Old Celtic tales

by E. M. Wilmot-Buxton

"What matters that?" cried Olger, with bitter look. "What is your son more than mine? I demand that he be given up to me."

"I cannot do it," said the Emperor.

"Then," cried Olger in great wrath, "till you learn justice, sire, we part company." And forthwith he left the Court, and took service with a Lombard king who was fighting against King Charles.

For the next few years Olger the Dane won great renown by his warfare against the Franks, for wherever he went he was always the victor, and his enemies began to look upon his good sword Courtain, and Broiefort, his great black steed, with awe and terror. Many of the Franks said openly, that to let Olger depart and to make him their foe, had been no wise deed, for he came upon them like a blight upon the summer corn. At length they made a plot against him, and determined to get the better of him by foul treachery. So they watched him privily, and found him one day, tired out with fighting, lying fast asleep by a fountain, with his arms scattered far and wide, and his good steed Broiefort grazing peacefully by his side. Then one seized his horse, and another his weapons, and they bound him fast while he still lay sound asleep.

When Sir Olger was brought to the Court as a prisoner, the Emperor wished to slay him, because he feared the vengeance of Olger on his son, and in return for the harm he had done to the Frankish cause. But the knights and barons would not hear of this, saying that they had lent themselves to treachery to save their native land, but that the life of the noblest knight in Christendom should not be lost thereby. So he was put into prison, and kept under a strong guard for several years.

Now, after these days did Achar, King of England, land in France to do homage to the Emperor for his lands; and with him came his fair daughter Clarice. But as he journeyed to the Court a certain Saracen giant named Bruhier arrived with a great army to make war upon the Franks, and he seized the persons of Achar and his daughter, and marched to fight against the Emperor. And so great was the power of this giant that the Frankish army could not stand before him, but fled before his face. Then the barons and knights began to implore Charles to release Olger from his prison and prevail on him to fight for them, and forthwith the Emperor went himself ta the prison to implore his aid. But Olger would not listen for a moment to this proposal, unless the Emperor would first deliver Charlot the prince into his hands. For a long time the Emperor would not agree to this; but at length his whole army reproached him, saying: "Have you no care for us that you let us die by thousands in a hopeless fight? Why should a thousand die for one?"

So Charles was forced to deliver up his son.

Then, as Charlot begged and prayed for mercy, Olger thought only of his fair-haired little boy, and, taking the prince by the hair, raised Courtain to strike off his head. But as he did so a voice from the air cried: "Stay thy hand, Olger the Dane! Slay not the son of the King!" and at the same moment vivid flashes of lightning came about them both. Then the sword fell from Olger's hand, and all who had heard the voice trembled and greatly feared. The King, in his joy at the deliverance of his son, would have poured out his gratitude to the Dane; but Olger only said: "Your thanks are due to God, not to me. I do but bow to His will." And that day the King and Olger were made friends.

But when the Dane would have made ready to fight against the Saracen, he found that nothing had been heard or seen of his good horse Broiefort for seven long years, and all men believed him to be dead. The Emperor sent him his best charger in his stead, but scarcely had the knight leaped into the saddle when the creature fell beneath his weight. Ten other of the finest horses in the land were tried, and, finding that none could carry him, Olger declared that he must go afoot. But a certain man was found who said he had seen the horse Broiefort dragging blocks of stone for the building of the Abbey of St Meaux, and immediately a little band rode off to bring the horse back to his master. They found him but skin and bone, his hair worn off his sides, his tail shorn to the stump, his skin galled by the shafts, a very scarecrow of a horse, yet dragging a load that four other horses could not stir. They brought him to Olger with all speed; and when the sturdy knight leaned upon him, he did not cringe under the weight, but straightened himself, and, knowing his master, snorted and neighed with joy, and pawed the ground, and knelt down humbly before him on the grass.

So Olger went to battle upon Broiefort, and wherever he went he won the day. He slew the giant Bruhier, drove the Saracen from the land, and rescued King Achar, and his daughter Clarice, whom the King of Britain gave him for his wife. And when they were married, they crossed the sea, and Achar made Olger King of Britain in his stead. For many years he ruled this country, and there his faithful Broiefort died and was buried. At length he grew weary of peace, and went to fight for the Holy Cross in Palestine; and there he fought many a hard battle, and won many a victory, till he was old and grey with years. Then he left the Holy Land, and set sail for France that he might see Charles the Great and his Court once more before he returned to Britain, there to end his days.