who brings me Huon also so humbled, will I give both this proud city of Bordeaux and the Lady Claramonde herself.”
But Gerames faced him right proudly and with , head held high, saying in return:
“Bold words, my Lord Emperor, bold words. Not yet have you or any man of yours won within the gates of Bordeaux save that he went so as a prisoner of ours. And Duke Huon shall hold those same gates fast against all comers as long as it be needful. No knight in all the land of Alamayne can take this city or humble its lord!”
And at this speech from a captive, standing chained and unarmed, the Emperor was wroth indeed, and he turned to his marshal, Sir Otho, ordering him in this wise:
“Take forth this gray-bearded fool and any we have captured with him, build high a gallows nigh unto the city wall. And when that be finished— hang them all!”
Sir Otho stirred not from his place, but rather cautioned his liege lord with these words:
“Sire, if we do your will in this matter then shall those of Bordeaux be moved to act likewise against men of ours who lie captive behind their walls. Pray you, by the grace of Our Lord Jesu, think again before you order this thing.”
But the Emperor turned upon him a face so black with wrath that he needs must obey. And sorrowfully he led forth Gerames and divers other men of Bordeaux who had been taken in the battle.
By the walls of Bordeaux, hardly a bowshot length beyond the main gate, the men of Alamayne erected a wide gallows. And those within the city came to stand upon the battlements and look down to see what was being done. Huon beat his fists upon the harsh stone and called forth:
“Shall we allow our brothers-in-arms to be so served? Let all who will helm and horse and follow me. For if we allow this to be done to them then shall never again our honor be bright in the sight of men!”
And all those who could sit horse or draw a bow made ready to issue out in rescue.
Once again Sir Otho had gone in to the Emperor and there, holding himself humbly, made again a plea for mercy.
“Sire, truly has this Duke Huon hurt your heart when he slew before your eyes the Duke Raoul whom you loved right well. But let him pay for this in Christian wise. Let him voyage to the Holy Land and there do proper penance. Do you send now a herald unto the city and—”
But no more words left his lips for the Emperor gave a roar of rage—like unto the roar of a wounded boar—and Sir Otho was forced away by his friends lest the Emperor order him hanged also. Sadly the marshal returned to the foot of the gallows. But there he set no guard and he delayed the hanging as long as he might, hoping that the Emperor might yet relent his harshness.
There came a brazen clang as down fell the drawbridge of Bordeaux and out of that city came a desperate band of fighting men. Down upon the gallows they whirled and there they cut free the prisoners, while another force spurred ahead to use sword and lance upon the men of Alamayne. Before the Emperor could order his army, they were back again into the city—only with them they had swept Sir Otho and a hundred more of the enemy.
. These Huon would have used even as the Emperor had ordered done to the men of Bordeaux— hanging them together from the battlements. But Gerames spoke for them, telling all that Sir Otho had done to make peace. So Huon pardoned the prisoners in the name of his beloved friend.
Now that very night there was born to Duke Huon and the Lady Claramonde a daughter. And about her cradle in the keep there appeared divers of the ladies of Elfland, each bringing to the child her blessing and the promise that she would wear a crown and rule as a powerful and well-beloved queen. But the chief of these ladies looked most sorrowfully upon Huon and his duchess and she spoke through falling tears:
“Lord Duke and Lady Duchess, sore are our hearts in Elfland and we grieve for you and for this fair Clarette, born your daughter. By the Law of Fairies King Oberon cannot succor you in this distress since he had proclaimed that after him you shall reign our king and queen and to that estate you must now win by your own strength and endeavor. He bids me tell you that you shall not again look upon his face until that distant hour when you twain will meet for the last time. So wait no longer to seek for aid—if you have any to seek!”
When the Elf ladies had gone Huon called to him his herald, Herbourny, and instructed him in this wise:
“Raise you the flag of truce and ride into the camp of the Alamayne men. There seek out the Emperor and say to him that much blood has been spent by both of us in this quarrel. But if he will declare an end to warfare, then shall I make submission unto him as a vassal to his rightful lord, holding Bordeaux by his permission—since the King of France has come not to my aid. And likewise I shall go to the Sepulcher of Our Lord Jesu in the Holy Land to pray for the good of all of us. But if the Emperor says nay to this, then shall we fight on until the last stone be tumbled from our walls!”
So did Herbourny bear the message given him by Huon, and the lords of Alamayne would have been content with the terms the Duke proposed. But the Emperor, mad with hate, would have none of it and drove the herald from him with threats.
Huon then summoned to him all the principal men of Bordeaux. And when they were assembled within the hall of the keep, he told them of the failure of his attempt to make terms. Then he added:
“Men of Bordeaux, we have but little meat or drink left within our walls. In each sally good knights and men go to their deaths so in time there will be none of us left to hold sword against the enemy. Louis of France will send us no aid.
“But Salybrant, brother to my lady, rules as Dey in Tunis. He is a Christian man and may aid us for the love he bears the Duchess. Thus our only hope remains that I go forth secretly from this city and seek him out to beg help. Be this your will also?”
And all assembled there, knowing how dark was the future, agreed that he must do this thing. So he set Gerames in his place as leader of the men of Bordeaux. Then having taken leave of his lady and their daughter he slipped away in the night with only a few followers.
Many and valorous were the deeds of the men of Bordeaux holding their city against the enemy. But in every charge from out its gates, and in every fight upon the walls, men fell under the bite of the sword or by the swift shaft of the arrow. And none arose from out of the dust to take their places. So that fewer and fewer were able to answer the call to arms of the battle trumpets.
And Gerames, seeing every hour his lines grow thinner, his men fall to return no more, sorrowed in his heart. But with all he kept a brisk tongue and a bright face for the Lady Claramonde. While she, donning heavy mail over her tender flesh, did walk the walls and draw a bow of her own, sending full many straightly aimed arrows into the Alamayne camp.
But at length came a dark day when the mayor of the city waited upon the Duchess to say unto her:
“Liege lady, within this city are many stout hearts and strong arms to your service. But food and drink are needed by all men. Wide now stands the granary door and naught lies within the bins there but the dust of the wheat which once filled them. We have not tasted meat this fortnight past and ill seems the future.”
Then up spake Gerames in answer:
“True, fighting men must eat and we cannot hold the walls save when we have the proper strength to do so. In the fields beyond the river there graze cattle and sheep brought hither by our enemy for his service. This night let us issue forth and sweeps them up!”
So was it decided in a council of war and Gerames, with the best of the fighters still living, came secretly out into the fields. But the Emperor’s man on watch there was no dullard and he gave the alarm so swiftly that Gerames’ men were struck while yet they were gathering the cattle together. And in the dark was fought a grim battle.
Ill indeed was the fortune of the men of Bordeaux. Some were swept into the river where, weighted down by their mail, they went to death in the waters, none hearing their cries for help. And others fell under the sword and lance or, lying wounded in the press, were trampled by the horses. Thus died the last of the strong fighting men of Bordeaux.
And among them was Gerames, who had been slave to the Saracens, hermit in the desert lands, and a good friend to Huon all his days. Bravely he died as became a belted knight, slain by honorable wounds as a warrior of fame. And with him died the hope and deliverance of the Lady Claramonde and her daughter.
Bernard, who had been squire to Gerames, won free after the fall of his master and fought his way by sheer strength of his body to the gates of the city. There he did spur to the keep where, all blood and dust from the field, he ran through the halls seeking out the duchess.
The Lady Claramonde, seeing him in such sore straits, did guess somewhat of his dire news before he gave it tongue.
But when he cried: “On the field lies even now my master, the noble Gerames—” she gave such a scream as might one faced by doom, and then she stood statue still until those about her thought her mind gone from reason of the blow. But in time she turned to them and, when she spoke, it was evenly and with a calm voice.
“With Gerames, who was our fortress and our shield, reft from us, we cannot hope to prevail against the Emperor who can call to his service full half of Europe, while we have not enough left to man the walls. Too late v/ill my lord return with the help he has gone to seek. But be sure, friends, that when again he rides in France it will be to-avenge this hour and us. Now I will go up into the gate and from the window there I shall hail this Emperor and see what terms he will grant us in his triumph. But first, Bernard, I would speak with you.”
She took the squire into the fair part of the hall where they were alone and there she did give him certain orders, namely that he was to go to the stable and there saddle with his own hands the horse Amphage which Huon had won from the Emperor in battle. Then she would send to him secretly one of her maidens with the child Clarette. And the baby he was to bear to Cluny and there give her into the safe keeping of the Abbot, who was uncle to Huon and his good friend.
“For,” said the Lady Claramonde, “the Emperor may take Bordeaux by reason of our weakness and me he may make prisoner. But this child who be heir to Huon shall be saved from his wrath.”
And Bernard swore by the Cross that he would guard the child even to his heart’s blood and bear her safely to the Abbey of Cluny. Then he made haste to the stable and had forth Amphage, the horse being fresh and eager for the road. Hardly had he made secure the saddle upon the charger’s back than down came the maid, slipping through the shadows bearing in her arms—close wrapped in a dark cloak—the little Clarette. And with the baby before him the squire made his way out of Bordeaux by a little known way and reached the fields beyond the town. Once free he put spurs to Amphage and rode at a gallop into the night toward Cluny.
When the maid reported to the Lady Claramonde that her daughter was in Bernard’s keeping and that the squire had set forth, the Duchess went up into the gate and caused torches to be set up there so that those without the gate might see her standing so. And then she ordered her trumpeter to sound parley.
This being reported to the Emperor, he came himself on horseback, and, looking up at the lady standing framed by torchlight, he thought her very young and fair and he knew pity for her. But remembering that she was wife to Huon he hardened his heart and waited in silence to hear what she had to say.
“Lord Emperor”—loud and clear, without tears or breaking, sounded the voice of the Lady Claramonde—”defenseless against your might lies this city of Bordeaux at this hour, since you have broken our strength at last and put to lance and sword our men. But you and those who follow you be Christian men and as Christians I ask that you deal with us mercifully as Our Lord Jesu has taught.”
“Lady,” replied the Emperor, “be assured that this city shall not be put to sack if you now surrender yourselves to me. And I promise to deal with you and yours after no barbaric manner.”
With that half promise she needs must be content. But in her heart she was glad that she had sent forth her daughter while there was yet time.
So was Bordeaux surrendered and the Emperor did not sack it but set over it his own governor. And those who had been men of Huon and were still living he took with him to Mayence. There were they set in prison and the Lady Claramonde was placed in a stout tower where she did not even see the face of her keeper. And her heart was nigh to breaking when she thought upon her evil plight, her only hope lying in the swift return of Huon.
Huon and those with him, having stolen away through the forces of the enemy, came at length to a port of the sea. And there the Dute made inquiries concerning a ship to take him and his companions unto Tunis. But it was the season of wild storms in the outer ocean, and few captains desired to risk their craft to the tearing winds and raging waters. But, after many days, Huon found a sailing master willing to try his fortune, and so they set sail.
Just beyond the protection of the harbor their vessel was caught up by the wind and fled helpless before a storm through seas which were mountains of foam and water. No man amongst them, no matter what his knowledge, could control their flight, and they knew not whither they sailed. Within the ship they were flung hither and thither so that all were sore bruised and Huon did strain his sword arm so that he could not raise it from his side. Thus did they exist for several days, and in all that time they sighted not the sun nor knew if it were day or night which encompassed them.
Then there appeared across the sky before them a band of sullen fire and there was a sound to be heard even above the fury of the wind, a sound like unto the crackling of flames. The master of the ship, weak and trembling so that he could hardly stand upon his two feet, came to Huon and said:
“My Lord Duke, now we poor sinners be indeed undone and utterly lost, for the storm has driven us over the edge of the world and before us now lie the iron gates of Hell—even as legend has reported it!”
Huon looked upon that band of flames and listened to that dolorous moaning which seemed to issue therefrom, and he, too, knew fear. But he stood straight and faced to it, saying:
“We be but mortal men and so full of sin. But on this sailing we come with clean hearts and the wish to aid those weaker than ourselves. So by the promises made us by Lord Jesu, I say to you now— fear not. For Hell shall not engulf us, nor swallow us this day!”
And he spoke the truth, for though the current of the waters bore them close to those iron gates which bar that foul place and they heard the wailing of the lost within, yet did they escape Hell .and were carried on. At length the flames faded from the sky and before them they saw a point of honest sunlight piercing through the gloom.
This beam struck full upon a rocky mountain rising out of the sea, a mountain as black as the stormy night which lay behind them. But on its crown was a castle of purest white so that Huon and all those within the ship took heart with looking upon it, for it must be the keep of some great lord who would give them rest and shelter.
Straight toward the mountain of rock drove the vessel, and now the master again looked wan and afraid as he cried aloud:
“Alas! We are the most unfortunate of men! This be the castle and the rock of Adamant, which is truly a trap to catch honest sailors. Know you that there is that in this rock which draws to it all of iron, even to the nails in the ship, and once it holds it never lets go again. They who come to Adamant go not forth from there again!”
From their ship they could now see about the foot of the mountain many other vessels, some old and rotted with time until they were crumbling into the water they rested upon. And into the heart of this dead fleet was drawn their own ship, pounding to bits many of the wrecks about it.
But as the day faded it appeared to Huon that lights shone out in the windows of the castle above and he wished to climb the rock and seek help, since the store of food and water they had on board was but a small one. But still was his arm useless to him, so that he himself could not attempt such a feat.
Then did one of his men, Sir Arnold, who came from mountain country and had ofttimes climbed among rocks for sport, stand out and say that he would assay the climb. And he put aside his mail and all weapons but his belt knife. They wished him well as he began to scramble across the slimy rock near the sea where the spray dashed high.
The way to the castle was not too difficult and he came at length to the main gate. There he paused and hailed those who might be within. But no one answered him save the rising wind, nor could he see any sentry on the battlements or hear anything move within.
Since the gate stood ajar he ventured inside. But there was no man or woman to be seen in all the courtyard. It was like a house of the long since dead. As he lingered there, shivering a little with cold and loneliness, he heard at last a sound, but not that of honest footsteps. And he turned to see gliding across the pavement a loathly serpent. Taller than the wall behind, it reared its fanged head and from its open jaws dripped green venom to spatter on the stones.
Sir Arnold, having naught but his belt knife to defend himself, fled for his life, dodging the serpent and winning down the rock again to the ship. There he told what he had seen, saying that death, fanged and scaled, crawled through those halls above and no mortal man might go safely there.
So did those on the ship know despair, for their food grew less with each passing day and men dropped in their weakness and could not keep their feet. But a second ship drove in among the pack of wrecks and this was manned by pirates. Huon called upon his men to arm and fight and they did take the pirate ship and put those within to the sword. For a while thereafter they had the provisions found there to stay them and they knew hope again.
But in no way could they free their vessel from the grip of Adamant and as the weeks passed one by one they sickened and died, some from starvation, some from illness bred by the rotten ships about them, and some from lack of hope. Only Huon would not allow his heart to faint for he kept ever before him the thought of Bordeaux and those who lay behind its walls trusting him. And he swore that he would do all in the power of mortal man in their behalf.
Then came the morning when he was the only living man to rise from his couch, all alone on the ship. And nowhere was there a mouthful of bread or water to assuage his hunger and thirst. He knew that death was very nigh to him. But he determined that if that be so it would be a death of his own choosing. And, though his body was weak so that he had to rest many times, he donned his mail and helm and belted on his sword.
Then he turned to the rock and called out in a loud and ringing voice “Monster or demon, I, Huon of Bordeaux, do come now and I bring your death upon the point of my steel.”
Then he began to ascend the rock, having to go slowly because of his great weakness and the pain which still made his sword arm heavy. But after a time he came out upon the top of the mountain and saw before him the gates of the castle. The sun touched to golden fire certain words graven on these gates which Huon read, this being the warning of Adamant.
“Let him who enters herein beware, for unless he be the worthiest of mortal knights with a body like unto steel, this venture shall prove his last. But if his courage fails not—then let him enter.”
And Huon, drawing his sword, entered into the castle of Adamant.
In the courtyard there was nothing living to be seen—not even a bird—and a deep silence hung over the place, which Huon thought must be like unto the silence which abides within a tomb. In him his heart grew chill and he knew the coldness of true fear.
Then out of the silence there came a sound, a strange slithering noise which was not made, he knew, by mortal man. And he saw, coming forth from the inner hall, the loathly serpent which Sir Arnold had spoken of.
Many spans high swung its head and its blazing eyes were like unto flaming lamps. In its mouth its tongue flickered back and forth like the lash of a slaver’s whip and its fangs dripped green and acid venom. Their fangs were as long as a stout man’s arm and there seemed to be no end to the scaled body of the creature.
When it saw Huon it hissed and screamed and coiled across the pavement. Huon held his shield before him and stood ready with his sword. But the monster lunged a blow with its blunt head and, catching the edge of the shield with one of its fangs, tore the iron apart as if it were but rotted wood.
Huon’s sword struck straight and true upon its. body but the scales there were as the stoutest armor and the steel blade slipped down without cutting through them.
Again the serpent drew back its head for a fatal stroke. And now Huon flung from him the riven shield and useless sword, knowing the darkness of despair. Then he chanced to sight a lance leaning against the inner gate, a lance shining and barbed and longer than any he had ever seen before. This he seized upon before the serpent struck.
Holding it fast in his two hands he braced the butt on the stones of the courtyard pavement, steadying it with all the strength in his body. And when the serpent’s head loomed above him he moved so that the lance pierced up into its mouth and through that into its brain. Thus did it die with many writhings and coilings of its loathsome body.
Faint and weak Huon stumbled on into the hall of the castle and there did he halt amazed at what he saw. For not even the court of the Emperor could boast such richness.
There were five and twenty great pillars and some of these were of a marble as purely white as the walls of Heaven, and some of a marble as dark as night, and some of jasper and some of sardonyx. And about the walls and entwined upon these pillars was a vine of soft gold, wrought with marvelous subtlety so that it seemed a living thing. And hanging from this vine were clusters of grapes, but they were formed of amethyst and emeralds and rubies, more than might be contained in the ransom of a hundred kings. Light shone from these stones, making bright all that long hall.
The flooring whereon he trod was a mosaic patterned with the deeds of heroes, but heroes he knew not. And beyond this hall were divers other chambers all rich and of a surpassing beauty, with baths of gleaming crystal, containing likewise coffers and chests full of all manner of clothing such as the greatest lords of the earth might be proud to wear.
Then did Huon put off his armor and lave his body in a cooling bath. And he donned a fine robe of soft blue and set about his loins a belt of sapphire and gold. Thus appareled, he further explored the castle and found at last a walled garden wherein grew ripe fruit. And on this did he break his fast, though still he longed for meat and bread.
That night he slept in an ivory bed, full weary from all which had happened to him. But in the morning he awoke refreshed. And having eaten again of the fruit, he wandered anew through Adamant. So did he learn that there was no road out of this wondrous castle save back down the rock to the dead ships. And he feared that he must spend his days there a prisoner for life.
Despairing, he sank down upon a throne-like seat fashioned of beaten gold which stood in a little room all to itself. And casting his eyes to the floor because of his sorrow, he chanced to see certain words set there in the paving.
“0, man of courage,” he read, “if you be also free of sin, take then the key which lies to your hand and use it here.”
And below these words he saw a keyhole of gold, while on the arm of the throne there was chained a key. Kneeling he set this into the lock and turned. There came the sound of stones moving in their beds and that portion of the pavement on which lay the writing tilted up, showing beneath it a stair. Down these steps went Huon, for he deemed that his case could be no worse than now it was.
Below he found a long vaulted hallway wherein was set an oven of stone. And two men served this oven, bringing out fair loaves of bread and setting dough in their place. They worked in silence, nor did they make an answer when Huon asked them whence they came or who they were. Angered at last he set himself in the path of one and seized tight upon the sleeve of his tunic.
Then the man turned upon him, frowning, and said:
“Rash mortal, why do you so disturb my labors?” And he tried to pull free his sleeve from Huon’s grip. But the Duke would not let him go.
“In the Name of Our Lord Jesu and those who dwell in Heaven, I beg you give me to eat of your bread, for I have been fasting for these many days—”
The servingman still frowned, but he answered quickly:
“If you be Christian man and without sin, then you may eat freely of our viands. Go you to the table yonder and break your fast as you will. But know you—our food be death to those who eat treacherously of it. This is a fairy castle and we are bound here to serve in silence for a thousand years. Nor shall we speak to you again!”
Then he twitched his sleeve from out Huen’s fingers and went back to his work. Nor would he answer any question Huon asked of him thereafter.
So Huon went to the table at the far side of the room and there he discovered all manner of meat and drink laid out upon it. And he feasted as he had not since he left Bordeaux. Thus passed many days in the Castle of Adamant. And every day Huon tried to find a way out of that place, but there was none.
Then one night there came a storm which appeared like to tear the castle from its root on the rock. And when he went forth in the morning and looked down upon the place of ships he saw that many had been pounded into bits against the rock by the waves.
But even as he watched a new vessel appeared on the edge of the sea and was borne toward Adamant by that fatal enchantment which made the mountain a trap. Huon sorrowed to see the coming of more companions in misfortune. But he climbed down the mountain to lend aid to any who might win to shore.
Those upon the ship in the bay gave thanks upon reaching land in safety. Now half of them were Saracen and half Christian men who had been taken up by the mariners from a barren rock after a storm had shattered their vessel. When they saw Huon all cried out to him for food, being sore distressed, for they had been driven before the winds for many days and what provisions they had carried were all gone.
So did Huon bring to them the bread and meat which were provided by the fairy men within the castle. But he cautioned them that only those who were Christian and of good heart could eat thereof without hurt. So did the Christians among the company take up the food and eat it and feel no ill. But the captain of the Saracens said unto Huon:
“Faint are we from hunger and nigh unto death.
Yet a man who will betray his faith for meat in his belly is a false coward. Therefore we shall not eat.”
But not all of his men were of the same mind •and some gave over their belief and swore that they were Christian for the sake of food. But when they took into their mouths the bread from the castle it was if they chewed upon a strong poison, and their hearts failed them and they died. Looking upon their bodies the Saracen captain laughed bitterly and spoke his thoughts aloud.
“The truth was not in them and so they died. The truth is in us but we shall also die, since we will not turn our coats for bread.”
But Huon saluted him as one brave man to another, being true to himself and his belief. And the Duke climbed again the mountain and gathered the fruit of the walled garden. This he brought unto the Saracens so that they praised him much for the mercy and pity he had shown unto them.
Christians and Saracens together now entered Adamant with Huon and made free with all its treasures, abiding with good content within its walls. But Huon was still sore of mind and heart and wished to win free of that place—though he could see no manner of doing so.
Now it chanced that he came out upon the wall of the castle in the early morning. And so did he see a dark shadow which flashed across the sky, as there flew from the east a mighty griffin. So huge was this monster that its body darkened the rising sun and its wings spanned the walls of Adamant.
While Huon watched, the griffin dropped on closed wings to the splintered wreckage of the ships below and there it did choose one of the bodies of those Saracens who had died of their greed. In its talons it bore away the dead man, flying steadily off with its prey.
And seeing this Huon thought him of a plan, and he did determine to watch the following morning to see if the griffin would return or if its coming was but a chance happening. So he arose with the dawn on the next day and went up on the battlements. Nor was he disappointed, for the griffin returned again and bore away one of the bodies.
Then Huon went down into the castle and brought forth his mail and his sword. Only shield he had none for the serpent had rent it apart with its fangs. And having made all ready, he told those who were in Adamant what he had chosen to do. All cried out against his plan, saying that his folly would only bring him to a horrible death, but he answered them firmly in this wise:
“There is no way out of Adamant for mortal man save this. And in Adamant I cannot bide happily nor at peace when I know that Bordeaux and all it contains, which is dearer to me than my life, lies in danger. So shall I attempt this way of escape by the aid of the griffin.”
In the middle hour of the night, while it was still dark, he put on his mail and girt on his sword. So accoutered he climbed down the mountain to the wreckage and sought out the deck of the ship where lay the dead Saracens. And there he lay down among the dead and waited for the dawn.
With the light in the east came the griffin, its wings making thunder in the air. Huon lay un- moving, faint with hope. Down swooped the griffin and its claws fastened upon the Duke. But by reason of his mail they did not pierce his body. Up was he borne so fast that the wind rushed about him and he was fain to close his eyes upon a reeling heaven and earth.
The griffin flew steadily across the desert and cliffs surrounding Adamant until it came to a great rock standing like a pillar. On the crest of this was the nest where cried five offspring of the monster, their iron beaks gaping for the prey the mother bore. And into the midst of these did the parent griffin toss Huon.
Again his mail saved him from cruel death, for sharp as were the beaks and claws of the young griffins, they could not pierce to any vital spot of his body. And though they drew blood from his limbs he was not torn to pieces as they wished.
Escaping from their clutch, Huon drew his sword and did battle with the young griffins, striking off the head of one, thrusting another through the heart, and at length slaying them all. But as he slew the last the parent monster returned and, seeing what had chanced with her fledglings, she screamed aloud her rage and struck down at Huon so that her beak cut deeply into his shoulder and he was like to be overborne and killed by the savageness of her attack.
Despairingly he thrust upward with his sword, and by good fortune cut through one of the griffin’s legs, crippling the monster. Seeing that he had so gained the advantage, he aimed a second and third blow quickly and brought the creature to her death.
Worn and weak from his wounds he rested awhile and then, knowing that if he lingered there in that desert place he would die for want of food and water, he took up the great clawed foot of the griffin and climbed down from the nest rock.
In the far distance he could see the green of trees and he thought that there he might find water to ease his parched throat and lave his smarting wounds. He could travel but slowly for reason of his pain and distress, so that he was some hours crossing the hot, rocky land. And it was with weak and wavering feet that he came to a wide white gate and looked in upon a garden of such fairness that for a space he thought that he had truly died in that battle with the griffins and that now he had come to Paradise.
Cool and refreshing were the winds which blew across that garden and sweet they were with the scent of many flowers. So that when Huon came in, his feet making no sound upon the smooth greenness of the grass, he felt eased of his hurts of mind and body. Fruit of gold and of red and of purple hung heavy and ripe from trees and vines, and a multitude of birds sang through the hours of the day.
At length Huon came to a fountain of clear and crystal water which plumed high into the air and fell again into a basin curiously carved of pearl-tinted stone. Huon, looking upon this, was minded to rejoice in it and he freed himself from his wearying mail and leather and splashed into that pure flood.
Straightway, where the water laved his wounds, they healed leaving no scars to seam his flesh. And his weariness was gone so that he was as a strong man arising after a most refreshing sleep. Thus he lay for a time with his body within the embrace of the water of that fountain until all was well with him again.
Then, coming out of the flooded basin, he saw a tree set apart from the others of the grove, its boughs bending to the ground by reason of the fruit it bore in great quantity. And this fruit was as golden as the sun and from it came a delightful odor which drew him to it. He picked one and found that he held an apple, perfect in all its shape. Slowly he ate the fruit, and throughout his body it seemed that the blood did run more swiftly and his heart grow lighter, and he said aloud:
“How I would that my dear Claramonde stood here with me now and that she held in her arms our dear daughter, that we might be free of our miseries in this garden of Paradise. For certainly this be indeed that Paradise which sinful man so willfully lost!”
And, having finished the apple, he reached forth his hand to pluck a second.
But at that moment a bright column of light appeared beside the tree and within it stood a Being who seemed bodied in flame. So bright ands^ of such fire was this figure that Huon was fain to cover his two eyes with his hands when he strove to look upon it. And the Being spoke aloud in a voice which was like the peal of silver-tongued bells.
“Huon, Duke of Bordeaux!”
Then did Huon fall upon his knees, and he dared not look upon the exceeding brightness of the Being but answered in an humble voice:
“Aye, Lord?”
“Call me not ‘lord,’ Huon, for I am but the messenger of those who are greater than I. But list well now to what I have to say unto you, for sad and drear is the news I bear. Oh, Huon, stout must you steel your heart against the hearing of it now.
“Know you that your city of Bordeaux has fallen to your enemy, and a governor he has set over your fief now does his will there—”
Hearing this, Huon did give an exceedingly bitter cry and held out his hands beseechingly to the messenger. But the bright one had no mercy upon him yet. For when he asked:
“Claramonde and the little one, how fares it with them?”
The messenger made answer: “Your daughter was borne to Cluny by the Squire Bernard and there bides safely with the Abbot, your uncle. But your lady wife lies prisoner in the dungeon tower of Mayence and piteous is her lot. Worse still shall be her fate if you return not to succor her.”
Now Huon stood upon his two feet and from his eyes flashed the fire of dire anger and his right hand crooked to the sword hilt.
“Go you forth, Huon of Bordeaux, to the edge of this garden, and there you shall find a boat floating upon a river. This will bear you hence so that you may come again to save those who have trusted in you. These only may you take with you—”
The Being stretched out his hand, and at his light touch three of the apples parted from their stems and fell to the ground, rolling to Huon’s feet.
“These be the Apples of Eternal Youth and whosoever eateth of them shall never again feel the touch of age, but shall ever be young in the pride of his best youth. Guard them well for they shall serve you in the days to come.”
So having spoken, the Being disappeared and Huon stood alone with the Apples of Youth at his feet. But now his heart was heavy with care and sorrow for those he loved and he had no wish to remain in that garden. Returning to the fountain he put on again his mail and fastened his sword belt about him and donned his helm. Then, with the apples bound within a comer of his surcoat and the griffin’s limb within his hand, he crossed the garden and came in time to a stream whereupon rested a small boat.
Very curiously fashioned of ivory and ebony was this boat, so that half of it was black and half white. And within it were cushions of the finest damask and silk from the East which even a king might have been proud to wear upon his body.
Huon pushed the boat off from the shore and , took the tiller, letting the current bear him where it would, with the faith in his heart that he would . again see Bordeaux.
All day the stream bore him swiftly along and he broke his fast with the viands and drink he found stored in boxes and flagons at his feet. But his mind was not at ease and, had he been able, he would have quickened that voyaging a hundredfold.
Now the stream began to run between high rock ; walls and in time these met far overhead to form a roof lost in the shadows. So Huon knew that he had been carried underground. But it grew no darker and he perceived that light arose out of the water itself, and, after a while, having no fear, he laid him down and slept.
In that hour he dreamed that he saw the Lady Claramonde encompassed in gray stone and black iron and that her fair face was white and wan and that she stretched forth her hands and cried out to him for aid. But he was held apart from her by some force so that he could reply not.
Struggling, he awoke to find that beneath him the boat rocked and that he was still underground, but was moving not. And for the first time since entering upon the stream he was afraid, afraid that he might-be trapped there underground with no hope of reaching light and day once more.
By the light which came from out of the water he .saw that the prow of his boat had struck into a bar of sand and gravel which thrust out into the stream. And he leaped out upon this to see what damage his vessel had suffered. In the gravel under his feet lay divers stones which glowed and blazed with fiery light and by the aid of these he perceived that the boat had taken no harm from the mishap, but was merely caught.
Wishing to have more light with him in this place of lasting gloom he scooped up from the sand these glowing gems and tossed them into the boat where they made a glittering heap like unto a sea lantern for light. Then, putting his shoulder to the boat, he pushed it off into deep water once more and jumped aboard as the current gripped it and carried it on.
For another space of time he ate and slept within the dark, but when he awoke for the second time he found himself on an open bay of the sea and saw in the distance the walls and towers and wharves of a city. Then did he raise the sail which lay within the boat and the wind bore him toward that city where many flags and banners hung from the battlements as if those within celebrated some feast day.
Huon’s boat came in to one of the wharves and the people there marveled to see so small a ship fashioned in so rich a manner. They called out to Huon, asking who he was and from whence he came. Thus did he learn in talk with these sailors that this was the city of Tauris in the land of Persia and that the Shah of the land abode now within its walls, having proclaimed a feast for all comers in honor of the Lord Jesu, the Shah having but recently become a Christian.
Then did Huon give thanks aloud that he had come to a Christian land and he decided to go before the Shah and pray aid of him. But, before he stood in the palace of the ruler of Persia, a great and joyous happening was to befall him and in this manner.
After the Squire Bernard had taken Clarette to Cluny and left the child safe there with the Abbot he bethought himself that he must now search out his lord, the Duke Huon, wherever in the world he might be, and bring him the dire tidings of what had chanced in Bordeaux. So he took ship and sailed to the eastern seas upon that quest.
First came he into the port of Jaffa where he went among the Knights of the Cross and all manner of traveling merchants and far-voyaging sail- ors, asking for news of his lord. But no man there had heard aught of Huon. From Jaffa, Bernard next went to Jerusalem, but here was no news either. So finally he made the journey to Cairo, and long and perilous that journey was. There, when he was asking through the merchants’ quarters for tidings of far-off lands, he met a Prankish trader who replied to him thus:
“Friend, but lately I have heard that the Shah of Persia has been newly converted to belief in our faith. And for the honor of this faith he has proclaimed a feast to be held in his city of Tauris for all comers. Merchants will go thither to trade their wares, and surely in such a gathering you will gain some news of your lord. I, myself, am fitting out a caravan to travel to Tauris and, if you wish, you may travel with me.”
It seemed to Bernard that this was sage and excellent council. Accordingly he joined with the Prankish merchant across the desert into the fields of Persia, coming in good time to the city of Tauris. There he did go down to the seaside, planning to ask news of the sailors new come to that port. And there was hope in his heart, for many strange ships lay at anchor there—so many that their masts were as a forest of trees.
By chance he came to the very wharf where Huon had tied up his boat, and there Bernard heard of the coming of the foreign knight who had appeared so strangely out of the sea. He went on board the boat hoping that this stranger might have some word of his master. And there he saw Huon, but since the Duke was fully armed and helmed he saw not his face nor knew that here stood the very man he sought.
But Huon, knowing him, cried out a loud and joyful greeting:
“Bernard of Bordeaux!”
And the Squire replied: “In truth here stands Bernard once of that unhappy city. But you, sir, I know not.”
Straightway Huon put up the visor of his helm so that his face was uncovered to the day and Bernard, with a shout of thankfulness, fell down upon his knees and gave glory to Our Lord for bringing him so to his journey’s end after such weary searching. Then he made known unto the Duke how ill had chanced matters since Huon had left his city.
But Huon, having already heard this tale from the Being in the garden, was not so stricken and said unto his faithful squire:
“Good youth, we have stout arms and swords— and with these, God willing, we shall put right what is wrong. Now we must find gold to take us back to France—”
But Bernard, while his lord had been speaking, noted a strong light coming from out a coffer on the deck before him. And now he asked what lay within. Huon replied that it contained certain stones he had found in the sands of the underground river and he told to Bernard the full tale of his wanderings.
The squire opened the coffer and, when he saw what lay within, he was greatly astounded and cried:
“Now here lies one of the greatest treasures that is in our world. For these be the lost jewels of the Elfmen and of them I have heard many a tale and of them I have read many a time in the ancient chronicles. It is said that these jewels do turn night into day, and in addition they have other virtues.”
Out of the pile he took an amethyst of purple as deep as the robes of state.
“Now the property of this is that he who wears it cannot be poisoned, nay, not even if his cup brims with venom, and he may also pass through fire and water without any hurt.
“While the wearer of this”—and Bernard brought forth a diamond which was like unto a star for frozen brilliance—”cannot hunger or thirst, nor does his countenance show the ravages of time, man’s eternal enemy.
“This emerald heals the wounds of him who bears it and restores the sight of those blinded, if it be laid upon their eyes. While this ruby conquers all ills of the body. With it upon you, you need not fear even the Black Plague. And also it will eat away the chains of any prisoner, if touched to the iron, and last of all it can render its wearer invisible at his will.
“Fifth and last be this carbuncle which will light for you the darkest night, and if you bear it into battle no foe man can touch you.
“These five be the lost stones of Elfland. And a mighty treasure they are. Sell these if you will, lord”—he pointed to the rest of the gems which lay within the coffer still—”but keep the mystic five, I pray you!”
“Fear not—that I shall!” Huon replied, joyful for his great good fortune.
Huon and Bernard went into the city of Tauris together and even into the inner court of the Shah who was greatly astonished to see a Prankish knight and squire so far from their native land. But he received Huon and his follower with much courtesy, urging that they join in the feasting. And, when they had stayed their hunger, he had Huon brought before him again and asked the Duke why he had come so far from the realm of France. Then Huon made full answer, telling all that had befallen him during the year just past.
The Shah was moved by his story, so that he said unto Huon:
“Lord Duke, many and grievous have been the trials of heart and body which have been laid upon you. Were I in my youth again, then would I go out into the Holy Land in your company so that we might walk together, where the feet of Our Lord Jesu have trod, and fight righteously for Him, putting to the sword all infidels and devil worshipers who now hold that land. Thus having so wrought in His Name and cleansed me of all sin, I would sail across the seas with you and ride out against this traitor emperor who has so despitefully used you and yours.”
Huon thanked the Shah for his kind words, saying in reply:
“Lord, my heart rejoiceth much in what you have said. For to free the Holy Land from the impious hands of the infidel is indeed a good and glorious task, and if I strive to do this as best I can then surely will Our Lord Jesu further my efforts to free again Bordeaux.”
He then untied the corner of his surcoat and took therefrom the Apples of Paradise which had lain amongst its folds. And these glowed so it seemed that the sun itself had been loosed there in that room. One of the fruits he laid before the Shah who took it up, amazed at its beauty and fragrance.
With a smile Huon said, “Eat of this fruit, Lord Shah, and ail that you have wished for shall be possible—”
Then did the Shah bite deep into the fruit so that the juice of it ran out upon his white beard and age-trembling hands. But, lo, as he ate, his back grew straight again, his beard and hair darkened, and he was as a man in the full prime of his youth. And he and all of his court cried aloud their astonishment at this, demanding of Huon whence came this marvelous fruit. So that Huon answered them with the tale of the Apples of Paradise and” the shining Being he had seen within the garden of that place.
Also did he give unto the Shah certain jewels he had taken from the underground river, but not those which were of Elfland, and into his hands he offered also the boat which had borne him to Tauris. And all wondered at the richness of these gifts.
But Bernard took the magic gems to a worker in gold and jewels and had them set into a sword belt which Huon wore about his body, nor did he again part from that, since he trusted in the strange properties of the stones.
Out over all his land did the Shah then send the summons for his warriors to assemble. And in not too long a time he had gathered an army such as even the Emperor of Alamayne could not boast of leading. One half of this force he placed under the command of Huon and he himself rode in the van of the other half. So they marched into the Holy Land.^
There they took the city of Angore after much hard fighting and they put to flight a vast rabble of Saracens and infidels. But from Angore they needs must take ship upon the sea to reach their next goal. And storm clouds gathered black overhead so that these ships took refuge in the lee of a mountain which arose from the sea.
Huon, looking closely upon the crown of the mountain, thought that from its peak he might well see the course of the storm and whether or no it would keep them long pent within the bay. So, despite the pleading of his men, he set out to climb to that point.
Now the top of the mountain was flat and square and naught was there save a huge tun, or cask, of iron-bound wood. And by this tun lay an iron mallet of no small size or weight. From the tun issued forth all the while the voice of a man weeping and wailing.
Huon advanced to the tun and rapped upon it with his fist, calling out to know what manner of prisoner lay within it. And a voice returned answer, saying:
“If you be mortal man then you have come in good time to save me. Know you that I am that Cain who struck down his brother in hot anger. And for that fault I have been sealed in this place to bide until the end of measured time. But if a mortal man takes up the mallet which lies beyond and strikes in the head of this foul prison, then may I issue forth and join with the demons of the underworld which it is my fond wish to do. Nor will you be able to depart again from this place unless you so serve me!”
Huon went from the tun to the edge of the mountain slope and looked down into the bay. Thus he saw that the ships, and his men within them, were being driven by the wind and storm out into the sea so that he was left alone behind. And he returned again to the tun and called out:
“Holla, Cain, you say that there be a way out of this place. Tell me of it and I shall do as you wish. The mallet is within my hand even now.” And he struck upon the rock with the mallet so that the iron rang loud.
“Free me first,” began Cain, but Huon laughed aloud as he replied:
“Nay. For I cannot trust you in any part. Speak first, or I shall serve myself as best I can.”
And Gain, fearing that Huon could do even as he said, answered quickly:
“On the sea below awaits a ship manned by a demon. When I am free and go below I have only to show to him the mallet which now you hold and he will ferry me across the sea in safety to wherever I wish.”
When he had heard these words Huon tapped lightly upon the tun and said:
“Many thanks to you, Cain. Now will I go to prove the truth of that story.”
“Free me!” shouted Cain.
“Not so. For if you have been so set in your prison by the Will of Our Lord, it is not meet that man should free you until the proper time.”
Then did Cain roar out his rage, and in his anger he made plain his own black heart for he screamed:
“Had you loosed me as I asked, then would I have rent you limb from limb, for my hate against all men is hot!”
“So do I believe,” replied Huon. And with the mallet in his hand he went down again from that mountain place.
When Huon came down from the mountain top, the path he followed led him into a narrow cove wherein was moored a boat as red as the fires of Hell, with sails as black as the nights of sin, and the master of this craft was a fearsome demon of so monstrous a face and form that Huon was fain to turn away his eyes, lest the sight breed in him real terror.
This demon, sighting the Duke, shouted forth in a loud and roaring voice, which brought stones tumbling down the cliffs above them:
“Ha, Cain, and is it you yourself? A thousand thousand years have I waited here for your coming. Now show me speedily the sign agreed upon and I shall set you across the sea that you may be able to work all manner of ill in the world of mortals!”
And Huon, rejoicing within him that he had not freed Cain, not only to his own undoing but to the sorrow of the world of men, spoke no word in return, only raised on high the mallet he carried and stepped aboard the ship.
Straightway the demon cast off the lashings which held the craft fast and took the tiller in his taloned hand. Out of nowhere there arose a wind which filled their darksome sails and bore them out to sea, carrying them on a course through the waves. All night they voyaged thus, speaking no word one to the other. And in the morning, so swift had been that sailing, Huon saw before them a fair harbor in which lay a multitude of ships at anchor. His heart leaped high as he knew by the banners upon them that these were of the fleet of the Shah from which he had been lost.
Turning to the demon, he spoke for the first time.
“Set roe ashore upon yonder spit of sand for here be gathered a mighty army of mankind and amongst them I may cause all manner of mischief and dire trouble.”
Hearing him, the demon laughed aloud and smote his hands upon his hairy thighs for the pleasure he took in such words. And he obeyed readily, steering for the spit of sand reaching out into the sea, saying, twixt roars of evil mirth:
“Verily will you serve our master well, 0 Cain. I shall carry good report of you to him in Hell. But tarry not too long at this sweet business of bringing men to death and ruin, for there is other work awaiting you.”
Huon leaped ashore, and the demon and the ship were gone in an instant, leaving him alone by the sea. So he walked along the strand until he came to the camp of the Shah. And there he was made welcome with great joy and wonder, which grew with every word of the story he had to tell.
After his coming, they did take this city of Colander which the army of the Shah had held in siege, and many and great were the deeds of valor done in that taking—chief among them being the feats of arms performed by Huon. Dread of him grew among the enemy so that whole companies took flight from the field and rode away in disorder before the passage of the Shah’s forces.
Thus did they march in triumph to Antioch, Damascus and at last reached Jerusalem, where Huon bowed himself at the Tomb of Our Lord and prayed for the success of his arms in the field and a safe return to Bordeaux and the relief of the grievous troubles there.
Now in the plains beyond Jerusalem the Saracens gathered all their armies into one, determined to fly no longer but to meet the foe in one last battle. And to the Emir who was the commander there came the Giant Dorbrye. Taller than any two men of that company was he and tusked were his jaws, as are the jaws of the wild boar that lives in the depths of the forest. His sword was the length of a man and his shield as high as a city gate. The steed he rode was homed like unto a bull and when it breathed it puffed forth flame and smoke.
This Giant claimed of the Emir the right to meet Huon in single combat and the Emir granted him that right. So when the battle began Dorbrye rode fiercely into the fray seeking the Duke, and with each sweep of his sword he slew man or horse.
So terrible was this battle that the sun was darkened by the flight of arrows overhead, and the dust—torn up by the hooves of the mounts— made worse the murk so that the day was as twilight.
In this mist Dorbrye at last found Huon and, before the Duke could move, he slew Huon’s horse with one stroke and took the French knight up with one hand, throwing him across his own saddle before him. So did Huon think that his hour of death had come at last, and he prayed aloud for help against the dire fate which lay before him. But Dorbrye’s horse, coming into a place where many dead lay thick upon the ground, stumbled and fell, and both the Giant and Huon were thrown from the saddle.
Huon won to his feet first and, before Dorbrye could rise, the Duke aimed a shrewd blow at his bare throat and so killed him. Then Huon mounted upon the Giant’s horse and rode back to the fighting. Thereafter none could touch him by reason of his great skill at arms and the belt of magic gems which he wore.
At last the Saracen army fled the field and the men of Persia were left victorious. They pitched their tents by a river and that night feasted their fill, taking much pleasure in it.
In the morning they followed the fleeing Saracens, even to the walls of Acre where the Emir took refuge—sending messengers this way and that across all the infidel lands asking for aid. Several of these messengers fell into the hands of the Persians and having heard the tidings they bore, Huon said to the Shah:
“My lord, by the Eternal Grace of Our Lord Jesu, we have done many mighty deeds, freeing much of the Holy Land from the rule of the unbeliever. But in the doing of this we have lost many men and the land of Persia lies far away, so we can hope for no aid from there. But this Emir has sent messages far and near asking for help against us and if he is fitly answered by only a portion of those who hear him, then shall we be ground to dust between the millstones of our enemies. Therefore it will be wise to hold what we have taken and not be greedy in seeking more.”
All those in the presence of the Shah raised up their voices in support of this advice and at last the Persian ruler agreed that it was right.
But that night Huon dreamed a dark and awesome dream. For as in a vision he stood on the wide plain without the walls of a mighty city. Here was created a pyre for the burning of some criminal. And, as he watched, out of the city came a procession bearing the victim to be burned. But, lo, it was not a criminal they threatened with so cruel a death but his own fair lady!
He awoke from that dream with a cry of horror and despair and ran straightway unto the Shah and told him of that vision, saying that he must return to France with all speed lest that horrid dream prove true.
The Shah wept sorrowfully at their parting, but he gave unto Huon seasoned men-at-arms and a great treasure and he wished him well under the power of God. So did Huon and Bernard take ship once more for their native land, but there was no rejoicing in their hearts—only fear.
Over the city of Bordeaux reigned the governor the Emperor had placed there, and for a full year had he held that office. Heavy were the burdens he put upon that proud city so that men ofttimes remembered their Duke Huon and his gentle lady and in their hearts they hated the Emperor with a black and ever growing hate. There were still those amongst them who had once served in the Duke’s household and who had- fought right valiantly in the defense of the city. And now these did band together and secretly plot that they would, when the hour was right, strike boldly for their freedom.
But in their midst was a traitor and he disclosed all their plot unto the governor. So, in the night, armed men surrounded the dwelling places of those who had dared to hope for better days. And all these were speedily seized and taken before the governor, to be as quickly judged and sent out of the city in chains for the long and weary march to Mayence with only the gallows and a rope to think of as their future.
Now the Abbot of Cluny—he who was fond uncle to Huon and the protector of Huon’s daughter—heard of this happening. And straightway he summoned to him those knights who owed service to the Abbey. These he bade lead out their men and ambush the Emperor’s party to free those who were being marched to their deaths.
And it all chanced as the Abbot had hoped. The Emperor’s men were routed and put to utter defeat, and their commander, a baron of the Emperor’s own household, was killed. But the men of Bordeaux were set free and came to Cluny to claim protection of the Abbot, making many plans against that day when they could enter again into their city with triumph.
When the news of this defeat came to the Emperor his wrath waxed so hot that his words strangled in his throat and he choked upon them until he could shout:
“These men of Bordeaux be very devils for stubbornness. While any of Huon’s house live so will they continue to hold against me, rising up again and again. Therefore shall I make an end to this— for Huon himself be surely dead over the sea or he would have returned long since slavering for my blood as a hound in chase.
“So let the Duchess Claramonde be taken beyond the city walls and there let her be burnt after the manner of a traitoress and let all those from Bordeaux who lie within our ward be hung at that same time!” ‘
And no man among all his court could turn him from this purpose or soften his words.
Thus beyond the city walls was built a tall pyre of seasoned wood, even as Huon had seen in his evil dream, and by this was erected a forest of gallows trees to hold those of Bordeaux who had been forced to yield them when the city fell.
On the appointed day the Lady Claramonde and her people were brought out of prison to face this cruel fate. So pitiful was the lady and those who followed her that the people of Mayence raised loud their voices and cried out against their rightful lord, the Emperor, saying that no good would ever thereafter come to that city or the land where such a foul deed was done, nor would he who so ordered it afterwards prosper. They closed their doors and windows and bode inside their houses in darkness and sorrow, praying for the souls of those about to perish.
Now it chanced that the Duke Hildebert, who was now the Emperor’s heir, rode into Mayence at that hour and he saw the men of Bordeaux, with their Duchess at their head, on foot and in chains being led to their deaths. And he asked concerning this matter. When the truth was told to him he was sore stricken with pity and horror, and, setting spurs to his horse, he rode furiously to where the Emperor was waiting and called aloud to him:
“My good lord, I pray you in the Name of the Lord Jesu, do not do this thing. For, if by your orders this sweet lady and these people of Bordeaux die so, then will your name be remembered with loathing by all men. If your quarrel lies with the Duke Huon, then pursue it with him and not with helpless women and prisoners surrendered to your mercy. For only to the merciful will true mercy be granted!”
But so blinded and held by the power of his great hatred was the Emperor that he was as flint to the pleading of Hildebert, and his answer came cold and bitter:
“My lord Duke, you forget to whom you now speak. If you do not bridle your foolish tongue it may lead you into some such an end as these traitors are now facing.”
And when Hildebert would have protested again his own friends surrounded him and bore him struggling away, lest the Emperor make good that threat.
Then were the people of Bordeaux, knight and commoner alike, put upon the gallows and around their throats were placed the hempen loops. While the Lady Claramonde was made fast to the stake and the brands heaped about her.
At that same hour King Oberon was holding high revel for his kinswoman, the peerless Morgan Le Fay, and all was joy within his halls—save that only Oberon himself sat with a bowed head and sad countenance, until at last the Lady Morgan said unto him:
“How now, fair cousin. Here is all joyful feasting and fine frolic and yet you sit alone in sorrow and silence. Why do you thus?”
Oberon made her answer in a low and melancholy voice.
“Sweet cousin, above all my kin and friends here within the borders of our own magic land do I love Huon, Duke of Bordeaux. By my sworn promise is he my heir, to rule after me in these halls until the end of mortal time. But because of this I am bound by our laws not to aid him, since he must win here by his own efforts. And now behold what happens to the one he holds dearest in all the world!”
He moved his hands across a mirror which hung on the wall of the hall. The glass misted and when it again cleared it showed to those who were with him the plain before the walls of Mayence and what chanced there. Then did the Elf knights Gloriant and Malabron arise in their places and go unto Oberon, kneeling before him in supplication. And Malabron spoke for the twain of them when he said:
“Lord King, true by the laws of this land you may not stretch forth your hand or power to now rescue this lady. But we be not bound by that. And though our power be not a tenth or a hundredth part of yours, it is more than any mortal can stand against. Let us go and succor the Duchess Claramonde!”
With the shadow of hope upon him Oberon consented and those two disappeared from before him.
So, as Claramonde stood watching with fearful eyes the burning brand that the executioner bore toward her, there appeared in the sky above Mayence a flash of unearthly fire and out of the heart of this sprang the Elf knights fully armed and ready for war.
By their power the chains fell in dust from those of Bordeaux and the men of Mayence were stricken blind so that, when they were able to see once more, Claramonde and her people stood unharmed and free, giving thanks to the Most High for their deliverance.
And even the Emperor was disturbed in his mind so that he ordered the prisoners taken back to the dungeons, but spoke no more against them.
Huon returned secretly to France and journeyed with his men to the Abbey of Cluny, letting no one know of his coming. The Abbot marveled at his safe arrival, for he had long mourned him as one dead, and now he ordered that those in the Abbey should give thanks to God for this good happening and that a feast be made for Huon and those who followed him.
Then did the Abbot also send for the baby Clarette to be brought unto her father, and greatly did Huon rejoice upon seeing his daughter and give humble thanks unto his uncle for his exceedingly good care of her. And the Duke brought in a chest of rare gems and pieces of gold which was a portion of the spoil gained in fighting the Saracens and which he now settled upon his daughter as a dowry. And about her neck he placed a fine neck- lace of rubies set cunningly in gold, and he gave rich gifts to the lady who nursed her.
Having been so pleased with looking upon his daughter once more, he turned again to the Abbot with these words:
“Dear kinsman, my heart is full and runneth over with good will toward you for the way you have served my daughter. If there is aught which I may do for you in return, speak it aloud in this hour.”
The Abbot smiled upon him, but there was a faint shadow of sadness in his voice as he made answer.
“Nay, fair son and kinsman, there is naught in the power of man to grant me which I now desire. Within the walls of Cluny is my world and it is a good one. That which I might wish for is beyond your power of attainment. For look you, I am an old man, much worn by the years and no one can bring me youth and strength again; Winter and age have twisted these old bones and wasted the flesh from my limbs. Who can turn that season into spring once more?”
Then did Huon’s eyes shine with happiness and he hurried to the chamber given to him and from his most precious possessions he brought forth the second of the Apples of Paradise. This he set before his uncle, urging him to eat thereof and speedily.
Wondering at the strange manner of his nephew, the Abbot did as he was bid. Now as he ate a strange thing came to pass. No longer did he seem an old man bent by time and frosted by age. But he sat straight and tall, once more a man in the pride of his youth, and all those within the chamber were struck dumb by this miracle. Then did Huon relate how these apples had come into his hands and all the rest of the long tale of his wanderings.
Having seen his daughter, the Duke now planned to go into Mayence where he might, with the aid of the Lord Jesu, set free those who believed and trusted in him, the chiefest being the Lady Claramonde for whom his heart hungered with a pain which never ceased.
So did he take the juice of nutshells and brown his face and hands and let loose his hair to hang untidily upon his shoulders. He put off his bright mail, leaving on him only the belt of wondrous gems. And this he did conceal under the worn clothes of a pilgrim and a shabby cloak of the hue of beaten ashes, so that he seemed one who might beg his way from door to door.
And Bernard did likewise so that no man would know him. In this guise they went into Mayence, arriving there at Eastertide. The city was full of pilgrims who had come thither to visit a shrine, and from these pilgrims Huon learned two pieces of news which were worth much to him.
The first was that when the Eastertide was over the Emperor had sworn a most solemn oath before all his lords that he would do to death all those from Bordeaux and with them the Lady Claramonde. And this made Huon’s heart cold within him. Bernard urged that he go again to Cluny and bring to Mayence those who were Huon’s men that they might make a desperate sortie to free their lady from this dire peril.
But Huon said him nay for he thought upon the second thing he had heard and there seemed to lie within that the germ of hope.
“Long have we been at war,” he said unto Bernard, “and many men have we slain. But these were unbelievers and not of our race and kin. If we go up against the Emperor now with bared swords and the harness of battle girt upon us, more innocent blood will flow, all to no man’s gain. Still your hot blood and list now to me. It is the custom of this Emperor to go to mass early upon the Easter mom and when the mass is said and done he will grant to the first asking it of him any boon that man desires, swearing to that on the high altar itself.
“Now it is in my mind to go into the church in the early hours of this night and seek out a place close to where the Emperor shall be. And if God will it so, that first boon shall be mine. The Emperor dare not gainsay it afterward, lest he be forsworn before the eyes of all Christendom!”
So Huon did as he had planned. He put on him again the robe of a belted knight, but he did not order his hair or wash the stain from his flesh. And over this robe he pulled the beggar’s cloak. Then he went into the cathedral and took a place not far from where the Emperor would stand. So did he bide the remainder of the night, praying for success in his venture.
In the very early morning the Emperor and his court came to hear mass and few noted the beggar who stood in the shadow, but when the mass began Huon took from beneath his cloak a rosary. And this rosary was made of fine gold and the beads of it were carved gems, the cross wrought ivory. And the Emperor, loving such treasures, saw enough of it to wish to see more. So when the mass was done he moved not from his place but beckoned Huon to approach him.
“Whence had you that treasure, pilgrim?” he asked.
“From far lands, Lord Emperor, even from the hand of the Holy Father in Rome.” Huon held closer the rosary and the Emperor feasted his eyes upon it and coveted it greatly.
Then did the Duke stake his all upon one chance and he said:
“Lord Emperor, the men of Mayence have told me that on this Easter morn you do grant to the first asker of it the boon of whatever he wishes. Be this the truth?”
The Emperor, surprised, replied, “Pilgrim, it is the truth.”
“Then do I claim that boon, Lord Emperor!” And Huon’s voice was no longer that of a humble pilgrim but rang with all the pride of his blood and youth.
“It is thine, be what it may,” returned the Emperor slowly, for he sensed that more lay behind this than was clear to ear or eye.
“Free the Lady Claramonde and those of Bordeaux who lie within your power and with me swear friendship and eternal peace!”
The Emperor started back and his face was as bleak as winter as he demanded:
“Rash man, who are you to ask such a thing of me?”
Then did Huon drop the beggar’s cloak and shake back his hair. Though the dark stain was still upon him he was so comely that all with the Emperor marveled at him and believed him surely a prince of the blood royal. And he said, in his clear and ringing voice:
“I be Huon, Duke of Bordeaux!”
So astounded was the Emperor that he could speak not a word in that instant and, when again his voice came to him, he remembered the oath he had sworn and that he must give this upstart Duke the boon he asked of him and said:
“Much blood has been shed by the twain of us, Lord Emperor. But know you—I have spent this year in misery and despair. And in the Holy Land I fought to free the Tomb of Our Lord from the defilement of the infidel and there did I pray for the forgiveness of my sins. Therefore I beseech you most humbly—let there now be peace between us and let us swear friendship before this holy altar on the Day of the Resurrection of our dead Lord and Master.”
Then did the stone which had walled up the heart of the Emperor crack and his frown was not so black. So Huon, taking heart, continued:
“Liege man was I from birth to the King of France. But in the hour of my greatest need he came not to my succor, nor did he send even one man-at-arms to my service. Therefore do I now declare that my fealty to him is at an end and that I owe him allegiance no longer. But Bordeaux is no large fief, able to stand alone. So do I now make petition unto you, Sire, to take it as a fief of your crown and let me serve you for it!”
Now was the heart of the Emperor truly moved and he put his hands over Huon’s and took him as his liege man, raising him up to his feet and bestowing upon him the kiss of peace. So did all there rejoice, knowing that strife and unhappiness had come to an end at that moment.
The Emperor decreed a feast and to it came all those of Bordeaux who had so long lain prisoners in his dungeons. Not the least of these was the Duchess of Claramonde. And when Huon received her again into his arms he wept with joy and gave thanks aloud for this favor from Heaven.
From the inner pocket of his cloak he then took the third and last of the Apples of Paradise and this he laid in a dish of fair silver before the Emperor. The apple glowed with golden light and from it arose such a sweet savor it was as if musk and spices had been burned in the hall. Then the Duke of Bordeaux related to the company the story of the fruit and when he had done the Emperor did eat of it. His hair of gray darkened again and his face became plump and ruddy, so that once more he was in his comely youth. All his lords and knights cried aloud in wonderment at the sight and the Emperor had such joy as he had never known before. So as Huon and his people departed to their own city, they went with the love and good will of all the nation of Alamayne.
Once more in Bordeaux, the city and those released from prison rejoiced at. their freedom. And Huon, his lady, and their daughter dwelt in great peace and happiness. But not for long was this to be.
For at nighttime on a certain day of the dying year a knight with a fair train of followers rode into Bordeaux. No man had marked the manner of their coming, they seemed to have sprung from the earth itself. And they stayed not until they came into the hall of the castle.
Having heard of this knight, Huon came forth to greet him courteously, and, as the knight raised the visor of his helmet, he looked upon and knew that it was Malabron of the Elf realm whom he had known beforetimes.
But the face of Malabron was sad and tired and Huon mistrusted what message he might bring. He led him to the upper table and offered him meat and drink. But Malabron refused; saying:
“Lord Duke, my liege lord—the King Oberon— has sent me hither with this message. It is close now upon that time when he must go out of Elfland into Paradise as was foretold at his birth. Therefore he commands you and your lady to come unto him speedily that he may give into your hands the rule of his kingdom before he departs therefrom—”
Huon bowed his head and answered:
“Sir knight, I accept the command laid upon me by your dread lord and master. Let me but know the way that I must follow to come unto his land and that I shall travel.”
And Malabron replied:
“Get you and your lady down to the sea on the second morn from this, and there you shall find a ship awaiting you. It will bear you to the boundaries of our kingdom. But delay not, for our master is weary and impatient to depart.”
Having so delivered his message Malabron and those with him vanished out of the hall as if they had never been. Then did Huon summon unto him the Abbot of Cluny and Bernard. And he told them of the message from Oberon which he dare not disobey. And he ended in this wise:
“Since my kingdom will not be of this mortal earth I shall no longer walk among men nor sit here in the castle of Bordeaux. But my daughter Clarette is heir of my house and of my duchy and to your care do I entrust her. Keep her safe and guard well her inheritance until she comes to womanhood. See that the lord she weds is in all ways worthy of her so that she will be ever happy and blest!”
The Abbot of Cluny and Bernard were full sad at hearing these words and they longed for Huon to remain with them. But they knew that by the will of Oberon he had no choice.
Many tears did the Lady Claramonde shed as she kissed her daughter and bade her farewell. Also she said unto her lord:
“Elfland is truly not of this earth but the longing of a mother’s heart may well bridge the gulf which lies between. I do not think that I now say good-bye to this, my daughter, for all time.”
Then did she put into the hands of the Abbot her chest of jewels and order him to hold these until the maiden be of years to delight in their wearing. And she summoned all her women and bade them have special care of her daughter.
Thus did Huon and Claramonde make ready to depart out of Bordeaux for the last time.
In the dawn of the next day Huon and his lady bade farewell to Bordeaux and all those within its gates whom they loved with all their hearts, and Claramonde said unto her husband:
“My dear lord, save that this was your home where you were born and brought to man’s estate, I have little love for this city, for here have our sufferings been greater than our joys. But it is in my mind that Clarette shall be happier in this place than we have been, so do I go hence with a lighter heart.”
And she laid her hand upon the hand of Huon right joyfully and alone they went down unto the shore of the sea. There, even as Malabron had foretold, was a ship fashioned of all the fragrant woods of the East. And the nails which held the wood were of gold and silver, and the sails of fine silk, green in color after the uses of Elfland.
No captain trod the deck nor was there any crew on board to bid them welcome. But when they were safely upon her the sails arose without hands to bend them and the ship sped out into the ocean, as they watched the walls and towers of Bordeaux grow less and less behind them.
So for three days they were borne across the waves of the western ocean without danger or mishap. All manner of dainty food and drink was to be found and silk-hung couches awaited their slumbers. For the first day, the Lady Claramonde and Huon thought often, and with some sadness,^ of those left behind and spoke of them together. But as the time sped as easily as the waves of the sea they thought more and more of what would be their life in the days to come and they wondered as to what would be their fate in the strange Elfland which lay beyond the borders of the world known to mortal men.
On the fourth day they saw before them land, lying as a dark cloud upon the water, and almost at sunset the ship came into a small harbor where its anchor fell so that they knew that the voyage had come to an end. But as the night was almost upon them, the Lady Claramonde did not wish to leave the safety of the ship for the unknown shore where there seemed to be no manner of habitation.
Even as she hesitated there sounded clear on the evening air the tolling of a bell, such as might grace some church or abbey. And Huon, .smiling, said:
“Dear heart, list to that and have no more fear within you. For that be one of the signals of Christendom and if we are guided by it we shall reach good shelter.”
So heartened, she followed him from the ship and they went inland from the sea until on the far side of a hill they came upon a fair abbey set in wide green fields as a peerless gem is set in gold. As they came to the gate the bell left off its calling, but a multitude of doves wheeled across the sky and vanished beyond the wall.
When Huon rapped upon the wicket it was flung wide, and there stood a monk clad all in robes of purest white, who said to them:
“Enter, my children. Blessed be Our Lord for bringing you hither to shelter within our walls and give us opportunity to serve God’s creatures, for few come this way and we have but scant chance to practice Christian charity.”
Huon and Claramonde were brought into the guest house of the abbey and there received with great courtesy, such as might be granted a king and-queen. Thus, because their hearts were thankful for all the favors the Lord had shown them, they arose at midnight to attend mass.
But, lo, when the service was but half completed the monks left their places and filed from the chapel. Now did Huon seize upon the last one in the line, holding him by the full sleeve of his habit, and he cried:
“Sir monk, why mock you thus Our Lord, saying but half the mass?”
The monk tried in vain to pull free, making no answer. But Huon held tight and with his other hand he made the sign of the cross saying:
“By this blessed sign do I command you to answer me—what manner of monk be you and why is your mass broken?”
When Huon made the sign the monk shivered through all his body as if he were suddenly lapped by a chill wind. But he raised up his head and with his two hands he folded back his cowl so that they could look directly upon his face.
And, behold, it was dark and sad and not like the visage of mortal man, for there dwelt on his brow such sorrow as no one born of this world could bear and live. Seeing^ this Huon dropped his hold upon the other’s sleeve and he asked for the third time:
“Who are you—man or demon? Or be you one of the dwellers within the boundaries of Elfland?”
And now the monk made answer saying: “Neither man, nor demon, nor of the Fairy are we. Not of Elfland, or Hell, or of Earth. We are those who once stood in the ranks of Heaven. And when proud Lucifer made rebellion against Our Lord we did not take up the sword to him, but neither did we join those who strove with the hosts of angels. Therefore we were sent out of Heaven to this land which is on the border between the mortal world and that which lies beyond the world of men, but which is neither above nor below it. And here we must bide until the Day of Judgment. If then we can stand forth cleanly, without sin, but with pride to praise Our Lord with joyful hearts, then we may enter in again to our lost home. But the weary waiting is like a brand laid upon us and we have naught but everlasting regret to company us through endless time!”
Once more did Huon make the sign between them. And when he spoke, his voice was softened by pity.
“If the prayers of mortals may aid you, then know that we twain shall evermore remember you in ours, Friend, let there be peace between us.”
And a single tear dropped from the eye of the monk as he nodded twice his head.
“Your words shall be for us as rain is for the sun-parched land. Fain would we keep you with us, but this half land is not for such as you. Behind you lies the mortal world and before you Elfland. Whither would you go?”
Huon took Claramonde by the hand as he made answer:
“This be my wife, the Lady Claramonde, and I am Huon, once Duke of Bordeaux in the realm of France. But now we are under the command of the King Oberon to journey into Elfland where he is minded to render unto us the rule of that country.”
When he had heard this the monk bowed low.
“Fair lord and lady, greatly are we honored by your coming among us. At the breaking of the dawn I myself shall lead you to that point from which you may pass into your own domain.”
So when the rose dawn light was in the sky the monk led them forth from the White Abbey and between two green hills. And there before them lay a pleasant and smiling land wherefrom arose the tall towers of castles and the glittering walls of stout cities. Fairer than any they had ever seen was that land. But the monk would not look upon it. Rather did he cover his face with his two hands as he said:
“Go forth into your own place and prosper there. Before you lies now the land you seek.”
And as Huon and Claramonde went down into that green and golden land there sounded in the air the trumpets of a mighty host as would hail the coming of great and worthy souls.
Thus were these two welcomed into their land and they came to the castle where Oberon was. Now when he saw them enter his hall he arose in great joy and came forward to them. And each he embraced and kissed in greeting, saying:
“Dear friends, now do I rest content, for you have fulfilled the promise made long ago and have come hither to take from me the heavy burden of kingship, so that I may go hence and rest in Paradise. Now shall I summon unto this court all those who owe service and loyalty to me so that they may swear the same unto you.”
And he took Huon and Claramonde to the top of the highest tower in that keep and from a bow of ebony and gold he loosed four arrows, north, east, south and west. As these flew through the air they gave forth a marvelous trilling which was the summons of the High King of Elfland.
Then in answer to that there gathered from the four corners of that land a diverse and wondrous company. From the mountains came dwarfs and kobolds, goblins and air sprites. From out of the streams sprang merpeople and nixies and the green kelpies. From the fire darted forth the glowing salamanders and dragons, and out of the green earth came the elves and will-o’-wisps, nymphs and fauns.
To all these did Oberon speak of his going, and they sorrowed, for long had he ruled them and just and wise in all ways had been that rule. Then he brought forward Huon and Claramonde, and all those gathered there did swear to them fealty and all loyalty.
But when this was done there came another into that hall, behind him a train of armed warriors. And this was that Arthur who had once reigned in Britain and for many years had dwelt thereafter in Avalon between the worlds. And he reproached Oberon with these words:
“How this. King Oberon? If you choose to go out of your kingdom, that is your right, which no man will gainsay you. But why have you summoned this mortal, who is but a green youth, to rule in your place? Elfland needs a strong hand over it and that hand be mine!”
And those who had accompanied him echoed that claim. But Oberon only shook his head and replied:
“It is true that the laws made by men do not run in this land and our ways are not their ways. But still are we subject to certain decisions which may not be altered. Upon my first meeting with this Huon it was made plain to me that it was he who was ordained to follow me upon this throne. So are we all bound—”
But the countenance of Arthur was red with wrath and he broke in upon the words of Oberon.
“I, who was King in Britain, shall not be second in this other world. Let this youth beware of me if he dares to lay any commands upon me or mine!”
On hearing this Oberon, too, lost his serenity and he replied hotly:
“Not yet has my power departed from me. So I say unto you, Arthur, be not so rash in provoking my wrath. For it is in my mind to lay a doom upon you. Persist in this rebellion and you shall return to the mortal world a ravening creature. Man by day and wolf by night. And all shall hate and fear you until your miserable death.”
But Huon dared then to put out his hand and touch the clenched fist of Oberon. And he said:
“Lord Kings, both of you be mighty men and powerful lords. Raise not your anger against one another over this matter. All men knoweth the worth of Arthur of Britain. Who be I to take what is his?”
Oberon smiled then upon Huon, and he thought for a moment before turning to Arthur with these words:
“This other world be very great. No one, even I, knows its true boundaries. And beyond it lies that evil which is always pressing against the lands of light. It is the duty of him who rules here to be ever on his guard against the blackness—to be at eternal war with the evil from beyond. Therefore I give unto you, Arthur, the marches of the East, to hold with all your strength and spirit. And to you, Huon, I give the wardenship of the West, and you shall both king it in this world with no dispute between you.”
Then did Huon and Arthur clasp hands in good friendship and swear upon their honor that it should be as Oberon had decided. ‘
So did Oberon put off his crown and sword and all the trappings of his kingship, and he blessed his people there assembled to do him honor. Then he kissed first Claramonde with the kiss of peace, and then Huon and Arthur. Alone did he walk down that hall, all making a clear path before him and when he came nigh unto that great window which formed one end of the room, there shone in through it a bar of light, which was gold and silver, and all the colors of Heaven and earth intermingled. And from this bar of light, which seemed to those watching like unto a gate, there came the sound of wondrous singing.
Oberon looked upon those of his court for the last time. And he smiled full sweetly. Then he stepped through this gate of Paradise and was gone from them.
Since the world of Elfland no longer borders so close upon the world of mortals, having slipped somewhat awry in time and space, no man truly knows what now chances therein. But rumor says that Huon holds well the marches of the West against those evil things which breed in the dark to trouble the souls of men and that this valiant war never ceases nor shall until the Day of Judgment. With the face of fair youth and the wisdom of age he and his lady reign in Elfland to the greater good of all mankind.
And this be the story of Huon, once Duke of Bordeaux, the end of it being unknown to this very hour.