第72章 The Combat on the Bridge(2)

"Now if you conquer, Sir Wulf, or if your fall and your brother conquers, both of you--or one of you, as it may happen--must gallop back at full speed toward the stable gate that lies more than a mile from the castle bridge.Mounted as you are, no horse can keep pace with you, nor must you stop at the gate, but ride on, ride like the wind till you reach this place.The gardens will be empty of feasters and of cup-bearers, who with every soul within the city will have gathered on the walls and on the house-tops to see the fray.There is but one fear--by then a guard may be set before this mound, seeing that Salah-ed-din has declared war upon Al-je-bal, and though yonder road is known to few, it is a road, and sentries may watch here.If so, you must cut them down or be cut down, and bring your story to an end.Sir Godwin, here is another key that you may use if you are alone.

Take it."

He did so, and she continued:

"Now if both of you, or one of you, win through to this cave, enter with your horses, lock the door, bar it, and wait.It may be I will join you here with the princess But if I do not come by the dawn and you are not discovered and overwhelmed--which should not be, seeing that one man can hold that door against many--then know that the worst has happened, and fly to Salah-ed-din and tell him of this road, by which he may take vengeance upon his foe Sinan.Only then, I pray you, doubt not that I have done my best, who if I fail must die- most horribly.Now, farewell, until we meet again or--do not meet again.Go; you know the road."They turned to obey, but when they had gone a few paces Godwin looked round and saw Masouda watching them.The moonlight shone full upon her face, and by it he saw also that tears were running from her dark and tender eyes.Back he came again, and with him Wulf, for that sight drew them.Down he bent before her till his knee touched the ground, and, taking her hand, he kissed it, and said in his gentle voice:

"Henceforth through life, through death, we serve two ladies,"and what he did Wulf did also.

"Mayhap," she answered sadly; "two ladies--but one love."Then they went, and, creeping through the bushes to the path, wandered about awhile among the revellers and came to the guest-house safely.

Once more it was night, and high above the mountain fortress of Masyaf shone the full summer moon, lighting crag and tower as with some vast silver lamp.Forth from the guest-house gate rode the brethren, side by side upon their splendid steeds, and the moon-rays sparkled on their coats of mail, their polished bucklers, blazoned with the cognizance of a grinning skull, their close-fitting helms, and the points of the long, tough lances that had been given them.Round them rode their escort, while in front and behind went a mob of people.

The nation of the Assassins had thrown off its gloom this night, for the while it was no longer oppressed even by the fear of attack from Saladin, its mighty foe.To death it was accustomed;death was its watchword; death in many dreadful forms its daily bread.From the walls of Masyaf, day by day, fedais went out to murder this great one, or that great one, at the bidding of their lord Sinan.

For the most part they came not back again; they waited week by week, month by month, year by year, till the moment was ripe, then gave the poisoned cup or drove home the dagger, and escaped or were slain.Death waited them abroad, and if they failed, death waited them at home.Their dreadful caliph was himself a sword of death.At his will they hurled themselves from towers or from precipices; to satisfy his policy they sacrificed their wives and children.And their reward--in life, the drugged cup and voluptuous dreams; after it, as they believed, a still more voluptuous paradise.

All forms of human agony and doom were known to this people; but now they were promised an unfamiliar sight, that of Frankish knights slaying each other in single combat beneath the silent moon, tilting at full gallop upon a narrow place where many might hesitate to walk, and-- oh, joy!--falling perchance, horse and rider together, into the depths below.So they were happy, for to them this was a night of festival, to be followed by a morrow of still greater festival, when their sultan and their god took to himself this stranger beauty as a wife.Doubtless, too, he would soon weary of her, and they would be called together to see her cast from some topmost tower and hear her frail bones break on the cruel rocks below, or--as had happened to the last queen--to watch her writhe out her life in the pangs of poison upon a charge of sorcery.It was indeed a night of festival, a night filled full of promise of rich joys to come.

On rode the brethren, with stern, impassive faces, but wondering in their hearts whether they would live to see another dawn.The shouting crowd surged round them, breaking through the circle of their guards.A hand was thrust up to Godwin; in it was a letter, which he took and read by the bright moonlight.It was written in English, and brief:

"I cannot speak with you.God be with you both, my brothers, God and the spirit of my father.Strike home, Wulf, strike home, Godwin, and fear not for me who will guard myself.Conquer or die, and in life or death, await me.To-morrow, in the flesh, or in the spirit, we will talk-- Rosamund."Godwin handed the paper to Wulf, and, as he did so, saw that the guards had caught its bearer, a withered, grey-haired woman.They asked her some questions, but she shook her head.Then they cast her down, trampled the life out of her beneath their horses'

hoofs, and went on laughing.The mob laughed also.

"Tear that paper up," said Godwin.Wulf did so, saying: