Having seen his daughter, the Duke now planned to go into Mayence where he might, with the aid of the Lord Jesu, set free those who believed and trusted in him, the chiefest being the Lady Claramonde for whom his heart hungered with a pain which never ceased.
So did he take the juice of nutshells and brown his face and hands and let loose his hair to hang untidily upon his shoulders. He put off his bright mail, leaving on him only the belt of wondrous gems. And this he did conceal under the worn clothes of a pilgrim and a shabby cloak of the hue of beaten ashes, so that he seemed one who might beg his way from door to door.
And Bernard did likewise so that no man would know him. In this guise they went into Mayence, arriving there at Eastertide. The city was full of pilgrims who had come thither to visit a shrine, and from these pilgrims Huon learned two pieces of news which were worth much to him.
The first was that when the Eastertide was over the Emperor had sworn a most solemn oath before all his lords that he would do to death all those from Bordeaux and with them the Lady Claramonde. And this made Huon’s heart cold within him. Bernard urged that he go again to Cluny and bring to Mayence those who were Huon’s men that they might make a desperate sortie to free their lady from this dire peril.
But Huon said him nay for he thought upon the second thing he had heard and there seemed to lie within that the germ of hope.
“Long have we been at war,” he said unto Bernard, “and many men have we slain. But these were unbelievers and not of our race and kin. If we go up against the Emperor now with bared swords and the harness of battle girt upon us, more innocent blood will flow, all to no man’s gain. Still your hot blood and list now to me. It is the custom of this Emperor to go to mass early upon the Easter mom and when the mass is said and done he will grant to the first asking it of him any boon that man desires, swearing to that on the high altar itself.
“Now it is in my mind to go into the church in the early hours of this night and seek out a place close to where the Emperor shall be. And if God will it so, that first boon shall be mine. The Emperor dare not gainsay it afterward, lest he be forsworn before the eyes of all Christendom!”
So Huon did as he had planned. He put on him again the robe of a belted knight, but he did not order his hair or wash the stain from his flesh. And over this robe he pulled the beggar’s cloak. Then he went into the cathedral and took a place not far from where the Emperor would stand. So did he bide the remainder of the night, praying for success in his venture.
In the very early morning the Emperor and his court came to hear mass and few noted the beggar who stood in the shadow, but when the mass began Huon took from beneath his cloak a rosary. And this rosary was made of fine gold and the beads of it were carved gems, the cross wrought ivory. And the Emperor, loving such treasures, saw enough of it to wish to see more. So when the mass was done he moved not from his place but beckoned Huon to approach him.
“Whence had you that treasure, pilgrim?” he asked.
“From far lands, Lord Emperor, even from the hand of the Holy Father in Rome.” Huon held closer the rosary and the Emperor feasted his eyes upon it and coveted it greatly.
Then did the Duke stake his all upon one chance and he said:
“Lord Emperor, the men of Mayence have told me that on this Easter morn you do grant to the first asker of it the boon of whatever he wishes. Be this the truth?”
The Emperor, surprised, replied, “Pilgrim, it is the truth.”
“Then do I claim that boon, Lord Emperor!” And Huon’s voice was no longer that of a humble pilgrim but rang with all the pride of his blood and youth.
“It is thine, be what it may,” returned the Emperor slowly, for he sensed that more lay behind this than was clear to ear or eye.
“Free the Lady Claramonde and those of Bordeaux who lie within your power and with me swear friendship and eternal peace!”
The Emperor started back and his face was as bleak as winter as he demanded:
“Rash man, who are you to ask such a thing of me?”
Then did Huon drop the beggar’s cloak and shake back his hair. Though the dark stain was still upon him he was so comely that all with the Emperor marveled at him and believed him surely a prince of the blood royal. And he said, in his clear and ringing voice:
“I be Huon, Duke of Bordeaux!”
XVI. HOW HUON MADE PEACE WITH THE EMPEROR AND RECEIVED THE MESSENGER OF OBERON
So astounded was the Emperor that he could speak not a word in that instant and, when again his voice came to him, he remembered the oath he had sworn and that he must give this upstart Duke the boon he asked of him and said:
“Much blood has been shed by the twain of us, Lord Emperor. But know you—I have spent this year in misery and despair. And in the Holy Land I fought to free the Tomb of Our Lord from the defilement of the infidel and there did I pray for the forgiveness of my sins. Therefore I beseech you most humbly—let there now be peace between us and let us swear friendship before this holy altar on the Day of the Resurrection of our dead Lord and Master.”
Then did the stone which had walled up the heart of the Emperor crack and his frown was not so black. So Huon, taking heart, continued:
“Liege man was I from birth to the King of France. But in the hour of my greatest need he came not to my succor, nor did he send even one man-at-arms to my service. Therefore do I now declare that my fealty to him is at an end and that I owe him allegiance no longer. But Bordeaux is no large fief, able to stand alone. So do I now make petition unto you, Sire, to take it as a fief of your crown and let me serve you for it!”
Now was the heart of the Emperor truly moved and he put his hands over Huon’s and took him as his liege man, raising him up to his feet and bestowing upon him the kiss of peace. So did all there rejoice, knowing that strife and unhappiness had come to an end at that moment.
The Emperor decreed a feast and to it came all those of Bordeaux who had so long lain prisoners in his dungeons. Not the least of these was the Duchess of Claramonde. And when Huon received her again into his arms he wept with joy and gave thanks aloud for this favor from Heaven.
From the inner pocket of his cloak he then took the third and last of the Apples of Paradise and this he laid in a dish of fair silver before the Emperor. The apple glowed with golden light and from it arose such a sweet savor it was as if musk and spices had been burned in the hall. Then the Duke of Bordeaux related to the company the story of the fruit and when he had done the Emperor did eat of it. His hair of gray darkened again and his face became plump and ruddy, so that once more he was in his comely youth. All his lords and knights cried aloud in wonderment at the sight and the Emperor had such joy as he had never known before. So as Huon and his people departed to their own city, they went with the love and good will of all the nation of Alamayne.
Once more in Bordeaux, the city and those released from prison rejoiced at. their freedom. And Huon, his lady, and their daughter dwelt in great peace and happiness. But not for long was this to be.
For at nighttime on a certain day of the dying year a knight with a fair train of followers rode into Bordeaux. No man had marked the manner of their coming, they seemed to have sprung from the earth itself. And they stayed not until they came into the hall of the castle.
Having heard of this knight, Huon came forth to greet him courteously, and, as the knight raised the visor of his helmet, he looked upon and knew that it was Malabron of the Elf realm whom he had known beforetimes.