While the duchess was hammering at the gong and screaming furiously for help, and while from the rooms below, where revelry was toward, came now the noise of answering cries and clamor, the arras that masked the door of the turret was dashed aside and Simon sprang into the room. From where he waited for Argathona, below in the shadow of the tower, the shrieking of the duchess had reached his ears, and he lost no time in leaping up the turret stairs to see what had happened. In a moment his eyes took in the scene--the blood-stained weapon on the floor, the duchess screaming and beating on the gong, the young Lord of Athens stretched his length in blood, and Argathona bowed in care above him. Simon sprang to her side.
"Heaven's pity, maiden," he ejaculated, anxiously. "How are you betrayed?"
Argathona looked up at him with calm, melancholy eyes.
"My love is wounded," she answered quietly, "and he has swooned from his fall, being still weakened by the onslaught in the wood, but there is no fear for him."
The dryad had to speak close into Simon's ear, for the continued calling of the duchess and the growing clamor in the now aroused palace made it hard for him to hear.
From her bosom she drew a handful of leaves, and pressed them into Simon's palms.
"These are leaves of the herb of healing," she whispered. "I have set some on his hurt to stop the blood. Renew them soon, bruise them in his drink, and he will be whole within a day. I think it may prove that I cannot wait here, so you must tend him."
"I have sworn to serve you and stay with you--" Simon began, but Argathona stopped him.
"You serve me best in serving him," she remonstrated, "and when he is hale you must bring him to me safe and sound in the greenwood."
Simon promised with his heart, and would have promised with his lips but there was no time to say more. The billows of sound in the palace had swelled to a mighty rush and trampling of feet, and in another instant the door was flung open, and many knights came into the room--Count Ernault, Sir Guy, Sir Jaufre, Fernand Ximenes, and others who had been tasting the duke's cheer.
"Who calls for help?" Count Ernault asked, looking around him in amazement.
The Duchess Esclaramonde was standing full height with her hands extended in appeal.
"I call for help," she cried. "Where is the Duke of Athens?"
Count Ernault sprang forward to where Rainouart lay with Argathona and Simon supporting him.
"What ails the prince?" he asked, and as Simon growled back, "The she-devil from Thebes has stabbed him," Ernault turned to the knights who were hot upon his heels and bade them keep back and let the prince have air. The gentlemen of Thebes among the throng separated themselves from the others and ranged themselves behind their duchess, questioning her and whispering together. Fernand Ximenes was already by her side.
"Fear nothing," he said, softly, "I am your friend," and then he stood apart, silent and watchful. Along the corridor came the thunder of heavy feet.
"Here is the duke," cried Jaufre de Brabant, and even as he spoke Duke Baldwin staggered into the room. He had been eating hugely, he had been drinking deeply, he was flushed with meat and wine, and furious at the interruption which had taken him from table. He glared around him like a baited bull, seeing little at first, for his eyes swam with the drink he carried and the confusion of the shifting lights.
"What is the matter?" he bellowed, his raging face turning from one to other of those about him. Then catching sight of his son upon the ground, and the duchess standing apart, and the blood-stained dagger upon the floor between them, he veered to her in a hot fury.
"Woman, what have you done?" he vociferated. Esclaramonde fell on her knees and stretched out her hands to him, but her voice was full of menace, though her words were words of entreaty.
"Justice, great duke," she shrilled, "justice on my false lord. Although he is your son, he is still your subject, and amenable to all the laws of chivalry and honor."
The duke moved upon the kneeling woman, lifting his great hands as if to strike her, whereat there was murmur among the Thebans and many hands set to sword-hilts.
"Woman, what have you done?" he asked again, and again she answered him defiantly, conscious of her backing, conscious of the neighborhood of Fernand Ximenes, conscious of the chivalry of the duke.
"Justice," she answered again, "justice on my false lord, who sought to drug my senses on my wedding night that he might entertain his paramour."
The duke stood instantly still, rigid as an image. "His paramour!" he echoed, glancing round the room, for to him, as to all the others, the only woman present was the Duchess of Esclaramonde herself, and by his son he only saw as all the others saw Simon the soldier of fortune and the young knight of Eleusis. The duke strode to where his son lay.
"Is my son dead?" he asked. Argathona, kneeling by Rainouart's seeming lifeless body, whispered to Count Ernault that he was little hurt, although stunned by his fall, and would soon recover, and Count Ernault, turning to the duke, repeated her message.
"Bear him to his chamber and summon my physician," the duke ordered, and in a moment the strong arms of the young prince's friends--Guy, Jaufre, Ambrose, and Raymond--lifted him unconscious from the floor and bore him to the adjoining room and laid him on the marriage bed. Then glaring round him with the face that all men feared who saw it so, Baldwin commanded:
"Tell me what has happened?"
Esclaramonde rose to her feet and pointed at Argathona, who was standing, now tranquil, with Simon by her side.
"That is a woman," she cried. "That cup contains the wine of sleep. It was poured that I might drink it and might sleep while he gave his false love the kisses due to me. But I was warned and did not drink, and when this woman came I stabbed him in her arms to avenge my honor."
Baldwin turned to Argathona.
"Are you a woman?" he asked, with wonder in his drunken voice. Argathona answered him calmly:
"I am no man, great duke."
The duke clinched and unclinched his great fists. He was sobering rapidly in his rage. "Are you my son's lover?" he questioned.
The dryad answered simply:
"I love him as a maid should love her bachelor, true heart and true soul, and he loved me ere he was stolen from me."
"Do not listen to her," Esclaramonde clamored; "she is a filthy witch and she has ensorcelled him."
Duke Baldwin lifted up his hand to command silence. Drunk or sober he was the master here. Whatever had happened he was the judge. If his son had sinned his son should suffer, but it was for Baldwin of the Rock to sit in judgment. Some dim memory of an ancient tale of Brutus, a Roman, troubled his muddled mind. While Esclaramonde was speaking, Fernand Ximenes had moved a little nearer to her and lightly touched her on the arm with a touch that meant reassurance, a touch that convinced her of a friend.
"Silence, lady," Baldwin ordered, not uncivilly; then he turned again to Argathona: "Boy, woman, witch," he demanded, "whatever you be, what is your story?"
Argathona answered him as tranquilly as if she were telling an old tale to old friends in the forest. Simon gaped in wonder at her, with his hand ever at the hilt of his sword to help her.
"Your son was wounded by robbers in the wood. I tended his hurt, and we changed loves and vows. While I went for healing herbs, in my absence this lady came and bore him to Athens, persuading his sick senses that it was she who had succored him."
The duke frowned horridly. "A strange tale!" he thundered. "A lying tale!" the duchess cried eagerly. Then Simon came forward and faced her, and in a clap she knew that he was the man that had escaped from her in the wood, and she went pale for an instant and caught her breath.
"It is a true tale, by your leave," Simon asserted, "for I was by from first to last."
The duke waved woman-interrupter and man-interrupter impatiently aside, and still addressed Argathona.
"How came you here?" he asked, and again the dryad answered him as calmly as if she had been singing a country-side song.
"In a boy's coat I came hither; in a man's mail I rode in the jousts, and afterwards wooed and won that lady with a golden apple to send her lord to sleep with a drowsy draught and welcome me as her lover to-night." She stooped and picked the apple up as she spoke.
The duke's grim frown grew grimmer. "Why did not my son drink?" he asked.
Argathona answered: "I warned him not to drink, but to make believe, for I wished him to know the worth of the woman he had wedded."
The face of the duke was an ugly sight to see, as he glanced from the slender girl in the boy's garb to the woman who had married his son that day and striven to murder him that night.
"This is a tangled tale," he snarled, "and some here are lying their way to hell at a hand-gallop, but this is no hour and this no mood for judgment."
He pawed at his forehead with his huge hands as he spoke, as if he hoped by physical effort to dispel the sudden troubles of the night. Then he turned to Esclaramonde:
"Lady," he said, "if it be proved that my son has wronged you, you shall have justice, for no man is son of mine who swerves in aught from his knightly fealty, but it may prove that you have slandered my son, in which case I shall deal justice upon you."
The duchess went pale anew at this threat, and those of her following standing near her made speed to ease their swords in their sheaths, seeing which act the partisans of Duke Baldwin did the like defiance. Fernand Ximenes sidled to the duchess and breathed quickly in her ear, "Defy him; I stand by you." And Esclaramonde chose defiance. With a bold and angry countenance she made a step towards the Duke of Athens.
"Baldwin of Athens," she said, haughtily, "I am a sovereign prince even as you are a sovereign prince, and you hold no right of judgment over your peers. I ride hence to-night, I and my people, and from this hour, in the name of my flouted womanhood, Thebes declares war upon Athens."
At this belligerent speech those of her company fell to drawing their swords and calling out "Thebes! Thebes!" furiously, while the huge duke grinned at them like a boar at bay.
"Are you so brave?" he raged--"then I begin the war by making you my prisoner. Count Ernault, your duty." And he looked fiercely at the lord-marshal as who should say, "Take this woman into your custody."
All was now in an uproar. The Theban knights were a line of lifted steel by the side of their lady, crying the name of their city, and behind Duke Baldwin the Athenian nobles shook their swords and hurled back their battle-cry of "Athens" against the "Thebes" of their antagonists. Argathona, standing apart, and for the moment forgotten, watched the turmoil with pitying eyes, and Simon beside her stared indifferent, resting upon his great sword.
To Duke Baldwin the Theban menace seemed meaningless; for he knew very well that the duchess had but a handful of knights and men-at-arms in her service within his city, and that he could crush them all at a blow as easily as dance handy-dandy. And indeed the menace would have been meaningless if the duchess had no more help to rely on to carry her out of Athens than the escort she had brought with her from Thebes. But it seemed that she had much more to rely on, for now beneath the angry arch of lifted blades Fernand Ximenes advanced slowly and addressed the duke.
"Magnificence," he began, blandly, smiling into the astonished face of Baldwin, "surely you wrong your honor if you attempt to restrain the departure of the Theban lady. She is, as she says, a sovereign prince, over whom you can claim no shade of vassalage."
This unexpected intervention amazed Duke Baldwin as much as if a miracle had taken place. Here was a leader of his hirelings, a man of the Catalan Grand Company, presuming to advise him, Baldwin of the Rock. He tried to speak, but the words choked in his throat, and he glared inarticulate at Fernand Ximenes, who went on with his speech in perfect composure.
"By my advice she shall be suffered to go free hence, as she came free hither, and if war ensues between Athens and Thebes thereafter, then may Heaven defend the one that best deserves the defence of Heaven."
As Fernand Ximenes ended his ambiguous speech, Duke Baldwin found his voice.
"You are over ready with unasked-for counsel," he shouted, "but here in Athens I follow my own rede."
"Surely, surely," Ximenes answered, with unchanged tranquillity of face and bearing, "a man can do no more, however big he be, and for my own part, little as I am, I can do no less. But I say my mind and in saying it I say the mind of the Catalan Grand Company."
As he spoke he drew his sword very softly from its scabbard, for all the world as if he were no more than curious to look upon its shining blade, and when it was naked in his hand he employed it to no other purpose than the tracing of imaginary lines upon the floor between him and the duke. But all his comrades of the company that were in the room drew their swords too, and ranged themselves with the fellowship of Esclaramonde of Thebes.
Duke Baldwin saw that he was trapped and baffled. He could not defy Ximenes out of hand, glad as he would have been to do so, for he knew that the games and festals had brought every man of the Catalan Grand Company into the capital, and that to provoke a conflict with their leader just then, however confident he might be of his superior forces and of the inevitable result, would be the very top of foolhardiness, while to start strife now in the crowded palace, where the opponents would be wellnigh man to man, would turn the place into a shambles. He made a great gulp of his discomfiture.
"Friend," he said to Ximenes, with a suddenly commanded dignity that well became his bulk, "you remind me betimes and wisely."
He turned from the enigmatical Spaniard and faced the duchess, paying her a grave salutation.
"Lady, Athens accepts your challenge. Go your way in peace till we meet again in war. Look to the walls of your city, for in a week they will need rebuilding."
He made her another reverence, throttling his choler, but Esclaramonde laughed at his anger and his gravity.
"Thebes has no fear of Athens, great duke," she answered, mockingly. He paid no heed to her, but, turning to Ernault, bade him see that the duchess and her people were suffered to quit the city unopposed. Ernault instantly left the room. The duchess smiled at him as he passed her, but she won no answering smile from his grave face. Esclaramonde made the duke a bow.
"We thank you for your reluctant courtesy," she sneered. Then, turning, she moved slowly from the room with her head high and a triumphant smile, followed by her Theban knights. Fernand Ximenes sheathed his sword, saluted the duke with changeless visage, and followed quietly in her wake. As he passed out his quick eye noted the pale face of one that stood on the fringe of Duke Baldwin's fellowship, gazing eagerly at him, so as without ever showing to attract his attention. The Catalan leader exchanged a glance with Demetrius of Epirus, and knew that Thebes had another adherent in the league against Athens. Ximenes was very well content to understand this, and Demetrius of Epirus was very well content to be understood. And so Ximenes went his way.
There was heavy silence in the room as the Theban party passed out, and the silence brooded over the room for a while as the footsteps of the seceders died away along the passages and down the stairs. Already, below in the great court-yard, could be heard faintly the bustle of men and horses where Count Ernault was taking orders for the departure of the Duchess of Thebes. The knights in the room sheathed their swords and stared into one another's faces, marvelling at these untoward events and the shifts of fortune. As for Duke Baldwin, he stood quite still for a little, stupid with fury to be thus bearded and deceived. But presently he remembered another enemy, and turned fiercely to Argathona as to one on whom he could safely ease his spleen.
"As for you," he shouted, "you woman out of a wood, who claim to love my son and to be loved by him, it seems very sure that you have by some manner of sorcery bewitched the boy, and to practise sorcery is to covet death in Athens. Wherefore I shall this now clap you into prison, and to-morrow will hand you over to Mother-Church, who will know best how to deal with a witch."
Simon made ready for the swinging of his great sword. Ere any one of them all should lay hands upon the damsel there would be a headless duke in Athens. But Argathona's face remained as changelessly grave as befits in danger one who claims a kinship with the high gods, and she spoke out loud and clear.
"Aliens of Athens, you live hateful lives, you live shameful lives, and my spirit is weary of you. I came a stranger into the ways of men, and I go hence very grateful to be stranger to their ways to the end. For you cannot hold me here against my will, and of my own will I come not again to your borders. Fear, for there is a curse upon you; fear, for you have polluted the beautiful city, and dreadful is the vengeance of the gods."
All the while she was speaking to the astounded hearers, a high wind seemed to be rising in the night, and even as she made an end of her speech, a great squalling gust rushed through the open window, and in a clap every torch and candle in the great room was puffed out, and for the space of a moment all was heavy blackness. When lights were found, and the room bright again, there was no sign nor trace of the girl from the greenwood who had fought in the lists as the Prince of Eleusis.
