Not long could he look, however, for he and Hansei were in the thick of it, well to the fore, where Rudolf’s banner-bearer had his place. In the close quarters there was no work for the bowmen, so Wulf fought with the sword that Karl had given him the day before, and a goodly blade he found it; while Hansei wielded a great pike that he had wrested from one of the baron’s men, and laid about him lustily wherever a foe showed.
So the hours passed, and many men were slain on either side, when it began to be felt by the emperor’s soldiers that the Swartzburg men were slowly falling back toward the defile to gain the castle.
“An they do that,” Hansei gasped, as he met Wulf again, “a long and weary siege will be ours; for thou well knowest the Swartzburg’s strength, and well hath the baron made ready.”
Then to Wulf came a right warcraftly notion, which he told to Hansei, whereupon the two set to gather to them some score or more of the young men, and these fell back toward the edge of the battle, until they were out of the press and hastening through the wood, as Wulf knew how to lead them.
They came at last to the morass, not far from where he and Elise had crossed that night when they fled from the castle.
“There is never a crossing there!” Hansei cried, aghast, when he saw the place; but Wulf laughed.
“Crossing there is,” he said lightly, “so that ye all follow me softly, stepping where I step. Mind ye do that, for beyond the willows and the pool yonder is quicksand, and that means death, for no footing is there for any helper.”
Thus warned, the young men looked at one another uneasily; but none fell back; so, unseen by the foe, and noting well each step that Wulf made, they followed him until at last they won clear across that treacherous morass, and came safe aland again among the osiers, well up the pass toward the Swartzburg. Here they rested, getting their wind, and jesting in high glee, as hot-hearted young fellows do, over the sport that was to follow.
More than an hour they waited there, and by and by the sound of battle began swelling up the defile. The baron’s men were in retreat, but fighting stoutly, as they fell back, pressed close by the foe. Already had the baron wound his horn loud and long, and cheerily was it answered from the watch-tower with a blast which told that the keepers there were in readiness, and that open gates and safe shelter awaited the retreating men—when out at their backs sprang Wulf and his fellows, and fell upon them right and left.
Then wild confusion was on all. Those attacked at the rear pressed forward upon their comrades, who knew not what had happened, and drove them back again to meet the swords and pikes of those lusty young men who made the most of the foes’ surprise, and cut down many a seasoned warrior ere he could well learn how he was attacked.