Ulric the Jarl: A Story of the Penitent Thief

by William O. Stoddard

"Nevertheless," growled Wulf the Skater, "I will slay that master of the games. O jarl, if we had lost thee!"

So said the other Saxons, crowding down to greet him, but the bandages were made firm, the mail and the helmet were put on, and then out across the arena marched they all, the jarl leading them.

"Truly he is not slain," muttered Julius. "I have lost my beasts and my sesterces!"

At the great portal, however, Caius waited with a chariot.

"Not to thy quarters, O Saxon jarl," he said. "I take thee to Capernaum for thy healing. All thy men will follow now, and a ship waiteth at the seaside. Julius must not see how thou art wounded. Wilt thou live?"

"He will live," said Ben Ezra. "Speak not now. Harm was done by claws, but more by a paw stroke on the head. But for that he had slain them sooner, and he was torn only while he was fallen. A hard battle, O Caius of Thessalonica."

"He and his have beaten Julius for me," said Caius. "They shall fight no more save at Jerusalem and at Rome."

"May we tarry long enough to offer sacrifices to the gods of this place?" asked Knud. "I would leave them in good humor. It is well to be on good terms with the gods."

"What sayest he?" asked Caius of Ben Ezra, but Ulric himself responded:

"Peace with thy gods, O Knud. Let alone. I saw when I was under the tiger's paw. I thought at first of the valkyrias, but they came not. The gods of this place we will leave here. They are nothing to us. Come!"