Ekkehard: A Tale of the Tenth Century. Vol. 1 (of 2)

by Joseph Victor von Scheffel

"That will only serve me right," returned Heribald. "Why did I not fly with the others?"

Ellak, casting a searching look at the queer fellow, was struck with another idea. He made a sign to the standard-bearer, who approached, swinging in the air his flag with the green cat, which had once appeared to King Attila in his youth. In a dreamy mood, he was sitting in his uncle Rugilas' tent, reflecting whether he had not better become a Christian and serve God and science, when the cat came in. Amongst the treasures of Rugilas, it had found the golden imperial globe, which had made part of the booty at Byzantium; this it held in its paws and played with it, rolling it about on the floor. And an inward voice said to Attila: "Thou shalt not become a monk, but thou shalt play with the globe of the universe, as the cat does with that golden bauble." Then he became aware that Kutka, the god of the Huns, had appeared to him, and so he swang his sword in the direction of the four quarters of the world,--let his finger-nails grow, and became what he was destined to become, Attila, King of the Huns, the scourge of God!...

"Kneel down, miserable monk," cried Ellak, "and worship him, whom thou seest in this flag!"

But Heribald stood immovable.

"I don't know him," said he with a hollow laugh.

"Tis the God of the Huns!" angrily cried the chieftain. "Down on thy knees cowlbearer, or" ... he pointed to his sword.

Heribald laughed once more, and putting his forefinger to his forehead, said: "If you think that Heribald is so easily imposed upon, you are vastly mistaken. It has been written, when God created Heaven and Earth, and darkness was upon the face of the deep, He said: let there be light! Now if God were a cat he would not have said: let there be light! Heribald will not kneel down ..."

A Hunnic rider, who had stealthily approached the monk, now pulled his garment, and whispered in an excellent Suabian dialect in his ear: "countryman, I would kneel down, if I were in your place. They are dangerous people." The warner's real name was Snewelin, and his birthplace was Ellwangen in Riesgau, but in the course of time he had dropt his Suabian nationality and had become a Hun; which transformation had rather improved his outward fortunes. When he spoke, his voice had something windy about it, which was caused by his having lost four front-teeth, besides several back ones; and this had been the principal reason why he had became a Hun. In his younger days namely, when he was still earning a peaceful livelihood in the capacity of cart-driver of the Salvator convent, he had been sent northwards, with a cart-load of choice Neckar-wine, to the great market at Magdeburg; a well armed escort, accompanying him. To that town, the priests of the heathenish Pomeranians and Wends, always resorted to buy their libation-wine, and Snewelin made an excellent bargain, when he sold his wine to the white-bearded upperpriest of the three-headed God Triglaff, for the great temple at Stettin. But afterwards, he remained sitting over the wine with the white-bearded heathen, who, being a great friend of the Suabian nectar, soon became enthusiastic, singing the praises of his native land, and saying that the world was infinitely more advanced in their parts, between the Oder and the Spree. He tried moreover to convert Snewelin to the worship of Triglaff the three-headed one, and to that of the black and white Sun-god Radegast, as well as to Radomysl, the Goddess of lovely thoughts,--but this was rather too much for the man of Ellwangen. "You infamous heathenish swindler," exclaimed he, first upsetting the wine-table, and then flying at him--as the young knight Siegfried did at the wild, long-bearded dwarf Alberich,--he wrestled with him, and at one strong tug pulled out the half of his grey beard. But his antagonist, calling on Triglaff to help him, dealt him a blow on the mouth with his iron-plated staff, which for ever destroyed the beauty of his teeth; and before the toothless Suabian cart-driver had recovered from the blow, his white-bearded antagonist had vanished, so that he could not take revenge on him. But when Snewelin walked out of the gates of Magdeburg, he shook his fists northwards, and said: "we two shall meet again, some day!"

In his native town, he was much laughed at on account of his lost teeth, and so, to escape the continual ridicule, he went amongst the Huns, hoping that perhaps some day, when these should direct their steps northwards, he would be able to settle a heavy account with the three-headed Triglaff and all his worshippers.

Heribald, however, did not heed the curious horseman's warning. The woman of the wood had meanwhile got down from her cart, and approached Ellak. With a sinister grin she looked at the monk. "I have read in the stars, that by the hands of such bald-headed men, evil will befall us," cried she. "To prevent the coming danger, you ought to hang up this miserable creature before the cloister-gate, with his face turned towards yonder mountains!"