King Eric and the Outlaws Volume I Part 8

"Let us reserve these matters for your private chamber, n.o.ble prince,"

whispered Bruncke, looking cautiously around. "Woods have ears, and plains have eyes, they say. It were, perhaps, good policy that I should henceforth be apparently somewhat out of favour with your highness."

"Right, Bruncke; contradict me tomorrow at table, in the king's hearing, and I will reply in a manner which you must only _feign_ to take amiss."

"Every ungracious word spoken to me by your highness in public, I shall take to be a proof of your secret favour. All that I can promise you,"

he added in a whisper, raising his hand so as to screen his face on the other side, "is the delay of both marriages as long as possible; as to what concerns me personally, I depend upon your princely word."

"I give you my hand upon it, sage Bruncke" answered the prince, extending to him his hand. "Now let us be off; the cardinal hath reached the lake already."

They spurred their horses, and overtook the rest of their party by the sh.o.r.e of the lake, where a floating bridge had been contrived for the convenience of this unusual throng of pa.s.sengers. While they halted here, Sir Palle returned at full gallop, and told the prince, almost panting for breath, that he had been murderously attacked by Drost Aage and both his huntsmen at once.

"Indeed, I am glad of it," answered the prince, in a tone of satisfaction. "The Drost shall dearly rue such unchivalrous conduct.

You can of course swear to what you say, Palle! else no one will credit it."

"Swear to it!" repeated Palle, with glowing cheeks, and endeavouring to hide his confusion; "those who will not believe me, by my troth may let it alone; unG.o.dly oaths I have forsworn."

"Then the devil take your chatter," muttered the prince, in displeasure, and turned from him.

CHAP. VI.

On his return to Sjoborg Castle, King Eric had shut himself up in his private chamber, engrossed in serious reflections on the imminent peril he had just escaped; it seemed to him as if St. Cecilia's eve was destined to bring with it misfortune and danger to him and to his race.

This was the second time he had encountered traitors and robbers in the neighbourhood of Sjoborg. The conviction, however, that he possessed the love and devotion of his subjects, soon dissipated the young king's gloomy mood. He had summoned the Swedish Marsk, Thorkild Knudson, to a private audience, and now conversed calmly and frankly with this n.o.ble knight on the happy alliance between Denmark and Sweden, which at the present time was the chief subject of the king's thoughts, and in which his heart so ardently shared.

Thorkild Knudson was a handsome man, of a thoughtful and dignified aspect, rather more than forty years of age; his dark hair seemed to have grown untimely grey. His powerful influence as regent had gained him a high reputation, as well in his own country as in foreign courts.

An honest aspiration after power and rank was manifest in his fiery glance, and the n.o.ble commanding expression of his countenance bespoke a dauntless confidence in his own powers, and a species of proud contempt for all the petty arts by which less highly gifted statesmen often seek to supply the want of sound political wisdom. As he sat opposite the young king, attired in his blue knight's dress, with the large chain of the order around his neck, and conversed with him, with freedom and sympathy, he might have been taken for a fatherly friend or relative of King Eric, had he not, by strict observance of the respect due to Eric's exalted station, but without a tinge of flattery, known how to receive the confidence reposed in him by royalty with an appearance of homage which detracted not from his own dignity as the amba.s.sador of a foreign monarch.

Although Thorkild Knudson, as Swedish regent, was authorized on the part of King Birger and the state council to accede to the king's desire of having the celebration of his marriage fixed for the ensuing spring, yet it was only on the condition that the pope's dispensation should be obtained before that time. But because of the vehemence with which the king always rejected the idea of every obstacle, Thorkild Knudson had hitherto propounded this condition in as mild terms as possible. He now touched upon it again, and took the opportunity of bringing the case of the captive archbishop to Eric's remembrance.

The colour mounted to the young king's cheek; he became suddenly silent, and a secret struggle seemed pa.s.sing within his breast. He looked around him once or twice, as if he missed some one; at last, however, his eye rested with evident pleasure and satisfaction on Thorkild's intelligent and n.o.ble countenance. "I esteem my future brother-in-law fortunate," he said, "in possessing a man like you for his friend and counsellor. You are now to him what my aged counsellor Jon and my well-beloved Drost Hessel have been to me from my childhood upwards. The misunderstanding with the papal court has long deprived me of my best and most experienced counsellors. My faithful Drost Aage is not older and more experienced than myself. I feel confidence in you, Sir Thorkild. Were I your liege and sovereign, what would you counsel me in this weighty matter?"

"To see the prisoner, and hear his defence--_dispa.s.sionately_, n.o.ble King Eric," answered the Swedish statesman. "As far as I know, he hath not only _done_ wrong, but _suffered_ wrong; for a long and severe imprisonment is a suffering and punishment, which can only be called just, when it is inflicted according to a lawfully p.r.o.nounced sentence."

"Was it then unjust in me to imprison a state criminal, who was an accomplice in the murder of my father--an accursed regicide?" said Eric, with vehemence, and rising from his seat. "Should I have given him time to escape, or stir up the people against me, because he was not condemned by the pope and the bishops? Can I acknowledge ecclesiastical law when it would acquit a rebel and regicide?"

"It was perhaps necessary for your grace to hinder his flight and treasonable designs," answered Thorkild Knudson, who had risen from his seat at the same time with the king, "were it not possible previously to obtain papal authority for the step; but, by your grace's leave, as your counsellor, I would have freely and openly p.r.o.nounced all unnecessary severity to be as dangerous as unjust."

"With my knowledge he hath suffered no injustice," answered the king.

"The manner of his seizure I highly disapproved; and I have declared what took place then in my minority to have been contrary to my wish.

My brave Drost Torstenson I have dismissed. In him I have lost a faithful, but too zealous and rash a friend. My own brother I severely reprimanded. For the sake of a state criminal, I have exposed myself to unpleasant differences in my own family, which wound me deeply, and may perhaps prove dangerous to state and kingdom. What more can reasonably be asked of me?"

"n.o.ble sovereign," resumed Thorkild Knudson, with earnestness; "you vouchsafe to show me a confidence which I highly prize. At the present moment I am, thanks to the Lord, able to reciprocate it with honest frankness. I trust a double relations.h.i.+p will unite you, and my liege and sovereign in a lasting union; but I will not abuse your confidence.

I would not have your grace confide aught to me which you might regret I should know, if at any time, which G.o.d forbid! my fidelity to my king and my native land should compel me to seem your and Denmark's foe.

Even in such a position I would esteem and admire your n.o.ble spirit, and I know you would not misjudge me."

"No, Sir Thorkild," answered the king, extending to him his hand; "even were you forced to-morrow, as a loyal Swedish statesman, to become my adversary, I should not misjudge your heart and chivalrous spirit. I value your esteem--answer me freely! think ye I have acted unjustly in this matter?"

"Well then, King Eric," said Thorkild, "allow my answer to be a question to which you can best reply yourself. Had counsellor Jon, and Drost Hessel been with you at this time, think you, you would have so long delayed the advances towards a reconciliation, which I cannot but conjecture was the main object of your prolonged sojourn here?"

"It is not for me, but for the captive criminal, to take the first step towards reconciliation," answered the king; "but I am now weary myself of this procrastination. Here lies a proposal for a reconciliation which I have caused the Drost to draw up. I will see the prisoner to-morrow."

"Why not this very evening, n.o.ble sovereign?" said Thorkild. "If you incline to reconciliation, it was perhaps in a fortunate moment you permitted me to become your counsellor. The accomplishment of your own heartfelt desire is probably more closely connected with this negociation than you imagine."

"Well, I will see him this evening--this very hour," said the king, pulling the bell string. An attendant entered. "Tell the steward, the captive archbishop is to be brought hither." The attendant bowed, and departed. The king threw himself into a chair, and fell into a reverie.

Thorkild Knudson seemed preparing to take his leave.

"No, stay, I entreat you," said the king, and then paused for a few moments. "On this night was my father murdered," he resumed in a tremulous voice; "the man who is about to appear before me was the chief counsellor of the murderers. You shall be present, and see that I am neither revengeful nor unjust; but you shall also see, that even to promote my highest happiness I am incapable of forgetting for a moment, that which I owe to the crown I wear. Read! Only on these conditions will he be released." So saying, he reached Thorkild a written sheet of parchment which lay on the table. Thorkild perused it slowly, and the king watched his countenance as he read. "Well, is it not so?" said Eric eagerly. "I demand only what is just and reasonable--safety for crown and country--peace with the church--obedience to the laws of the land, so long as he is my subject. I will not pa.s.s sentence in my own cause--as a traitor to the crown, he must be condemned by the pope."

"I must own your grace's demands are more moderate than I should have supposed. If you are perfectly correct in the charge you prefer against him, I should still call these terms generous; and yet I doubt whether he will accept them. The parting with Hammerhuus----"

"He _shall_ give up that castle," interrupted the king; "a rebel and traitor shall own no fortress in my kingdom. Were he even seated in St.

Peter's chair, _here_ he is my subject."

"Undoubtedly; and he may perhaps make that sacrifice for his freedom; but the seventh clause--pardon me, your grace, for saying that it seems to me to be in opposition to his duty to the church and to the Holy Father. Until he is deposed by a papal bull, no one can hinder him from using the church's power against whomsoever he will, without asking leave of the king or of any temporal authority."

"He shall be forced to do so!" exclaimed Eric, with vehemence. "While I am king, no miscreant shall persecute me or my subjects with unjust excommunication and all the plagues of h.e.l.l. I am placed here by the Lord Almighty to protect my people and their liberties, and not all the bishops in the world shall rob me of this right. I will answer for what I do before the Lord above as well as before my subjects, and before every true and loyal knight!" So saying, the king again pulled the bell with vehemence. Another attendant entered.

"Light all the tapers in the knights' hall!" commanded the king. "Bid the master of the household call together the whole court and every knight here in the castle. Place my throne at the end of the hall!" The attendant departed in haste on a signal from the king.

"Your grace is too precipitate," said Thorkild; "give not a publicity to your interview with this dangerous prelate which he may abuse to your hurt and prejudice."

"My cause shuns not the light," answered the king. "I use not to speak or treat with my bitterest and deadliest foe otherwise than I dare make known to my loyal subjects and the whole body of Danish chivalry. A traitor's oath demands witnesses."

"But caution and--I trust your grace will pardon my boldness--state policy demand there should be as few witnesses present as possible,"

objected Thorkild Knudson, with anxious sympathy. He would have said more, but at this moment the door opened, and he was silenced by the entrance of the tall Archbishop Grand in chains.

Led by the steward and the three turnkeys, besides two men-at-arms, the haughty prelate stepped across the threshold of the king's private chamber, with a stare of wild defiance, without fixing his eye on any object. He was attired in a white Cistercian mantle, without any of the insignia of a bishop; his proud countenance was pale and emaciated; his beard was shorn, his head was bare, and around his tonsure curled a ring of tangled grey hair. He moved slowly, and every step seemed attended with pain; but it appeared as if, with a contempt of all bodily suffering, he exerted himself to the utmost to prevent his outward appearance from becoming an object of commiseration.

When the king beheld him he involuntarily stepped back, and a feeling of sorrowful sympathy for fallen greatness was manifest in his look, while at the same time the remembrance of his father's murder, and this man's share in the misfortunes of state and kingdom, overspread his n.o.ble countenance with the crimson of indignation.

"You may go," said Eric to the guard. They obeyed, and through the open door of the knights' hall, which was instantly shut again, the king beheld a numerous a.s.semblage of knights and courtiers, looking with anxious suspense and curiosity towards the entrance to the private chamber, through which they had seen the captive archbishop conducted.

The haughty captive continued standing about two paces from the door, and had not as yet vouchsafed a look or salutation to the king. He stood immoveable as a marble statue, and his cold uncertain gaze, now first warmed into life, as it suddenly fixed with frightful earnestness on a silver crucifix, which stood by the side of the king's s.h.i.+eld, on a shelf above a prie-dieu.

"You stand in the presence of your liege sovereign. Archbishop Grand,"

began King Eric; but he paused again to restrain his anger at the captive's look of rude defiance.

"Yes, truly, I stand in the presence of my _heavenly_ Ruler and King,"

answered Archbishop Grand, folding his fettered hands, without withdrawing his gaze from the crucifix. "_He_ shall judge between me and the tyrants of this world."

"You stand also before your _temporal_ ruler and king," continued Eric--"before your lawful superior in this country and kingdom. For what ye have sinned against me and Denmark's crown you will have to answer at the great day of judgment, but first _here_; as certainly as there is justice upon earth, first _here_. I have sent in my accusation of your crimes to the tribunal of St. Peter; the Holy Father hath required me to liberate you that he may hear your defence, or your confession."

"Why then have ye not obeyed, King Eric?" interrupted the captive, for the first time turning his proud glance upon the king. "Will ye delay until the holy lightnings melt the crown from off your brow?"

"How long I shall wear the crown, the righteous G.o.d alone can determine," answered the king. "Without His Almighty permission no power on earth can injure a hair of my head." He paused for a moment.

"When we liberate a dangerous offender," he continued, with more calmness, "he must give us security for his release. The guiltiest criminal shall have the right of defending himself, but not of committing fresh crimes on his way to his tribunal. If he hath any remains of conscience and honour, and if we are to trust him, he must take the oath we require. If he will not--be it so! he may be tried in his dungeon, and defend himself in his chains."