Travelers

CHAPTER XXIII. THE RIDE TO ISURIUM AND A WILDER RIDE HOMEWARD. Bright were the burgh dwellings, Many its princely halls, High its steepled splendor, Many a mead-hall full of human joys; They perished in wide slaughter, Therefore these courts are dreary. – THE RUIN, Codex Exoniensis. NEITHER a jesting and subtly minded friend's enigma, nor even a sudden seizure of love, will avail very long to keep a man awake when outworn and weather buffeted. Llywarch, with all his people, slept well underground through the remnant of the night. Indeed, much later, for daylight meddled not in that place with either dead slumber or dreamland. No man nor woman molested them, for mercy abode there also. But when their first awakening was heard a very mirthful echo came from the main cave-hall, where voices grew loud and plentiful, as after restraint withdrawn. Yet few men remained when these laggards entered from that side cavern which had been theirs for the night. There were only invalids, and [Page 225] the aged like Edyrn and Gwydion, with many children, and women of every degree. Sanawg came also, revealing more heart in her face than they all. Very playfully she chided her warlike oversleepers, wondering aloud whether such were now the leisurely fashion in great Arthur's encampment, and whether Ossa Cyllalaur would be as tender of rousing them as were the wild cave-people. Outside, the sun-jewels were on the thin night-fallen snow. This was the first of divers restful days; for these hidden people had much to solace their life in good fare and hunters' pleasure, also those gifts of the dairy which mountaineers chiefly love. It so befell that each of the leaders among the guests found opportunity for some exploit which might be long remembered in tale-telling when they were gone. For Dynan, the swift of foot, in one of their hunting-parties, fairly overran a wild boar among the upland ravines, and cut him behind the ear with a slant deadly stroke before any dog came up, or the beast could turn at bay. And Llywarch, one black night when a bear came sniffing about the beehives, – their main hope for mead-honey and home-like merriment, – sallied out with a torch in one hand and a spear in the other, scattered the uproarious pack from before the niche of the rock where that great robber had sheltered himself, and spitted him fairly [Page 226] through the heart, in so narrow a pass that any slip or failure might have drawn death to him. Sanawg did not often take part in such rough games, even as a witness. But for a good part of every day she was willingly with Llywarch, sometimes guiding him to wild and secret places, where rivulets came showering out of the cliff-front, making icicles among the lingering fronds of the fern; sometimes into soft, moist, branching valleys, where the cattle and horses found some little pasture even yet. Less often they ascended the cliff, and ranged the open hill-country for miles, watching warily for Saxon raiders or other unfriendly people. As the end of his stay drew near, they planned a wider flight, even to the wreck of Isurium. All of the quaint cool colony wished them well, holding them near betrothal. But the thought of this journey made her father grave, since rumors were abroad that the Saxon host had begun drifting that way. But Edyrn took Sanawg's hand with a laugh, commending her daring, and the brave sons that should some day be born of her, until her cheek flamed, and she turned away. In mercy he turned his words also. "Llywarch," said he, "it is like enough this ride will give you all that the Emperor will care to know. Somehow the Saxons find the dead city more to their taste than the city of the living. It will be a marvel [Page 227] if you do not see an army worth looking on when you get to the broad plains beyond the ruins." "But then," said Llywarch thoughtfully, "I must own that our dear lady would be safer where she is." "If safety were all," replied Sanawg, "we must admit that it would be safer never to have come into the world. Life is the most perilous of adventures." "The wisdom of Gwydion! The sins of the fathers visited" – chuckled Edyrn. "And it is so long since I have seen our old home!" urged Sanawg, not adding, what was in her thought – "I may soon be where I can never see it again." But this, too, Gwydion understood. A moment he stood by her meditatively, stroking her hair. "Then go, my dear," he said gently; "but, I pray you, be careful." So they set forth in the early dawn, riding leisurely, for they could not tell whether they should come homeward with hot pursuit behind them or no. Their road lay at first over high moors, where little life was visible except the great stalking bustard or the sailing eagle. Then the ground began slanting downward, and grew more rugged and woody. At last they came out upon pleasantly rolling openland, with groves and streams that ran in quiet. About noon they drew rein where Isurium had been. [Page 228] No Saxons were to be seen there, nor any other people, but only a few homeless dogs, very forlorn, and the wild creatures of the wilderness. Nor did it seem that any one would willingly dwell there again, so complete was the desolation. But Llywarch, for greater certainty, had search made in the broken dwellings and all doubtful places near them, and sent forward scouts to find where the Saxons might be. Dynan followed. Meanwhile they dismounted, to dine beside a brier-entangled spring which had once been a fountain of many jets in one side of the forum space. Not far away a few delicately wreathed columns were yet standing, though not all at the same angle nor to the same height. Others lay broken where great force had flung them. All about were dwellings in every stage of dilapidation, from mere rooflessness to utterly formless heaping. Here the floor-mosaic showed, and that only; there the wall-frescoes were coming to light again by the peeling of the plaster which had long overlaid them. Fragments of cornice-work and statuary were built into house-walls; themselves, in their turn, abandoned now and ruinous. Confusion of the old and the new, overthrown together, reached its utmost in a barricade-like wall which encircled this more lately inhabited core of the town. "Here," said Sanawg, "is all the Isurium I have [Page 229] ever known. But it was bright then, and alive with people. What with caravans and travellers and soldiery, many folk went and came." He answered, "Yet it must always have been sad, with those outer ruins everywhere beyond your gates. Not like that great earlier Isurium which beat back the Saxon for a time, after even imperial Eboracum had fallen." He was glad to tempt that sweet voice into telling the old tale again. And those eyes, – what centurion of Syria, holding the gate of that royal city, had found his bride there long, long ago, and left whatever was best of him among the people he guarded? "There was a shadow," said Sanawg dreamily. "I knew it as a child, but I think it did not make me sad. Our people hoped then to roll back the tide, – ah, me, as we are always hoping! Sometimes I rambled through the gates, or was taken pleasuring among thickets and ruins, and wondered how long ago all that destruction befell, and why the heathen must come so far to do us such harm. "Of course I know now that the former desolation was checked by the coming of aid from Caer Ligion before the rugged heart of the town could be stormed, where the desperate townsmen, heaping everything before them, had made their final stand. Later, Ambrosius guarded it until he weakened near his end. What could be picked and gathered from [Page 230] the outer town aided us, it being our quarry, so that we did not fare altogether the worse for past losses. A man might dwell half his days quietly in that Isurium, which was not the proud Isurium of Rome, nor yet this Isurium of the dead. It was mine: it is mine. And I – am just Sanawg of lost Isurium." She spoke tenderly, half playfully, with one arm on the broken coping of the fountain. Llywarch found a subtle and touching fitness in this claim to a heritage of oblivion. "I was very young," she resumed, "when I first heard of the cliffs by the Scaur, where at need we might find shelter. Once – we thought it a long journey – I was taken there to see. Wild and dangerous people held the cave then; and, although the valley was lovely in that summer-time, we were glad to get away. "Afterward there came tidings that the southern Saxons were hard pressing the Emperor, and all strength was drawn to him from our border. Northward and eastward the enemy were gathering, – the Deirans of Caer Ebrauc, the Bernicians behind them, all Saxons together. Soon the storm burst on us, and on all the country as far as the great wall, where it was not wasted already. Then the hills were full of hiding and flying people, and distress and sorrow were abroad everywhere. "In the midst of it Prince Edyrn came down to us [Page 231] from the wall-country, breaking his way like a maddened bull, more eager to do hurt than to win safety. For his great knowledge and skill in arms we made him chief captain; and with these, and the fighting men who thronged our town, the Saxons for that time were discomfited, leaving our little Isurium jubilant, though in a very dismal desert. "But we well knew they would come again; and it was the judgment of cool counsel that we should make all ready to withdraw. So the cave was stocked and guarded; and when news reached us that the great Emperor Ambrose had fallen, we knew it was time to be gone. The enemy were not long behind us, but had little booty; for trade had long been dead, and what we could not take was scarce worth any one's taking. Yet I promise you a slip of a girl was delighted to get away from them, even into a cavern. "There I have grown to womanhood, faintly conscious of the world outside, not unhappy, but forgotten and wondering; buried to all except our little cavern-tribe – just Sanawg of lost Isurium." "But why? It was no place for you," he protested, every ruin around them seeming to grant her its echo. "It is no place for any of us," she admitted quietly. "But Prince Edyrn would go no farther; and since he shielded us we would by no means leave him, nor could a priest forsake the people of his ministration. There are those of them who need it." [Page 232] She looked up brightly, or with a striving for brightness; but the glow of his face was too much for her again. "It grieves me," said he. "And above all that you, Sanawg, in the very opening of your years" – He hesitated, and she made answer. "Oh! I seem to abide it all very well." "It is not in nature nor in duty," he urged. "What is there that others cannot do? Surely your parents will not wish you to linger among the rocks and caves – now that I am here." "They have never told me; how can I know?" she answered, half smiling. "But they know my meaning and the uncommon requirements of the case." "Uncommon, surely. But a few days ago we were strangers; and now, if I hear you rightly, you are requiring me already." She smiled without laughter, but he laughed freely. Then he ceased, all at once, and said, "Sanawg, it is this: I cannot go back without you." "Shall we have another cave-dweller then?" said she, but presently gave her hand kindly. "Remember, it does not all rest with me. I am a good traveller, as you have seen. Also strange and stirring things allure rne. In proof, I am ready now for a look at that great horde of heathendom." A call from their scouts, far up the road, had [Page 233] prompted this. He did not demur. When they had ridden well beyond the town, they learned that the Saxon encampment could be plainly seen from an eminence a mile or two farther on. With brisk hurrying they soon gained the spot, and mounted through the lower wooded part of the slope to the bare scalp of the hill. Sanawg put her hands together, with a little sighing cry of admiration, for indeed it was a rare and gallant sight. The Saxon was no less fond of brightness and gay coloring than the Briton; and with him, being cruder, they made a more obvious show at a little distance. Moreover, what remained of wealth about that old Eboracum, where Roman emperors had set up their standards and gone forth to conquer, was all Saxon now. With few exceptions, the ramp was fresh and clean, as if just from some workshop – acres on acres of white tenting, a profusion of scarlet, crimson, and gold. Sparks flew from weapon-points everywhere; the sun glowed on mirror-like armor. "A pity for so much neatness to be spoiled!" said Llywarch, rather in Cian's vein. Dynan laughed. "Our own folk can be exquisite at the start, if that were all. But marshes and rocks and thickets are unmerciful." But Llywarch had grown thoughtful. "They are more nearly ready than I thought," said he. "And there are even less horse than usual. They will try [Page 234] to break through Celidon, behind Legiolum, and that soon. I hope it may not be far enough west for them to be drawn to the sacking of Loidis." "Amen!" answered Dynan fervently; then he added with conviction, "But they will take a shorter way to a greater quarry. They are many and very vengeful. Think of the glory in shattering Arthur and Legiolum! Think also of the wealth of Caer Lerion, which is yet Ratae the magnificent, and all the temptations of middle Britain." "Yes," said Llywarch. "No doubt that would be their road. Especially," and he turned to Sanawg, "if I may judge by the dipping together of the hills yonder." She answered, "I remember to have heard of a pass through the ridges of the great forest, where once, a long time ago, were some villages, and a track leading southward. I think it must be that. Yet in my time no one ventured into the haunted shadows of Celidon." "And that," said Llywarch, "is another reason why they gather so vastly. The Saxon hates the wood-darkness and the spectres of his own making. I see Ossa Cyllalaur's great tent yonder, well encircled. He is the strongest and bravest of them, or he would never dare this venture. But if we might catch him half-way, his soldiers would be less before getting out again. Here they come, more and more!" [Page 235] His hand waved eastward, almost enthusiastically, where were advancing bodies of men and faint murmurs. Dynan pointed nearer. "They come indeed," quoth he quickly. Some outlying horsemen on the nearer side of the camp were unpicketing steeds, with glances toward the party on the hill. "A woman's curiosity has its limits," replied Sanawg. "I am not curious to know what they will think of us on closer inspection." She turned as she spoke, and rode downward, her friends about her. Many calls and cries, far behind, informed them that the pursuit had begun. Llywarch chided himself, as they rode, for bringing that dear girl into such peril. Their horses already had come a long way, and surely some of the enemy must be able to overtake them. Reversing the usual counsel in a trial of speed, he took the utmost pace at the beginning; for it was life to them to get well beyond reach of that great concourse before any such hampering. At the ruins of Isurium they paused a moment and looked backward. The foremost of the Saxons were just coming into view. A mile beyond they turned again, and saw the road well dotted, even to the dead city. Their own party was straggling now, and they checked a little to unite it. Then they went swiftly again, but with caution. [Page 236] After a time they had hostile attendants at the sides and in the rear; but these were few, keeping their places with effort, and lacking the desperation to fall on with thrust and blow. Jeers were called back and forth in languages ill understood; but the British leaders, riding, with Sanawg between them, at the head, gave neither word nor sign. These clinging enemies did not greatly increase until the edge of the rough country was reached. Then Llywarch, placing a guard about Sanawg, turned suddenly with the remainder of his men, and drove back this living war-spray on the first Saxon wave behind. Striking this, as it gathered and made front, he drove it also. For a time the Saxons held aloof, bringing all their force together, with snow beginning to fall and drive, and the wind in their ears. And Sanawg and her guardians were nimbly in flight again. The weather alone was enough to urge them on, there being a sudden violence in the air, a spreading thickness overhead, and great access of cold. They did not feel this so painfully when in swift, rough motion, even Sanawg uttering no complaint at all; but the ground was already so chilled that snow would lie, threatening impediment. With every minute there was more of it in the air, and drifts were beginning. But for the sure guides with them they must have lost their way. [Page 237] Now and then Llywarch must pause a moment to wrap more and more covering about the lady by his side; and the kindness of her eye was reward enough for every endeavor. Her laugh was low; but unchilled, unfearing. "I began to feel disturbed by the Saxons," she said; "but I hope I am too true a daughter of the cliffs to mind the mere storms of nature. Heathen are not nature, but very unnatural, you know." "It is all heathenish enough," retorted he. "If I get you to the cavern unfrozen, you must seek a milder abiding-place with me." "A frozen bride would indeed be unusual," admitted Sanawg merrily, "and perhaps not cheering." But for all her spirit, the biting and the numbness gained on her, so that there was little more speech between them, but only the set will to keep on. This grew the harder continually, there being many places where the tired horses could no more than flounder through; and but for a party from the cavern, who broke the funnel-like way down the cliff, they might never have reached their refuge. Yet it was not long after that they sat in ample warmth and ease, telling their story over good food to many listeners. That night and the next day the storm kept on; but the air softened notwithstanding, and the snow melted as it blew along or fell. By noon there were [Page 238] only soiled heaps in places of shelter. Yellow brawling streams ran everywhere. Gwydion and Llywarch, standing by the cavern entrance, looked out on this together. "It will be dry, or nearly so, in twenty-four hours," Llywarch began. "Enough at any rate for travel; and I fear the enemy will be astir." Gwydion bowed gravely. "You mean that you must go." "Yes, to warn the Emperor." Llywarch had been gathering confidence. He now spoke roundly and plainly. "Reverend sir, I must not go alone. We have double need of your aid, as priest and father, to send forth Sanawg with me as my wife, beyond sight and hearing for a season. I know well that it is asking much." At this admission, converging wrinkles gathered at Gwydion's eye-corners in a rueful half-smile. "Ah?" said he; "there might indeed be extreme and unreasonable people who would say so, considering the state of the country and of the enemy and the heavens. But I greatly fear Sanawg is not one of them." Llywarch brightened under the gentle irony. "In this and all else she is with me," said he, "saving only her duty to you." Gwydion looked blankly out over the sodden land. [Page 239] Llywarch began again. "Surely you would not have her stay. What certainty have we that the Saxon host, in mere murderous caprice, or following those who affronted them, will not fall on this your refuge? Or, again, they may turn to it in reprisal, coming back worsted from the great wood. At the best, is it to be thought on that she should lose the bloom of her life in these hollows and deserts, with no light in the dismal darkness except what may flow from your ministry and from her own soul?" Gwydion turned to him. "Believe me," said he, "I, too, have not failed to think thus, and her mother also. We have found it cause of grave concern and night-wakening. And I do not know that I need disguise from you the relief that came when we guessed your interest in one another. I have said to myself that it is best, – that it is of God. Yet behold, I was this very minute selfishly dreading what you should say, and wishing that, like the storm, it might somehow blow by, leaving my good daughter with me, whom I shall, most likely, not see again." Then Llywareh was shaken in purpose, but for a moment only. "Do not say so," answered he. "If only you would all go with us!" Gwydion shook his head with mournful certainty. "But you are in the right as to Sanawg," said he. "We must part, and she must go. And what is to be done shall be done very quickly." [Page 240] So the next morning, with all due churchly ceremony, in mingled sorrow and rejoicing, they were wed, and forthwith set out on their journey toward Argoed, the whole fighting strength of her people riding with them until sundown. This better guidance greatly shortened the way, although the heaviness under hoof counted against them. Yet again, beside the best counsel at parting, they had now a single certain aim, and the impulsion of great need and urgency. Thus a trivial fraction of the time spent in wandering forth brought them to Loidis again.