Then Beltane sheathed his dagger and, in three long strides was close behind, and, stooping above the man, sought and found his hairy throat, and swung him, mighty-armed, that his head struck the wall; then Beltane, sighing, laid him upon the floor and turned toward a certain arras-hung arch: but, or ever his hand came upon this curtain, from beyond a voice hailed--a voice soft and musical.
"Hugo--O Hugo, spawn of hell, hither to me!"
Then Beltane, lifting the curtain, opened the door and, striding into the chamber beyond, closed and barred the door behind him, and so stood, tall and menacing, looking on one who sat at a table busied with pen and ink-horn. A slender man this, and richly habited: a sleepy-eyed man, pale of cheek, with long, down-curving nose, and mouth thin-lipped and masterful, who, presently lifting his head, stared up in amaze, sleepy-eyed no longer: for now, beholding Beltane the mighty, sheathed in mail from head to foot, the pen dropped from his fingers and his long pale hands slowly clenched themselves.
So, for a space, they fronted each other, speaking not, while eye met eye unswerving--the menacing blue and the challenging black, and, through the open casement near by came a ruddy glow that flickered on arras-hung wall and rugged roof-beam. Now raising his hand, Beltane pointed toward this glowing window.
"Sir Gui," quoth he, "Lord Seneschal of Belsaye town, thou hast good eyes--look now, and tell me what ye see."
"I see," said Sir Gui, stirring not, "I see a presumptuous knave--a dog who shall be flung headlong from the turret. Ha! Hugo!" he called, his black eyes yet unswerving, "O Hugo, son of the fiend, hither to me!"
"Trouble not, my lord," quoth Beltane gently, "behold, the door is barred: moreover, Hugo lieth without--pray God I have not killed him. But, as for thee--look yonder, use thine eyes and speak me what thou dost see."
But Sir Gui sat on, his thin lips upcurling to a smile, his black eyes unswerving: wherefore came Beltane and seized him in fierce hands and plucked him to his feet and so brought him to the window.
"Ha!" he cried, "look now and tell me what ye see. Speak! speak--for, God help me! now am I minded to kill thee here and now, unarmed though ye be, and cast thy carrion to the dogs--speak!"
Now, beholding the mail-clad face above him, the blue eyes aflame, the pale lips tight-drawn, Sir Gui, Seneschal of Belsaye, spake soft-voiced on this wise:
"I see my lord Duke's gallows go up in flame--wherefore men shall die!"
"Aye," sighed Beltane, "said I not thine eyes were good, Lord Seneschal? Now, use thine ears--hearken! 'Twas I and five others, men from beyond the marches, fired this night Black Ivo's gibbet, moreover, to-night also have we broke the dungeon that lieth beneath this thy keep, and set thy prisoners free--I and these five, all men from the north, mark me this well! This have we done for a sign and portent--ha! look!" and Beltane pointed of a sudden to where the great gallows, outlined against the night in seething flame, swayed to and fro, crumbled, and crashed to earth 'mid whirling sparks and flame, while, from the town below rose a murmur that swelled and swelled to a shout, and so was gone.
"Behold, lord Seneschal, Black Ivo's gallows to-night hath ceased to be: here is a sign, let those heed it that will. But for thee--this! To-night have I burned this gallows, to-night have I freed thy prisoners. Upon me therefore, and only me, be the penalty; for--mark me this, Seneschal!--spill but one drop of blood of these innocents of Belsaye, and, as God seeth me, so will I hunt thee down, and take thee and tear out thine eyes, and cut off thine hands, and drive thee forth to starve! And this do I swear by the honour of my father, Beltane the Strong, Duke of Pentavalon!"
But now, even as Sir Gui shrank back before the death in Beltane's look, amazed beyond all thought by his words, came a sudden shout, and thereafter a clash and ring of steel upon the stair without. And now, above the sudden din, hoarse and loud a battle-cry arose, at the sound of which Sir Gui's jaws hung agape, and he stood as one that doubts his ears; for 'twas a cry he had heard aforetime, long ago.
"Arise! Arise! I will arise!"
Then Beltane cast up the bar, and, plucking wide the door, beheld the broad, mail-clad back of one who held the narrow stair where flashed pike and gisarm.
"Roger!" he called, "Black Roger!"
"Aye, lord, 'tis I," cried Roger, parrying a pike-thrust, "make sure of thy work, master, I can hold these in check yet a while."
"My work is done, Roger. To me--to me, I say!"
So Roger, leaping back from the stair-head, turned about and ran to Beltane, stumbling and spattering blood as he came, whereupon Beltane clapped-to the door and barred it in the face of the pursuit. A while leaned Roger, panting, against the wall, then, beholding Sir Gui:
"How!" he cried, "lives the pale fox yet? Methought thy work was done, master!" So saying, he swung aloft his bloody sword, but, even as the Seneschal waited the blow, smiling of lip, Beltane caught Black Roger's wrist.
"Stay!" cried he, above the thunder of blows that shook the door, "would'st slay a man unarmed?"
"Aye, master, as he hath slain many a man ere now!" quoth Roger, striving to free his arm. "The door is giving, and there be many without: and, since to-night we must die, so let us slay the white fox first."
"Not so," said Beltane, "get you through the window--the river runs below: through the window--out, I say!" and, with the word, he stooped and bore Black Roger to the window.
"But, lord--"
"Jump!" cried Beltane, "jump, ere the door fall."
"But you, master--"
"Jump, I say: I will follow thee." So, groaning, Black Roger hurled his sword far out from the window, and leaping from the sill, was gone.
Then Beltane turned and looked upon Gui of Allerdale. "Seneschal," said he, "I who speak am he, who, an God so wills, shall be Duke of Pentavalon ere long: howbeit, I will keep my promise to thee, so aid me God!"
Thus saying, he mounted the window in his turn, and, even as the door splintered behind him, forced himself through, and, leaping wide, whirled over and over, down and down, and the sluggish river closed over him with a mighty splash; thereafter the placid waters went upon their way, bubbling here and there, and dimpling 'neath the waning moon.
CHAPTER XIV
HOW BELTANE CAME NIGH TO DEATH
Down went my Beltane, weighted in his heavy mail--down and ever down through a world of green that grew dark and ever more dark, until, within the pitchy gloom beneath him was a quaking slime that sucked viciously at foot and ankle. Desperately he fought and strove to rise, but ever the mud clung, and, lusty swimmer though he was, his triple mail bore him down.
And now his mighty muscles failed, lights flamed before his eyes, in his ears was a drone that grew to a rushing roar, his lungs seemed bursting, and the quaking ooze yearning to engulf him. Then my Beltane knew the bitter agony of coming death, and strove no more; but in that place of darkness and horror, a clammy something crawled upon his face, slipped down upon his helpless body, seized hold upon his belt and dragged at him fierce and strong; slowly, slowly the darkness thinned, grew lighter, and then--Ah, kind mercy of God! his staring eyes beheld the orbed moon, his famished lungs drank deep the sweet, cool air of night. And so he gasped, and gasping, strove feebly with arm and leg while ever the strong hand grasped at his girdle. And now he heard, faint and afar, a sound of voices, hands reached down and drew him up-- up to good, firm earth, and there, face down among