And Huon, rejoicing within him that he had not freed Cain, not only to his own undoing but to the sorrow of the world of men, spoke no word in return, only raised on high the mallet he carried and stepped aboard the ship.
Straightway the demon cast off the lashings which held the craft fast and took the tiller in his taloned hand. Out of nowhere there arose a wind which filled their darksome sails and bore them out to sea, carrying them on a course through the waves. All night they voyaged thus, speaking no word one to the other. And in the morning, so swift had been that sailing, Huon saw before them a fair harbor in which lay a multitude of ships at anchor. His heart leaped high as he knew by the banners upon them that these were of the fleet of the Shah from which he had been lost.
Turning to the demon, he spoke for the first time.
“Set roe ashore upon yonder spit of sand for here be gathered a mighty army of mankind and amongst them I may cause all manner of mischief and dire trouble.”
Hearing him, the demon laughed aloud and smote his hands upon his hairy thighs for the pleasure he took in such words. And he obeyed readily, steering for the spit of sand reaching out into the sea, saying, twixt roars of evil mirth:
“Verily will you serve our master well, 0 Cain. I shall carry good report of you to him in Hell. But tarry not too long at this sweet business of bringing men to death and ruin, for there is other work awaiting you.”
Huon leaped ashore, and the demon and the ship were gone in an instant, leaving him alone by the sea. So he walked along the strand until he came to the camp of the Shah. And there he was made welcome with great joy and wonder, which grew with every word of the story he had to tell.
After his coming, they did take this city of Colander which the army of the Shah had held in siege, and many and great were the deeds of valor done in that taking—chief among them being the feats of arms performed by Huon. Dread of him grew among the enemy so that whole companies took flight from the field and rode away in disorder before the passage of the Shah’s forces.
Thus did they march in triumph to Antioch, Damascus and at last reached Jerusalem, where Huon bowed himself at the Tomb of Our Lord and prayed for the success of his arms in the field and a safe return to Bordeaux and the relief of the grievous troubles there.
Now in the plains beyond Jerusalem the Saracens gathered all their armies into one, determined to fly no longer but to meet the foe in one last battle. And to the Emir who was the commander there came the Giant Dorbrye. Taller than any two men of that company was he and tusked were his jaws, as are the jaws of the wild boar that lives in the depths of the forest. His sword was the length of a man and his shield as high as a city gate. The steed he rode was homed like unto a bull and when it breathed it puffed forth flame and smoke.
This Giant claimed of the Emir the right to meet Huon in single combat and the Emir granted him that right. So when the battle began Dorbrye rode fiercely into the fray seeking the Duke, and with each sweep of his sword he slew man or horse.
So terrible was this battle that the sun was darkened by the flight of arrows overhead, and the dust—torn up by the hooves of the mounts— made worse the murk so that the day was as twilight.
In this mist Dorbrye at last found Huon and, before the Duke could move, he slew Huon’s horse with one stroke and took the French knight up with one hand, throwing him across his own saddle before him. So did Huon think that his hour of death had come at last, and he prayed aloud for help against the dire fate which lay before him. But Dorbrye’s horse, coming into a place where many dead lay thick upon the ground, stumbled and fell, and both the Giant and Huon were thrown from the saddle.
Huon won to his feet first and, before Dorbrye could rise, the Duke aimed a shrewd blow at his bare throat and so killed him. Then Huon mounted upon the Giant’s horse and rode back to the fighting. Thereafter none could touch him by reason of his great skill at arms and the belt of magic gems which he wore.
At last the Saracen army fled the field and the men of Persia were left victorious. They pitched their tents by a river and that night feasted their fill, taking much pleasure in it.
In the morning they followed the fleeing Saracens, even to the walls of Acre where the Emir took refuge—sending messengers this way and that across all the infidel lands asking for aid. Several of these messengers fell into the hands of the Persians and having heard the tidings they bore, Huon said to the Shah:
“My lord, by the Eternal Grace of Our Lord Jesu, we have done many mighty deeds, freeing much of the Holy Land from the rule of the unbeliever. But in the doing of this we have lost many men and the land of Persia lies far away, so we can hope for no aid from there. But this Emir has sent messages far and near asking for help against us and if he is fitly answered by only a portion of those who hear him, then shall we be ground to dust between the millstones of our enemies. Therefore it will be wise to hold what we have taken and not be greedy in seeking more.”
All those in the presence of the Shah raised up their voices in support of this advice and at last the Persian ruler agreed that it was right.
But that night Huon dreamed a dark and awesome dream. For as in a vision he stood on the wide plain without the walls of a mighty city. Here was created a pyre for the burning of some criminal. And, as he watched, out of the city came a procession bearing the victim to be burned. But, lo, it was not a criminal they threatened with so cruel a death but his own fair lady!
He awoke from that dream with a cry of horror and despair and ran straightway unto the Shah and told him of that vision, saying that he must return to France with all speed lest that horrid dream prove true.
The Shah wept sorrowfully at their parting, but he gave unto Huon seasoned men-at-arms and a great treasure and he wished him well under the power of God. So did Huon and Bernard take ship once more for their native land, but there was no rejoicing in their hearts—only fear.
XIV. OF CLARAMONDE AND HER GREAT DANGER
Over the city of Bordeaux reigned the governor the Emperor had placed there, and for a full year had he held that office. Heavy were the burdens he put upon that proud city so that men ofttimes remembered their Duke Huon and his gentle lady and in their hearts they hated the Emperor with a black and ever growing hate. There were still those amongst them who had once served in the Duke’s household and who had- fought right valiantly in the defense of the city. And now these did band together and secretly plot that they would, when the hour was right, strike boldly for their freedom.
But in their midst was a traitor and he disclosed all their plot unto the governor. So, in the night, armed men surrounded the dwelling places of those who had dared to hope for better days. And all these were speedily seized and taken before the governor, to be as quickly judged and sent out of the city in chains for the long and weary march to Mayence with only the gallows and a rope to think of as their future.
Now the Abbot of Cluny—he who was fond uncle to Huon and the protector of Huon’s daughter—heard of this happening. And straightway he summoned to him those knights who owed service to the Abbey. These he bade lead out their men and ambush the Emperor’s party to free those who were being marched to their deaths.
And it all chanced as the Abbot had hoped. The Emperor’s men were routed and put to utter defeat, and their commander, a baron of the Emperor’s own household, was killed. But the men of Bordeaux were set free and came to Cluny to claim protection of the Abbot, making many plans against that day when they could enter again into their city with triumph.