“That is fortunate. It almost seems as if the Divine Hand were pointing the way to the accomplishment of our wishes,” said Conrad. “I have no objection, and assign you to this difficult task. But be wary and alert. Delay not a moment. Let not weariness overcome you, and be not deceived by the quiet around you. It is only the noble lion who openly seeks his prey; the bloodthirsty tiger lies in wait for the approach of its unsuspecting victim. So it is with our enemies. When you reach the camp, hasten to the Emperor’s tent, and if you have to rouse him from sleep, do so, and urge haste upon him and the army. If that is of no avail, then tell them of this valley. Tell them they will find an end to their privations here and they will long for wings to fly hither. Now depart with God’s blessing, and may He go with you.”
A hearty embrace followed these words. The boy went out, mounted his horse, and flew across the valley like the wind. The last rays of the setting sun gilded the mountain tops, and those in the valley saw the young hero riding as if in a blaze of golden glory, and waving his hand to them in greeting, as he disappeared behind the heights. The little band were soon sleeping, all save the sentinels, who noiselessly paced their rounds, listening and watching for any suspicious sound or object.
Chapter VIII
Raymond’s Heroic Ride
Our young hero rode with a stout heart. His steed showed itself a worthy representative of the splendid Arab breed. The waves of a gently flowing stream could not have borne him more easily. His horse’s hoofs hardly disturbed the soil. It glided with the swiftness of the wind or the swallow, rather than ran, and was so perfectly trained that it obeyed the slightest touch upon its shoulder or pull upon the bridle. It never needed the spur and yet the rider, as the noble animal sped along with flying mane and distended nostrils, making the sparks and gravel fly, knew that it could make still greater speed, should that be necessary.
Raymond rode at this speed for nearly an hour. The night was very dark and so still that only the echoes of his horse’s hoof-beats were heard among the neighboring hills as he flew at a swift trot through the ravines and passes. At times he heard the cry of the hungry jackals in the dense forest, but no other sounds reached his ears.
Thus in the silent solitude of the forest, far from friends but perhaps close to lurking enemies, our hero said good-bye to his youthful days almost before he had entered upon them, and boldly took up the work of manhood. He knew nothing of that silly fear which arises from the imagination. However or wherever he might encounter an enemy, he determined to show his knighthood if that enemy met him manfully. The possibility of defeat never occurred to him. He felt himself under divine protection. He believed, as his comrades did, that this war against the Turks was well-pleasing to God, and that all engaged in it were under His special protection, for had not God been with them thus far in all their troubles? Had He not already guided Conrad well-nigh to the accomplishment of his purpose? Since the honor of bringing that purpose to completion had been assigned to him, surely God would guide him also and bring him to success.
With such uplifting thoughts his soul was filled as he rode rapidly on, watching carefully all about him lest he should be surprised by some unseen danger. His road now lay between two walls of rock, which loudly echoed the clatter of his horse’s hoofs. The stony ground made the slightest sound audible. It was one of those spots which the Turks had defended so obstinately and which the Christians had taken in their recent gallant attack. While thinking of the possibility that the enemy might be lying in wait upon the mountain sides, if not for him then for the army, and that the outlet of the pass might be blocked, a slight tremor, but not of fear, seized him as he heard a sharp whiz through the air and a sudden blow upon his armor, which he at once knew was caused by an arrow. Like a flash he touched his steed’s flank. The Arab bounded, gave a loud snort, and then flew like the storm-wind. Stooping a little in his saddle, Raymond glanced up the heights. He thought he saw dark figures gliding about who had delayed attacking him in their uncertainty whether he was friend or foe.
There was a great difference between the hoof-beats of the Arab and those of the Crusaders’ horses. Misled by this and by their inability to see distinctly in the thick darkness, the Turks lost an easy victim. But Raymond was not yet out of danger. He heard individual calls, which the echoes repeated over and over again. It was clear they came from outposts warning those in the distance of his approach. He still further increased his speed, for delay now was dangerous, thinking that by swifter flight he might reach the end of the pass before the Turks could oppose him in force. While he was still some distance from it, the moon rose and shed its faint lustre upon the mountain sides, making his enemies look like ghosts. As he urged his horse to its utmost speed, that he might not be an easy mark, the ravine was suddenly illuminated with moonlight, and directly ahead of him a faint streak of light appeared. It was the outlet of the pass and beyond it the open country was flooded with the radiance of the moon. With thankful heart he looked up to heaven, gently patted his noble horse, which, seeming to understand the meaning of his caresses, shook its mane, tossed its head, and bounded along exultantly.
Imagine Raymond’s feelings, however, when he espied two dark figures at the outlet of the pass whom he instantly recognized as Turkish horsemen. His good lance was levelled at once, ready for a strong thrust with his right hand, while his left held his shield before his breast. He rushed upon them at a furious gallop with the intention of running down the one on the right, at the same time protecting himself against the other with his shield. He had hardly formed his plan when a skilfully aimed arrow hit his shield and fell to the earth. His practised eye saw that it came from the right side. All that he had now to fear was the other enemy with his keen scymitar. He must dispose of him before the archer had time to place another arrow. In an instant he was upon him, ran his lance into his breast and threw him from his horse. The animal struggled and pranced about so furiously that the archer was confused and his arrow flew wide of its mark. The prospect of victory encouraged our young hero. Emboldened by the success of his first onset, and expecting to be attacked at any instant by the enemy in his rear, he swiftly turned, levelled his lance, and rushed upon his enemy. The Turk was ready for the attack, but as he had no means of protecting himself against the thrust of the lance, he dodged aside. The lance struck a tree near by with such force that it was broken in two. The Turk’s eyes glistened with fiendish delight like those of a hyena. He swung his scymitar above Raymond’s head with the intention of severing it at a blow. The Turk’s dexterity with this weapon made the situation extremely dangerous for our friend. He seized his shattered lance, however, and hurled it with such force that it averted the scymitar from its course and knocked his enemy’s turban off. The Turk was furious with rage, but Raymond was cool. He drew his sword and like a flash smote the Turk’s uncovered head. A dark stream of blood gushed forth, and a muttered “Giaour”[29] escaped from his lips, as he fell from his steed dead.
Raymond now fully realized the danger of the position he had been in, and his victory seemed almost miraculous. Alarmed by his experience and dreading new dangers, he urged his horse to swifter flight. Danger was more imminent on those broad moonlit plains; for his enemies, who had been swarming round him in the mountains, would certainly betake themselves to the open country as a more favorable spot for their operations and more likely to result in his capture, as their horses were fresh and well fed. The cowardly thought of avoiding battle, however and whenever it might come, never occurred to him; indeed, for an instant, he was inclined to halt and face his pursuers. His better judgment, however, told him this would be a mistake, for in that case he might fail to accomplish his purpose of reaching the army and delivering his message. He reflected that the lives of thousands hung upon his success, and among these thousands was the noble Emperor and hero, the flower of chivalry. So he still rushed on, for horse and rider were unwearied. Two hours later they skirted a dark forest, shadowed by a mountain range, the last he would have to cross, for upon its other side were the army’s outposts, and thence the road led straight to the Emperor’s camp. The road here was not so rough as that where he had made such a fortunate escape. It wound through gently rolling foothills, and was seldom stony, the most of it being covered with a soft, springy turf, upon which his horse’s hoofs made but little noise. While his progress was easier and swifter, still it was to be taken into account that horsemen could approach him on every side and that his pursuers had no obstacles in their way.