CHAPTER VI
MYSTACON
Mystacon was the principal trader between Gaul and the northern countries on the one hand, and Italy and the East on the other, during the latter part of the sixth century. He was a Greek, a native of Crete, brought up by a merchant at Massilia, and his life had been devoted to mercantile pursuits, in which his cunning, ability, and absence of all scruples had enabled him to amass wealth, which he sought by every means to increase. In those days Brunehaud, a Gothic princess from Spain, was Regent of the eastern part of France, called Austrasia, her husband, King Sigebert, having been assassinated in 575. Neustria, which included northern and central France, was governed by Queen Fredegonda as Regent to her little son Clotaire II. A handsome woman of low extraction, she had waded through murders and other evil deeds to her lofty position, in which she maintained herself by her strong will. Capable of any crime to gain her objects, courageous and unscrupulous, she must have possessed great ability and astuteness to have been successful in maintaining her power so long in that turbulent age. Her husband, Chilperic I., died by poison administered by his wife in 584, and Fredegonda was Regent from that year until 596. Gontran, the brother of Sigebert and Chilperic, was King of Burgundy. A fourth brother, Charibert, King of Paris, who was father of Bertha, the wife of Ethelbert, King of Kent, died without male issue in 570. These four brothers were the grandsons of Clovis.
The Greek trader, when he found that the fierce nation of the Franks was ruled over by the Queen–Regents, Brunehaud and Fredegonda, hastened to propitiate them by presents, and to secure their patronage. As regards Fredegonda he had been successful. He consulted her wishes, and brought her the luxuries she required both from the north and south, always as free offerings. In return he was under her protection, his goods were to pass unmolested through her dominions, and he was to be assisted by her officers. He had been granted similar privileges by King Gontran of Burgundy, whose country included the shores of the Rhone from Lyons to the sea.
In his northern trade Mystacon employed agents to bring him valuable furs and amber, and even unicorns' horns, from the countries bordering on the Baltic, tin from Cornwall, and occasionally he paid sea–thieves to kidnap young children from the north, who fetched high prices in the markets of Rome and Constantinople. He had a shed at Ambleteuse where he received his northern merchandise, preferring that little port to the neighbouring harbour of Gessoriacum (Boulogne), because a Frankish officer, from whom his gifts had secured him favour and protection, was stationed there with a strong body of disciplined followers.
Mystacon had been several days at Ambleteuse, his merchandise was stored in the shed, and his servants had pack–horses ready to convey it southward along the old Roman road, when the vessel from the Humber anchored off the port and landed its cargo. The crew was composed of such dangerous villains that the merchant induced the Queen–Regent's officer to post armed men behind his shed, before he ventured to confer with them. Besides a pile of beaver skins and other commodities, seven boys were put on shore. They stood on the sandy beach close together, the little ones clinging to the three bigger lads. All were wet through, and looked half–starved and miserable. Porlor and little Godric were clinging to Coelred. Sivel had his arms round Forthere, and Hereric nestled under the sheltering arm of the son of Guthlaf. Oswith the fearless, who was nearly naked, with only a bit of sackcloth round his loins, alone maintained a defiant look. There was no longer any sign or token of Berserker rage among the rest.
The wily Greek came forward to look at them. He saw their great beauty and their value, but he also saw from their appearance that they had been cruelly treated. The sea–thieves demanded the payment he had promised, so much for each. "But they are not in good condition," he remonstrated; "the price must be reduced." A livid mark on Porlor's neck caught his quick, searching eye. He pulled down the boy's shirt, and saw that his back was covered with weals, the effect of the cruel flogging he had received. "Damaged goods," he said. Then, turning to his servants, he told them to take the boys into the shed, and to clothe and feed them. "I will only pay half–price for damaged goods," he repeated, turning to the spokesman of the sea–thieves. "That little wild–cat used his knife on one of us," the man answered, "and the flogging served him right." "What is that to me, my friend?" rejoined Mystacon, in a low but irritating voice. "You can please yourselves about damaging your goods, that is your business, but you cannot expect to get the same price as if they were not damaged. If a heavy bale was to fall and hurt one of you, of course it is open to you to cut and slash it if you please, and it may serve the bale right. That I do not dispute. But you must not expect the same price in the market as if the bale had not been cut and slashed. I can only pay you half–price for the boys." The kidnappers could not follow the subtle argument of the Greek, but they began to look dangerous. The merchant retreated back a few paces. "Pay us what you promised, thou cursed cheat, or we will kill thee and the boys too." He retreated rapidly back and cried out for help, as the villains drew their long knives and rushed towards him. In another minute they were all overpowered and thrown on the ground by the Frankish guard. The officer came forward and suggested capital punishment, offering to hang them in a row. "It is the just and proper treatment," said Mystacon, "of those who try to extort full price for damaged goods from unwary traders. As soon as your laudable proposal has been carried into effect, I shall have pleasure in requesting your lordship to accept the large sum which the criminals refused." Another hour had not passed before twenty bodies were hanging from the branches of the stunted pines round Ambleteuse, and before the Frankish officer had an additional reason for extending his protection to the wily merchant.
Mystacon set out with his train of laden horses and attendants early next morning, following the old Roman road by Amiens, Soissons, and Autun to Lyons. The boys had been warmly clothed and fed, and had slept well, nor were they prevented from having a morning bath in the sea. Two pack–horses were allowed them, so that they could ride by turns, while the rest trotted along on the road–side. They found that they could understand much that was said to them by the servants, and when Mystacon spoke the Frank dialect slowly and clearly, they could comprehend the meaning of nearly every word. For in those days there was little difference between the Frankish and other Teutonic dialects.
The journey across Picardy restored the health and strength, and revived the spirits, of the English lads. This limestone tract, with its keen fresh air, arable surface, and well–watered meadows, reminded them of the country round Calcaria. At Samarobriva, or Amiens, they rested, and Mystacon was allowed to store his goods against the wall of the town, and to encamp there by the Roman gate of the Twins, whereon was carved Romulus and Remus suckled by the wolf. This was the first opportunity the boys had found of collecting their thoughts, and holding a serious consultation. Even now they scarcely understood what had happened or where they were. Their first words, as they sat among the bales, were words of grief at the sorrow and anxiety of their relations, who would search high and low through the woods, until at last they gave them up as dead. "Alca will give them hope and courage," said Coelred. "She will know that we are together, and she knows that we shall return. For we are to die in battle fighting for a righteous cause, and that cannot be anywhere but in England. She is praying now that the gods will watch over us, and her prayers are ever answered." These words, spoken with an air of conviction, comforted the rest. "We must suffer," said Oswith, "but that does not signify when we have such good reason for hope. Porlor has already suffered more than the rest of us." "At that I rejoice," said Porlor, whose little head had been teeming with ideas suggested by Mithras and the bull, ever since he had gazed on the sculpture at York. "Through suffering we shall all win the rewards prepared for the true and brave; and the thong those niddring thieves called lorum is no word of bane to me, but of good luck." "Nay, then," said Hereric, smiling, "we must fasten it to thy name and call thee Porlorlorum." "Let it be so," answered the imaginative child; "it will remind me, and all of us, in the happy years that will surely come when this darkness has been turned to light, that we had to pass through suffering to happiness and home."
They then began to wonder what their position really was, and whither Mystacon was taking them. They had already discovered that he was a cunning liar, and they believed nothing he told them, although he had uniformly treated them with kindness. Forthere proposed to run away, and both Coelred and Oswith were inclined to some plan of making their way across country to the coast, and seizing a boat. But they would not attempt it unarmed. Alca had told them that little Porlor should give them counsel, and they all turned to him. "My rede is that we wait to learn more, and to see what will happen," he said. "I do not fear the distance this man is taking us from home, if we have knowledge. A short distance with ignorance means disaster, perhaps death. A very great distance is easy to go over with knowledge of all the obstacles, and of the way to overcome or avoid them. The wisdom of Alca and her insight will bring comfort to our parents. It is for us to remember her words, to follow them, to wait and watch until the time comes for us to go home. I know the time will come, and the gods will watch over us." "We will wait and watch," they all said. It was now dark. They laid their weary heads down side by side, and passed into a happy sleep. Their dreams were of home and kindred.
The boys had their morning bath in one of the numerous bright little trout streams, bordered by aspen and willow, which flow down to the sands of St. Valery. Later in the morning, as they sat talking near the Gate of the Twins, a monk came out in a long dark–coloured cassock, with a rope round his waist. He was a young man, with a patient look in his grey eyes, and a circlet of thick fair hair round his tonsure. When he saw the lads, he stopped to improve the occasion. He asked them if they knew what had happened at that Gate of the Twins, and he told them the story of St. Martin. "Out of this gate," he said, "long, long ago, a brave and virtuous Roman soldier named Martin rode, on a very frosty winter's day. He had a cloak wrapped closely round him, and as he passed along the causeway he saw a poor man shivering with cold. Martin drew his sword and, cutting his cloak in two, he gave half to the beggar. This was charity, the greatest of all virtues, which covers a multitude of sins. Martin was afterwards baptized in the half cloak, and became a Christian and a Saint." After a pause he asked, "Are you Christians?" Coelred answered that they did not so much as know that there were such people as Christians. "But," he added, "we know very well that it is good to give to those who are in need; for the Princess Alca has taught us." "We know it," said Hereric, "and we try to remember to act as she has taught us, but we are not always able to do right." The hearts of all the boys were warming towards the young monk.
There was a longer pause, and then the monk told them that they must be baptized into the fold of Christ. He raised his voice. "The Son of God went down into hell, but now He has risen from the dead." The boys started to their feet with looks of astonishment and deep interest. These were almost the very words spoken by the Princess Alca, under the ash tree at the foot of Garraby Hill. "Then Alca is right!" they exclaimed. "She is always right. The Son of God has risen." Porlor went on to ask about baptism, when Mystacon came forward. He had been listening to the latter part of the conversation, and did not like it. Concealing his displeasure by a forced smile, he invented a lie on the spur of the moment. "By the order of the Bishop of Noviodunum," he said, addressing the monk, "these Pagan youths are being conducted to his city to be duly instructed and baptized. I thank you for the interest you have taken in them, but your help is not needed." There was nothing more to be said. The good monk gave his blessing to the boys, and went on his way, while Mystacon issued hurried orders for the pack–horses to be loaded, and in another hour he and his merchandise were again journeying southward; but he kept well clear of the city of Noviodunum (Soissons).
The most anxious part of the journey for the merchant was approaching. He was bound to visit the Queen, wherever she might be, both on the way north and south, and she took whatever she fancied without paying. Even this heavy and uncertain tax generally left a wide margin of profit, but it was a source of anxiety, and he now feared that she might take a fancy to the beautiful English boys. Fortune, however, favoured him. Fredegonda was, he had ascertained, at the manor of Braine–sur–la–Vesle, between Soissons and Rheims, but he had also learned that she was on the point of departure. He cunningly timed his arrival on the day that she was to begin her journey, in the hope that she would accept a present, and, in the hurry of starting, forgo her usual practice of rummaging through the whole contents of his caravan. Late on the third evening after leaving Amiens, Mystacon encamped outside the gates of Braine–sur–la–Vesle. This Merovingian palace was an immense farm, with large unfortified wooden houses, stables, barns, and cow–sheds. In the morning the Franks in attendance on the royal family began to march out of the great enclosure. They had a fierce air, with large and vigorous bodies, inured to cold and hunger. Their favourite weapon, the battle–axe with a short handle, rested on their shoulders, and they wore their long hair tied up over their foreheads, forming a kind of aigrette, then falling behind like a horse's tail. The long line of the escort of warriors was followed by several waggons drawn by oxen. In the first sat Fredegonda, with the little King Clotaire, then only four years of age. She was a most formidable–looking woman, with a fierce, cruel glance in her large black eyes, and a haughty bearing. Mystacon advanced in a cringing attitude, offering a valuable present, which she accepted, as he had hoped, without stopping, ordering it to be put into one of the waggons. As the royal train passed out of sight, the merchant gave orders to continue the journey to Lyons, by way of Bibracte or Augustodunum (Autun). The boys had seen the warriors, and the great lady in her waggon. But they had been told nothing. If Porlor had known that it was the Queen of the Franks, his rede would probably have been to rush forward, tell her that Hereric was an Atheling of Deira, and claim her protection. But they knew nothing, were kept behind, and were only allowed to peep between the bales.
At Lyons the merchant embarked his goods in a large boat, went down the Rhone to its mouth, and then sailed in a vessel from Massilia to the mouth of the Tiber. Before embarking, the boys again had a long and anxious talk over their position. Mystacon had told them lie after lie about their destination, and they were in great perplexity. He said that he had saved them from death at the hands of the sea–thieves, that he was their saviour and benefactor, and that the journey was for their good. They had thought of telling their captor that Hereric was an Atheling, but on the whole it seemed to them that the knowledge might increase the danger, if it existed, and that their wisest course was to keep silence about themselves. They had enjoyed the journey through France. The sight of a strange country and of many things that were new to them had amused and interested them, and they now looked as bright and fresh as on the morning when the Berserker rage so unfortunately seized upon gentle Hereric, and led to such an unlooked–for catastrophe. Their fate was now sealed. After their embarkation in the boat on the river Rhone, it would not be many days before they would enter the imperial city and become the victims of Mystacon's greed.