Then Huon went down into the castle and brought forth his mail and his sword. Only shield he had none for the serpent had rent it apart with its fangs. And having made all ready, he told those who were in Adamant what he had chosen to do. All cried out against his plan, saying that his folly would only bring him to a horrible death, but he answered them firmly in this wise:
“There is no way out of Adamant for mortal man save this. And in Adamant I cannot bide happily nor at peace when I know that Bordeaux and all it contains, which is dearer to me than my life, lies in danger. So shall I attempt this way of escape by the aid of the griffin.”
In the middle hour of the night, while it was still dark, he put on his mail and girt on his sword. So accoutered he climbed down the mountain to the wreckage and sought out the deck of the ship where lay the dead Saracens. And there he lay down among the dead and waited for the dawn.
With the light in the east came the griffin, its wings making thunder in the air. Huon lay un- moving, faint with hope. Down swooped the griffin and its claws fastened upon the Duke. But by reason of his mail they did not pierce his body. Up was he borne so fast that the wind rushed about him and he was fain to close his eyes upon a reeling heaven and earth.
The griffin flew steadily across the desert and cliffs surrounding Adamant until it came to a great rock standing like a pillar. On the crest of this was the nest where cried five offspring of the monster, their iron beaks gaping for the prey the mother bore. And into the midst of these did the parent griffin toss Huon.
Again his mail saved him from cruel death, for sharp as were the beaks and claws of the young griffins, they could not pierce to any vital spot of his body. And though they drew blood from his limbs he was not torn to pieces as they wished.
Escaping from their clutch, Huon drew his sword and did battle with the young griffins, striking off the head of one, thrusting another through the heart, and at length slaying them all. But as he slew the last the parent monster returned and, seeing what had chanced with her fledglings, she screamed aloud her rage and struck down at Huon so that her beak cut deeply into his shoulder and he was like to be overborne and killed by the savageness of her attack.
Despairingly he thrust upward with his sword, and by good fortune cut through one of the griffin’s legs, crippling the monster. Seeing that he had so gained the advantage, he aimed a second and third blow quickly and brought the creature to her death.
Worn and weak from his wounds he rested awhile and then, knowing that if he lingered there in that desert place he would die for want of food and water, he took up the great clawed foot of the griffin and climbed down from the nest rock.
In the far distance he could see the green of trees and he thought that there he might find water to ease his parched throat and lave his smarting wounds. He could travel but slowly for reason of his pain and distress, so that he was some hours crossing the hot, rocky land. And it was with weak and wavering feet that he came to a wide white gate and looked in upon a garden of such fairness that for a space he thought that he had truly died in that battle with the griffins and that now he had come to Paradise.
X. HOW HUON DID FEAST UPON THE APPLES OF PARADISE AND HEAR ILL NEWS OF BORDEAUX
Cool and refreshing were the winds which blew across that garden and sweet they were with the scent of many flowers. So that when Huon came in, his feet making no sound upon the smooth greenness of the grass, he felt eased of his hurts of mind and body. Fruit of gold and of red and of purple hung heavy and ripe from trees and vines, and a multitude of birds sang through the hours of the day.
At length Huon came to a fountain of clear and crystal water which plumed high into the air and fell again into a basin curiously carved of pearl-tinted stone. Huon, looking upon this, was minded to rejoice in it and he freed himself from his wearying mail and leather and splashed into that pure flood.
Straightway, where the water laved his wounds, they healed leaving no scars to seam his flesh. And his weariness was gone so that he was as a strong man arising after a most refreshing sleep. Thus he lay for a time with his body within the embrace of the water of that fountain until all was well with him again.
Then, coming out of the flooded basin, he saw a tree set apart from the others of the grove, its boughs bending to the ground by reason of the fruit it bore in great quantity. And this fruit was as golden as the sun and from it came a delightful odor which drew him to it. He picked one and found that he held an apple, perfect in all its shape. Slowly he ate the fruit, and throughout his body it seemed that the blood did run more swiftly and his heart grow lighter, and he said aloud:
“How I would that my dear Claramonde stood here with me now and that she held in her arms our dear daughter, that we might be free of our miseries in this garden of Paradise. For certainly this be indeed that Paradise which sinful man so willfully lost!”
And, having finished the apple, he reached forth his hand to pluck a second.
But at that moment a bright column of light appeared beside the tree and within it stood a Being who seemed bodied in flame. So bright ands^ of such fire was this figure that Huon was fain to cover his two eyes with his hands when he strove to look upon it. And the Being spoke aloud in a voice which was like the peal of silver-tongued bells.
“Huon, Duke of Bordeaux!”
Then did Huon fall upon his knees, and he dared not look upon the exceeding brightness of the Being but answered in an humble voice:
“Aye, Lord?”
“Call me not ‘lord,’ Huon, for I am but the messenger of those who are greater than I. But list well now to what I have to say unto you, for sad and drear is the news I bear. Oh, Huon, stout must you steel your heart against the hearing of it now.
“Know you that your city of Bordeaux has fallen to your enemy, and a governor he has set over your fief now does his will there—”
Hearing this, Huon did give an exceedingly bitter cry and held out his hands beseechingly to the messenger. But the bright one had no mercy upon him yet. For when he asked:
“Claramonde and the little one, how fares it with them?”
The messenger made answer: “Your daughter was borne to Cluny by the Squire Bernard and there bides safely with the Abbot, your uncle. But your lady wife lies prisoner in the dungeon tower of Mayence and piteous is her lot. Worse still shall be her fate if you return not to succor her.”
Now Huon stood upon his two feet and from his eyes flashed the fire of dire anger and his right hand crooked to the sword hilt.
“Go you forth, Huon of Bordeaux, to the edge of this garden, and there you shall find a boat floating upon a river. This will bear you hence so that you may come again to save those who have trusted in you. These only may you take with you—”
The Being stretched out his hand, and at his light touch three of the apples parted from their stems and fell to the ground, rolling to Huon’s feet.
“These be the Apples of Eternal Youth and whosoever eateth of them shall never again feel the touch of age, but shall ever be young in the pride of his best youth. Guard them well for they shall serve you in the days to come.”
So having spoken, the Being disappeared and Huon stood alone with the Apples of Youth at his feet. But now his heart was heavy with care and sorrow for those he loved and he had no wish to remain in that garden. Returning to the fountain he put on again his mail and fastened his sword belt about him and donned his helm. Then, with the apples bound within a comer of his surcoat and the griffin’s limb within his hand, he crossed the garden and came in time to a stream whereupon rested a small boat.