In the Days of the Guild Part 25

And for once Padraig had no more to say.

Oddly enough Brother Basil also thought of the Strid that night--the deep and dangerous whirlpool in the grim North Country had haunted him ever since he saw it. He and Tomaso came back, after dark, to the crypt, and spread out the torn ma.n.u.scripts by the light of two flambeaux in the wall. None of the pages were whole, and the script was in Latin, Arabic, Greek and Italian, and not all in the same handwriting. Both believed that in searching the heap for secrets of their arts they had stumbled on something dangerous.

"I believe I know where these came from," Tomaso said, when they had patched together three or four pages. "They are part of the scripts of Archiater of Byzantium, who was taken for a wizard in Goslar ten years ago. I thought that all his books were burned. There was talk enough about it."

"But what are these prescriptions?" asked the monk, puzzled.

"You would know by this time," said the Paduan grimly, "if that flame-crested imp of yours, Padraig, had been the one to experiment. By following the directions on this bit of vellum he might have blown us all into the other world. Luckily only three of these formulae are of that nature. The others are quite safe for your young disciples to play with. But these we will keep to ourselves." He laid a stained brownish piece of sheepskin apart from the others and two smaller ones beside it.

"These are directions for the manufacture of aqua regia, Spanish gold, and something which Archiater called Apples of Sodom. Of a certainty they are fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, those apples."

Brother Basil had lost color. This really was a trifle too near necromancy to be pleasant. Spanish gold was a Saracen invention, said to be made of most unholy materials, and he had heard of a wizard being carried bodily off on the wind after dealing in the others.

"We will carry on our experiments," Tomaso continued, "in the cellars of my tower, if you please. The young ones will be only too glad to be rid of us. If any one meddled here we should risk all we have done and the lives of our pupils. If we make any blunders working by ourselves--well--I sometimes think that I have lived a long time already."

The disciples were too well trained to ask any questions, but they were somewhat mystified by the proceedings which ensued. An underground chamber straitly walled in with masonry was fitted up, and the smells that clung to the garments of Brother Basil when he emerged were more like brimstone than anything else. Tomaso was never seen at all.

Meanwhile the newly discovered formulae for gla.s.s and enamel work had been turned over to the workers in the gla.s.s-house, with permission to buy whatever material was needed. Padraig and Guy went to London, and came back with precious packets of rare gums, dyes, minerals, oils and salts, not to be found or made at the Abbey.

Meanwhile the monk and the physician worked with absorbed intentness at their crucibles and stills. There was a slight explosion one evening, and a country lout of the neighborhood told of it. Next day a neighboring farmer ventured to ask Padraig what was going on in the ruined tower.

"Why," said Padraig soberly, "we are raising a brood of hobgoblins for the King. Did ye not know?"

The making of sulphuric acid, nitric acid and their compounds would have been risky business in any age, with the primitive apparatus that the two investigators had. They were furthermore made cautious by the fact that they did not know what might happen if they made the least error.

It was midnight after a long and nerve-racking day when they became satisfied that they had the secrets of at least three perilous mixtures in the hollow of their hands.

"I think the King would give seven such chests as the one he sent, if he knew what we know," said Brother Basil musingly.

"He has the value of that chest already, in the rose window and the great window, the monstrance, the chalice and the cups," Tomaso answered, his sense of money values undimmed. "They are as good in their way as Limoges itself can do."

"I wish that we had tidings from London," said the monk thoughtfully.

"If Lombardy loses in this war the Emperor will not stop there. He has said that he will obey no Pope on earth, only Saint Peter and the others in heaven. He is neither to hold nor to bind, that man."

"Henry does not want to fight--that is certain," said Tomaso. "He desires only to keep for his children what he has already--Anjou, Normandy, Aquitaine; and most of all England. It would take a greater than the Conqueror to rob the Plantagenets of this kingdom."

"What do you think will happen in Lombardy?" asked the other.

"The League of Lombard cities will fight to the death," said Tomaso quietly. "The Communes are fighting for their lives, and cornered wolves are fierce. Neither Sicily nor France is on Frederick's side, although they may be, if he wins. If he can get Henry the Lion of Saxony to fight under his banner, it may turn the scale."

"And Henry the Lion married our Henry's daughter Matilda," said Brother Basil. Tomaso nodded.

"Without Saxony," the Paduan added, "I know that not more than two thousand men will follow Barbarossa into Italy, and not more than half are mailed knights. The Lombard army is more or less light cavalry and infantry. Here in this cellar we have such weapons as no King has dreamed of--blazing leaping serpents, metal-devouring and poison-breathing spirits, pomegranates full of the seeds of destruction.

These--in the hands of the Communes----"

"Would turn Christendom into the kingdom of Satan," said Brother Basil as the physician paused. "If we were to give the secret to Henry's clerks, or even if we ourselves handled the work in London Tower, how long would it be before treachery or thievery carried it overseas? Are we to spread ruin over the world?"

"I thought you would see it as I did," said Tomaso smiling.

The ground vibrated to the tread of hoofs, and a horn sounded outside the window.

"That is Ranulph," said Tomaso. "I thought he might come to-night. He will have news."

As Ranulph came up the path, travel-dusty and weary, lights twinkled out in the Abbey and the Abbey Farm.

"The Emperor has lost," said the troubadour. "There was a battle at Legnano, and the German knights scattered the Italian cavalry at the first onset, but when they met the infantry ma.s.sed about the Carocchio they broke. The Emperor was wounded and fled. Without Henry of Saxony the battle was lost before it began. They say that there will be a treaty at Venice. The Communes have won."

"Come here, my son," said Tomaso, turning back into the tower. "We have found an armory of new and deadly weapons. You have heard of Archiater's apples? We can make them. Shall we give the Plantagenets to eat of the Tree of Knowledge?"

Ranulph's eyes darkened and narrowed. His quick mind leaped forward to the consequences of such a revelation.

"No," he answered. "Too much evil ambition lives among Normans. It might be safe with the King--and maybe with Richard, for he loves chivalry and knightly honor--but John loves nothing but his own will. Let us have peace in Christendom while we can."

"Shall we burn the parchment then?" asked Brother Basil.

"Nay--keep it in cipher. Let a few trusted men know the key."

"We will trust our lads," Brother Basil said. "Let us ask them."

Alan and Padraig, Wilfrid, Guy, and David, came up the path. Brother Basil explained the discovery. They had already heard the news of the Lombard victory from Giovanni, who had ridden with the troubadour and stopped at the Abbey Farm.

"What shall we do with these mysteries?" Tomaso asked, holding out one of the deadly little grenades. "You must remember that some one else may find out the secret without our help. It is true that the man who did would risk being burned for a wizard in some places; still, there is little that men will not dare in the search for knowledge."

"Let them find it out then," spoke Padraig in sudden heat. "We have had enough of war in our time. Let us kill this c.o.c.katrice in the egg."

"These would pay some debts,"--Alan's hard young North-country face grew stern. He was thinking of tales which Angelo had told him in his boyhood.

"G.o.d can pay debts without money," said Brother Basil gently.

"We are not ready," Guy averred. "We need time to train men and to let the land breathe. After that it may be safe to use the secret--not now."

"That cat's best in a sack," David commented shrewdly.

"Padraig is right," said Wilfrid. "We have had enough of war in our time. We will keep this monster prisoned."

They came to an agreement. Padraig was to make copies in cipher of the formulae. After ten years, or on his deathbed should he die within that time, each might give the master-words and the rules to some comrade who could be trusted. They were all to swear never to use their knowledge for gain, or ambition, or vanity, but for the good of their craft, the glory of G.o.d and the honor of the land.

"Before we destroy that which we have made," said Brother Basil, "we will show you in part what it can do."

Metals dissolved like wet salt. Wood and leather were bitten through as by gnawing rats. A fire was kindled on the old tower, and a cone-like swarm of giant wasps of fire went spluttering and boiling up into the darkness. The apples of Sodom were planted under a troublesome ledge of rock, and reduced it to rubble.

"And there goes what would seat the King of England on the throne of the Caesars," quoth Tomaso. The last wavering flare was dying into the night, and he stood with Ranulph and Padraig on the top of the tower, under the stars.

"He might have sat there before, if he had chosen," mused Ranulph.

Padraig was silent. Matteo had fallen beside the Carocchio, and his heart was sad.

Tomaso laid a hand on Ranulph's shoulder.

"An empire is a forest of slow nurture, beloved of my soul," he said gently, "and it does--not--grow--by--conflagrations."