_ BOOK V. THE NIGHT AND THE DAWNING
CHAPTER I
When Wardo had delivered his charges to the superintendent of the mine and received a receipt for them from him, he started back, with his assistants, on his homeward journey. But at Bibracte, where they would leave the main road and turn due south toward the villa, ten Roman miles away, he bade his men wait for him at the station until his return. Instead of striking across country for the villa, he kept along the main road, riding swiftly and steadily, as one who pursues a definite plan. He crossed the Tamesis at Pontes, after a night's rest, and at evening of the next day rode through the marsh-ford at Thorney.
Here he met with one who also was on horseback, splashed to the waist with mud, for even the high-roads were heavy with the springtime thawing out of the frost. He was muffled in a cloak, and his spurs were bloodstained. He hailed Wardo in Latin tinged strongly with a foreign accent.
"Can you tell me, friend, if there be an inn in this place where soft beds and good food may be found?"
Wardo was moved to curiosity.
"For yourself?" he asked, spurring up to the stranger's side.
"Nay, for my lord and his wife and daughter. I am sent ahead to find lodging for them. They are on the road to Rutupiae, to take ship for Gaul, and travel by way of Londinium, where my lord hath affairs to settle; but the women have given out and vow that they will go no farther. So do the chickens break for cover when the hawk swoops."
His voice was slightly contemptuous. He turned his face, covered with a wiry red beard, upon Wardo. His eyes, small and light, glinted from a network of wrinkles under reddish brows.
"You are no Roman," he said abruptly.
"Why, no," said Wardo, somewhat surprised, "I am Saxon."
"Like myself," said the stranger, grandly. "Men call me Wulf, the son of Wulf."
"There is an inn here," said Wardo, without returning information. "I will show you, if you like. It is kept by Christians, and it is clean."
"Then it will be poor," Wulf grumbled, "and the wine will not be fit for decent men."
"There you are wrong," said Wardo. "It is where my lord Eudemius stops with his train when he passeth through here."
"So!" Wulf's glance held awakening curiosity. "The lord Eudemius of the white villa south of Bibracte?"
"That same," said Wardo, with the pride of a servant in a well-known master.
"One hears tales of that house these days," said Wulf, casually. "See, friend, when I have made arrangement for my lords and brought them hither, is there not a place where we might find a mouthful of good Saxon ale?"
Wardo hesitated.
"I fear my time is too short," he answered. "Even now I am late--"
"For the maid who awaits thee?" said Wulf, with a chuckle. "Well, I'll not keep thee then. But this much I'll tell thee now. When my lord sails with his familia from Rutupiae, it will be without Wulf, the son of Wulf. I have it in mind to stay here longer; there will be fat pickings for Saxons by and by, when these Roman lords are crowded out. Hast heard that?"
"Ay," said Wardo. "I have heard it."
"And it is in my mind also to try for some of these same fat pickings," said Wulf, and laughed. "Why not I, as well as any man?"
"If you wait for these Roman lords to be crowded out, as you have it," said Wardo, "it will be some time before these fat pickings fall to your lot."
"Perhaps not so long time as one might think," Wulf retorted. "Hast heard of what happened at Anderida?"
"Oh, ay," said Wardo. "The lord governor of Anderida fled to the house of my lord."
Wulf's glance became all at once as keen as a gaze-hound which sights its prey.
"Had he his son, called Felix, with him, a cat-eyed rascal, who was wounded?"
"Yes," said Wardo, quite proud to tell his news. "And on the evening of the feast the lord governor and his men rode away again. But he left his son behind him."
A gleam shot into Wulf's light eyes.
"So?" he said pleasantly. "Perhaps, then, this son Felix is still a guest of your lord?"
"Ay, so he is," Wardo returned. "Which is to say that he was there when I rode away, and that is now six days ago." In his turn he shot a glance at the red-beard from his steely eyes. "Now why should you ask these things, friend gossip? What concern is this son Felix of yours?"
"Merely that all men like to know what is happening these days. What else? But know you how the man got his wound? Nay, I thought not. Perhaps you know that the leader of that band of Saxons and those insurgent Romans, called Evor, was slain in that affair at Anderida?"
"No," said Wardo. "I did not know that. Who slew him?"
"Felix," answered Wulf.
Wardo looked somewhat startled.
"Then this is why he remained behind!" he exclaimed. His face awoke to a new thought. "Why, death of a dog! if this Evor's men pass through the Silva Anderida and hear that this lord Felix is at the villa, there may be trouble for my lord."
"Ay," said Wulf. There was a certain grimness in his tone. "The son of Evor hath sworn to have the blood of his father's slayer; therefore it is quite likely."
"How come you to know these things?" Wardo demanded. The stranger's manner was always casual to indifference, and Wardo was not over keen to see what he was not looking for. His question came more from curiosity than from suspicion, although of this there was something also.
"News travels fast these days," Wulf said briefly. "I got it from a carter who saw something of the business. I hope you do not think that I was there? Now where is this inn of yours? I must find it and hasten back to my lord."
By now they had reached a cobbled street no wider than an alley, running at right angles to the main street, which led from ford to ford. Down this they rode abreast, and there was room for no other horseman to pass them. Bare-shouldered girls laughed down at them from upper windows; bent crones hobbled from door to door with baskets of fish or produce; children and dogs scampered from under their horses' feet. The evening sunshine fell in long slanting shadows down the dusty street, stabbing shafts of golden light into dark doorways.
Wardo saw Wulf to the door of the "cleanest inn on Thorney," watched him enter, and wheeled his horse. Back again then he rode, with no more than a glance for the long-haired girls who leaned to him from windows, and with a recklessness which sent the dogs and children flying. He turned into the main street, back toward the marsh-ford, and galloped the length of it until he reached a house which stood the third from the end, next to a half-burnt ruin where cattle had been stalled, with a narrow door in a blank wall which betrayed nothing.
Before this he flung his horse back upon its haunches, leaped lightfoot to the ground, and hammered on the door. The wicket was opened a space and closed; then the door was opened. He entered, and it closed after him.
Two hours later Wulf, the son of Wulf, came down the street in the dim twilight, on foot, walking with a swagger. Out of the saddle he was seen to be short and stunted, with legs badly bowed. His breath proclaimed loudly that he had stopped at sundry wine-shops on the way. He was passing unconcernedly, when a whinny from a horse standing before a door caught his ear, and he stopped.
"Light of my eyes, I've seen this beast before," he muttered, going closer to look. "Why, sure, he's the horse of that long-legged yellow-head of mine. Ay, here's the brand I noted on the shoulder. So--we shall see what we shall see."
He knocked boldly upon the door. The wicket opened.
"What will you?" a woman's voice asked from within.
"A friend of mine entered here a little time ago," Wulf began glibly.
"Many have entered here," said the voice. "Who is your friend?"
Wulf's laugh covered a moment of embarrassment.
"Why, in truth, I do not care to name his name aloud," he said. "If you will let me in, I will see if he be still here."
The door opened. Wulf stepped inside, confronting a tall girl, full-throated, long-limbed, with face of purest Grecian outline. Wulf's single keen glance took in the girl, her attire, and the room behind her. His manner changed at once.
"Your friend may not be here," said the girl.
Wulf advanced.
"In truth, I shall not miss him overmuch. Might a weary man purchase food, and a drop of wine, and perhaps a lodging for the night?" He jingled coins in the pouch which hung at his leathern belt.
The girl eyed him.
"You know that you may," she said, very wearily, and crossed the room and opened a door into an inner chamber.
Here the air was heavy with the smell of food and the fumes of wine. There were many people in the room,--men and women; yet in the first glance he cast around Wulf saw his long-legged yellow-head reclining at ease upon a couch, his arm around a slim golden beauty who sat beside him. In his free hand Wardo clutched a brazen beaker, which the girl filled constantly from a fat-sided ampulla on her knee. From time to time she stroked back the fair hair on his temples, and each time he raised his half-drunken head to kiss her shapely arm.
Wulf nodded to one or two men in the room, his face betraying no surprise that he found them there. He bade the dark-haired Greek girl bring wine and two cups. While she was gone a man and a woman slipped away through one of the several side doors, leaving vacant the place next to Wardo. At once Wulf possessed himself of it, without glancing at his neighbor. The Greek returned, and he pulled her down beside him, had her drink with him, kissed her arms and hands with his red-bearded mouth, made love to her with jests and laughter unnecessarily loud. Soon Wardo's attention was caught. He sat upright, steadying himself on the girl's arm, and looked across at Wulf.
"Not too drunk to talk, I hope!" Wulf muttered.
"Holla, Wulf, son of Wulf!" Wardo called, in a voice somewhat thickened by wine. "How didst find the way to Chloris?"
"Who but knows the house of Chloris?" said Wulf, pleasantly. "I did not look to find thee here."
"I? Oh, I am always here. Is it not so, Sada? Am I not always with thee, girl of my heart?"
"Ah, not always!" said the golden-haired girl. "Not so often as I would have thee."
"Drink with us, thou and thy lady," Wulf invited.
The golden-haired girl leaned over.
"Nay, Wardo, thou hast drunk enough. Already the wine is in thy head," she murmured; and Wulf, keen-eared, caught the words.
But Wardo was already holding out his beaker, which the Greek filled at a sign from Wulf.
"Nay, sweet, my head is iron," said Wardo, half indulgent, half in scorn. "Here I pledge thee, friend Wulf, the son of Wulf: 'A long life and a rousing one, a quick death and a merry one!'" He drank deeply.
"That is the motto of my lord master," quoth Wulf. "And light of my eyes, but he lives up to it! There is a man who spends gold as wine floweth through a
colum."
"Ay, but promise you my lord spends faster!" said Wardo, with great pride.
"So?" said Wulf. He gave the Greek a sign to keep the wine-cups filled. "Then must he indeed be wealthy. In truth, I have heard something of a feast he gives at his villa even now."
"The marriage feast of our lady Varia and the lord Marius," said Wardo.
"Men say that the gifts are of a richness beyond all counting," said Wulf. "Of course, being there, thou couldst see it all, and judge."
"Ay," said Wardo. "I saw it all."
With the wine, his tongue began to wag. His eyes sparkled; he drained his cup and set it down with a thump. "In that house is the ransom of an emperor, ay, of forty emperors!" he cried. "No lord in the island could gather such hoard of treasure, not even yours, Wulf the son of Wulf, and I shall fight you if you say so! No man hath seen such jewels, such vessels of gold and silver. There be a million golden cups set about with rubies; an hundred thousand vases of silver; and every woman hath a fan of gold, set with gems. And the jewels he hath loaded on our lady--man, thine eyes have never seen the like! She wears a girdle that blazes like that pharos at Dubrae, which I have seen; she goes belted with flame that dazzles the eyes. On her arms are an hundred bracelets--"
"Of a truth, I do think the wine is in thine eyes, Wardo mine," said Wulf. His laugh was careless, but his eyes were keen.
Wardo flushed angrily.
"Not so!" he cried. "For these six months and more have not goods been coming to us from all the world?" He boasted vaingloriously.
Wulf nodded.
"I have heard that that is so. There must indeed be great store of plunder--of wealth within thy master's house."
"Verily!" said Wardo, somewhat appeased. He told all that he knew, and much that he did not know, fired with eagerness to impress upon this casual stranger the magnificence of the lord whom he served. From mere loquacity he became argumentative, finally quarrelsome. But Sada wound white arms about his neck and soothed him.
But by now the wine was reaching Wulf's head also, although compared to Wardo he was sober.
"That house of thy lord's will be fat pickings for the men of Evor when they come to claim the blood of Felix for the blood which he hath shed. Light of my eyes! it would be worth--"
"What is this thou sayest?" Wardo demanded. He strove to sit upright, but fell back against Sada in drunken laxity. "Speak louder, thou! There be a million bees that buzz within my head."
Wulf waved the women away.
"Leave us, pretty ones, awhile. Is it the first time men have left your arms to discuss affairs?"
Eunice, the tall Greek, went willingly, but Sada clung to her lover and would not go.
"Nay, I'll not leave thee. Speak as ye will--what is it to me? I have no call to remember."
"See, friend, I like thee, and I see no reason why we should not be comrades, for the better gain of both," said Wulf, with all frankness. "We be of one nation, as against these haughty Roman lords who soon must yield to us the field. Oh, but I long for a half-hundred kindred souls to take with me this chance! What chance, say you?--the chance of gain, of wealth and fortune past all dreams. Why should they have all, these haughty lords, while we have nothing? Why should not something of their wealth profit us?"
Wardo shook his muddled head solemnly over this problem old as the ages.
"They have gained it," he muttered, with an air of profound wisdom.
"They have gained it, quotha! Ay, truly, but how? By rapine, taxation, wars, plunder! Therefore why shall not others use like means? If it be fair for them, I say it is fair for us!" Wulf brought down his fist upon the table with a blow that made the cups rattle. "Therefore now is our chance, say I! All is confusion; the lords fight amongst themselves; we are slowly gaining the ground they lose--let us also gain wealth with it!"
He discoursed at great length, repeating himself incessantly, losing himself in endless trains of argument which nobody contradicted. It was not very clear what he wanted, even to himself, it would seem. But he was quite convinced that existing conditions were altogether wrong and something should at once be done about it. What the something should be he did not take the trouble to state. Wardo dozed peacefully, his head on Sada's breast. No one in the room paid the least attention to them.
Wardo roused, in time, reaching out blindly for his cup, and caught a word of Wulf's oration:
"... Gold for the taking. Had I but a half hundred--"
"Gold! That is a good thing to have!" Wardo muttered. He pulled Sada's head down to him. "When I have gold, I shall buy thee from thy mistress. Wilt go with me?"
The girl's fair face flushed.
"Ay, thou knowest I will go," she answered. "Wheresoever thou wilt take me."
"If thou wouldst have gold, my friend, come with me, and it shall be thine in plenty," Wulf cried eagerly.
Wardo looked at him with awakening interest.
"How so?"
"Thus," said Wulf. "We shall take for ourselves what should be ours by right, what is wrung from us by infamous greed. What would suffice us would not be missed by those who have more than plenty, yet even this they will not give us. We must get it for ourselves."
Wardo nodded.
"That will be a good thing to do. Where shall we find it?"
"Why should we show mercy to them?" Wulf declaimed. "What mercy have they shown us? Do they not grind us into the earth; do we not pay in sweat and blood for their idle pleasures? And with all of this, have they not sought to force us to our knees before any new god they choose to perch upon a pedestal? I, for one, will not worship because one man says 'Bow down!' And I do not care who knows it. I am as good as the next man, and I will have my rights."
Wardo, who had never heard anything like this before, was impressed deeply.
"I say so too," he exclaimed with great earnestness. "Let us take what is our own. Then if thou hast rights,
I have rights also. And I will have my rights!"
"Of course! I see thou art a clever fellow, and a man after mine own heart. Drink more wine. See, then, I will tell thee a thing. This lord of thine, who oppresses thee and vouchsafes thee no rights, who wrings from thee what should be thine--thou hast him in thy hand. He hath committed a grievous crime in giving shelter to a murderer. Does he think that his guest will not be demanded of him by those whom that guest hath wronged? For this does he not deserve punishment?"
Wardo nodded, much bewildered at the rapid changes of subject he was called upon to follow. Gods, gold, oppression, murderers, and all at once--and his mind was taxed with one thing at a time.
"Then I see plainly that thou art chosen to execute justice and to claim thy full reward!" cried Wulf, in sonorous prophecy.
"Oh, no--not on my lord!" said Wardo, firmly. "Or, look you, it would be I who should be executed." And chuckled at his cleverness in discovering this point.
"You do not understand," Wulf assured him, patiently. "There is no danger in it for you--none at all. All you will do is to answer these questions I shall ask you now. Tell me then, first, how many men can your lord summon to--let us say, protect this lord Felix when his enemies find him out?"
"With his familia, and the coloni and casarii who own him lord, he can call out near a thousand; though it would take time to gather all of these from his estates. But, my friend, how may the enemies of this lord Felix find him out when they know not where he is?"
Again he chuckled at the point which he had made.
"True," Wulf admitted smoothly. "I but suppose the case. For they are roaming far and wide, and if they find him not, it will not be for lack of searching."
"Now I must tell my lord of this, that he may be prepared," Wardo muttered. He pressed his hands to his temples. "My head is buzzing with your questions, and I am weary, for I have ridden far. Pray you, let me sleep."
"Not yet!" Wulf said hastily, in alarm, as Wardo's head sank lower. "See, friend, you are trusted in your lord's household, I doubt not. Is there a rear door, even a very little one, of which you know where the key is hung?"
Wardo jerked his head upright, his eyes half closed.
"What is this you say?" he asked angrily. "What would you with a--a--little key?"
"Give me a key, and I will give you as much gold as you can carry on your back," said Wulf, low and eagerly, his caution forgotten in the fever of his greed.
Wardo opened his eyes with effort to their fullest extent and stared at him. His voice was thick and stuttering.
"A key? to my lord's house?
Deae matres! What should I do that for? I am my lord's man!"
"You shall come to no harm!" Wulf urged desperately, fearful lest the man fall asleep before he could gain what he would. But at last Wardo understood. He staggered off the couch, clutching at Sada's shoulder for support, reeling and blind with drink, and towered over Wulf.
"Look you, sirrah!" he shouted, so that men turned to look at him in surprise, "I am no traitor to my lord! I am his man, blood and body, and his will is my law and his faith is my faith. I have served him loyally, and so shall I continue to serve. What is this you would have me do? Turn rascal, even as you? Holy gods, I'll show you, knave and varlet--"
Unexpectedly he stooped, and caught Wulf by the collar of his tunic. Wulf struggled, but Wardo dragged him across the floor, shook him, and flung him outside the door and slammed it. He turned to Sada, demanding her applause with drunken self-satisfaction at his prowess, dropped on the nearest couch in abject prostration, and was instantly asleep.
After uncounted hours he roused, to find Sada dashing cold water in his face and calling his name in great distress. They were alone in the room, and the sun was shining through the window.
"What hast thou?" Wardo grumbled. "Let me sleep!"
She shook his shoulder.
"Hasten, Wardo, and undo the mischief thou hast done while there may yet be time. For hours I have tried to wake thee!"
"Harm? What harm?"
"Thou hast told that evil man all he would know of thy lord's defences, of the treasures within his house, and of the lord called Felix who is there. And when thou wert asleep he, being drunken also, did tell Eunice, who bade him render payment for his wine, that it would not take long to send word to these men who search for this lord Felix, and that then he would give her gold and jewels in plenty. Hasten, Wardo, and warn thy lord, or it will be too late!" She wrung her hands.
"
I have done this thing?" Wardo exclaimed, pointing a finger at his own broad chest. "Nay, girl, thou'rt joking!"
"Never that!" cried Sada, with impatience. "Thou wert drunk, I tell thee, and he got out of thee what he would. Thy lord is betrayed, and through thee!"
"Betrayed!" The word stabbed through his dull sodden wits and sent him starting from the couch, his face gray with horror. He sank back with a groan of sheer physical sickness, and tried again, his teeth set, the sweat starting on his forehead. His legs trembled under him, and his eyes were dazed, but he got to the door and leaned against it, his hands over his face.
"If I have done this thing thou sayest," he said hoarsely, "my life is rightly forfeit, and I shall give it into my lord's hand. I do not understand--I am my lord's man, and loyal." He turned to her in stunned appeal. "Sada girl, am I drunk, that thou shouldst fill me with this madness?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Nay," she answered sadly. "Thou art sober now."
The fresh air aided what the shock of her words had begun. He mounted, heavily, yet in feverish desperate haste, whirled his horse about with scarcely a word of farewell to her, and struck the heavy spurs deep. The beast sprang forward, with a shower of sparks from the cobbles.
Sada, returning from the door, ran into the arms of a thin slip of a girl, white-faced and with burning eyes, who caught her and cried desperately:
"What said he of Nicanor? What have they done to him? Does he live still?"
"Peace, child!" said Sada. "Now he hath thought for nothing but this thing which he hath done, and I with him. But last night he did tell me that this friend of his, thy lover, hath been sent to the mines, and that he had been of the guard."
"And I not to know!" cried Eldris, bitterly. "He might have told me how he looked and what he said; and now he hath gone, and I may not ask him--"
"Ay, and I think that I shall never see him more. For surely his lord will slay him when he knows what he hath done," said Sada.
Suddenly she put her head on Eldris's shoulder and wept; and Eldris, by way of showing sympathy, having love sorrows of her own, put her arms about her and wept also. _