King Eric and the Outlaws, Vol. 2 / or, the Throne, the Church, and the People in the Thirteenth Century.

by Bernhard Severin Ingemann

"Well! be watchful, herald! fulfil thy duty!" so saying, the king went to take his seat.

Shortly afterwards Sir Niels and Sir Papæ, with their mysterious friend, appeared, and were about to take their accustomed places. On seeing the reversed bread, however, they started; the knight of the helmet changed colour and drew back a step; but Brock and Papæ hastily replaced the bread in prescribed form, and took their seats with a look of haughty defiance; at the same moment the herald advanced with a drawn sword in his hand, directly opposite to them on the other side of the table; he slit, with the point of his sword, the three small napkins before them. "Sir Niels Brock, Sir Johan Papæ, and you who call yourself Sir Ako Krummedigé!" he said, solemnly, "In the name of Danish chivalry, I cut asunder, as I have done your table napkins, every tie of fellowship between you and knighthood. You are accused of treachery and treason; of a Judas deed and projected regicide; therefore you are ejected from the king's, and every honourable knight's society, until you have met your accuser and justified yourselves, if you are able to do so; in consideration of the gravity of the accusation, I demand of ye, besides, your weapons, and announce to you that you are put under knightly arrest."

The herald then beckoned, and the two pursuivants advanced to receive the swords of the prisoners, and lead them to their confinement. All the guests rose in astonishment, and the king's knights and halberdiers drew their swords.

"Confounded mummery!" muttered the tall knight, Brock, as he rose. "There, herald!" he called in a loud voice, and threw his glove on the table--"Take that to my accuser! wherever he meets me, my good sword shall prove him to be a liar and a fool--where is he? Dare he not name himself and look me in the face?"

"Here he stands!" said a voice from the door of the dining hall, and Drost Aagé stood there erect and calm on the threshold, with his hand on his sword, gazing with a searching look on the three accused knights.

"I laugh at the accusation of a dreamer and a visionary," cried Brock in a proud and scornful tone. "We meet. Sir Drost! I do but deposit my sword in the hands of these men that I may receive it to-morrow, acquitted by the king and knighthood, after washing out the blot here cast on mine and my friends' honour with the blood of the calumniator." He then delivered up his sword to the pursuivants.

Papæ had risen likewise; he also threw his glove with a contemptuous smile on the table--"There lies my pledge." he said, "and here is my answer to my accuser, whoever he may be, even though he should be given over to the devil, and the destruction of the flesh." So saying, he flung his large battle sword on the flagged floor at the herald's feet. They then both went with haughty and hasty strides out of the door, casting one or two flashing glances at the Drost, and with the pretended Ako Krummedigé between them. This silent and disguised knight had become as blanched in the face as his slit trencher-napkin. He had given up his sword to the pursuivants; no sound issued from his blue compressed lips--but his glance rolled with fearful wildness beneath his bushy and blackened eyebrows; his legs tottered under him, and he was forced to take hold of the strong Sir Niels to keep himself from sinking on the floor. The Drost himself followed these dangerous prisoners to see that the formalities of their imprisonment were legally and properly conducted.

This singular occurrence had excited great astonishment. The general silence was soon succeeded by a low whispering. The two daring knights were well known; every one was aware that they were suspected of having abetted the archbishop's flight. It was also known that they belonged to the discontented in the land;--of friends they had not a few; and they passed for brave, independent lovers of their country, who cared not to flatter royalty, but had strength and courage to maintain the liberties of the people, and their own rights in council against the mightiest. That they should have joined in treasonable conspiracies did not seem probable; and it was supposed the Drost had been too precipitate in making this singular charge. As the king's favourite, he was not free from the attacks of envy. "It is sad to think of the young Drost," whispered one of the junker's knights, "he is such a dreamer he scents treason everywhere, and makes the king to be hated, by his ill-timed zeal." Respecting the unknown knight with the helmet, and his guilt, there were many conjectures; he appeared in a suspicious light to most of the company--but that one of the outlaws should have dared to enter into the king's presence and sit at his table, seemed an act of such presumptuous daring, that none believed it to be possible. Meanwhile, all took their seats. Although the wine-flasks soon went round, the company appeared, however, unable to forget the unpleasant transaction which had clouded the king's countenance, as well as his step-father's; and, as it seemed, had also thrown Junker Christopher into an anxious and uneasy mood. It was not until all were seated, that Drost Aagé again entered the supper hall. He also was silent and depressed. He took his seat directly opposite the king and Junker Christopher. The three nearest knights rose to make room for him, according to the ancient usages of the table, and he sat down without saying a word respecting the accused and their crime. He seemed lost in reverie, and appeared not to notice the unusual flagging of the conversation around him; but his attention was in reality rivetted with affectionate sympathy on the deep emotion he thought he discovered in the king's countenance. The gloomy sternness before depicted in it seemed now to be lost in thoughtful sadness. Eric sat with his wine cup in his hand, and regarded with a kindly look his friend and step-father Count Gerhard; at last he nodded involuntarily, and turned towards his reconciled foe, Duke Eric of Langeland. "A health in honour of the negotiator of peace and of my reconciled kinsman!" he said, suddenly rising from his seat. All the knights stood up--and the king continued--"Even this feast in honour of peace hath been made gloomy to me by traitors; they shall have their deserts; to-morrow is the day for passing sentence; to-day we will not think on it. At this moment, I trust in the Lord and our blessed Lady that no secret traitor drains a cup in our hall. Long live Count Gerhard and Duke Eric!"

"Long life to them, and long live our noble king!" was echoed from mouth to mouth, with great and nearly universal enthusiasm, while the goblets rang, and the horn-players, on a signal from the herald, made their instruments resound through the hall.

Junker Christopher had also joined in the general shout of acclamation, and the king appeared especially to rejoice at hearing his brother's voice so animated on this occasion. His eye sought the junker's while he rung his glass against his; but Christopher's glance was cold, restless, and irresolute, while his cheek glowed, and he twisted the corner of his napkin with his left hand. A smothered sigh escaped the king's breast as he again resumed his seat. Aagé now observed, with great astonishment, that there was a large rent in Junker Christopher's napkin, which he was vainly striving to conceal with his hand. The king seemed to have made the same discovery at the same instant. He had suddenly changed colour, and his countenance expressed a fearful degree of wrath and grief; he made a movement as if he were about to start up, but instantly recovered himself by a strong internal effort; he set down his cup directly before him on the table, and, by pushing his own napkin from him, contrived to hide with it the rent in his brother's.