Ulric the Jarl: A Story of the Penitent Thief

by William O. Stoddard

Splendid was the appearance of the Saxons on the morning of the great day of the games at Tiberias, when they marched around the arena with the jarl at their head, for their arms and armor were bright and their bearing was that of warriors accustomed to conquer. They themselves gazed, wondering, as they went, at the throngs which crowded the rising tiers of seats. Among these were many in gorgeous apparel, and the rich women had vied with each other in the colors and shapes of their garments and in the gold and jewels of their tiaras and other ornaments. There was a place on a lower tier for all the free gladiators, and to this the Saxons went after their marching. In it was a covered stairway going down to the door by which any among them might enter a room adjoining the arena to wait for his summons to combat. Each company of the trained ones was by itself and they were not too near each other.

Julius and Caius and other great men, with their glittering women, had a place which was as if it were full of thrones, but in the center of this was one splendid chair in which only a Cæsar or a proconsul might at any time presume to sit. It was this day unoccupied, but against it leaned the eagle standard of a legion and before it were scattered flowers.

The games began with races, both of footmen and chariots, and in these the multitude were interested greatly, but only they who had wagers cared much who might win.

When these were over it was time for the shedding of blood, and a band of captives were driven in, knowing that their fate had come.

"I see no swordsmen," was in the mind of Ulric. "Each of these hath a dart, but he is naked and so are the women and children."

Then uttered he a loud exclamation, for a door under the tiers of seats swung open widely and the den behind it vomited wolves famished with hunger and thirst.

"So many!" said Ulric. "Where got they so many? This is the cruelty of the Romans. I see no sport in this thing. It is but tearing and shrieking, for the small darts avail not."

Nevertheless, many wolves were slain before all the captives were torn down. Men in full armor went out to drive the rest of the beasts back to their den, but it was not difficult, for hunger was satiated and a wolf might carry with him a torn limb or a fragment of raw flesh.

Swiftly a crowd of bondservants cleansed the arena, and the feast of the wolves had not been long in duration.

"There cometh now thy giant with the net and trident," said Ulric to Tostig. "He is very black. He is from Africa. Watch him well, for this thing of his is but a trick of skill. Thou couldst parry that three-pronged spear?"