Part 44 (1/2)
Acour stood before Murgh like a criminal before his judge.
”Man,” said the awful figure addressing him, ”where have you been and what have you done since last we spoke together in the midday dark at Venice?”
Now, dragged word by slow word from his unwilling lips, came the answer of the traitor's heart.
”I fled from the field at Venice because I feared this knight, and you, O Spirit of Death. I journeyed to Avignon, in France, and there strove to possess myself of yonder woman whom here in England, with the help of one Nicholas, I had wed, when she was foully drugged. I strove to possess myself of her by fraud and by violence. But some fate was against me. She and that aged priest bribed the knave whom I trusted. He caused a dead man and woman dressed in their garments to be borne from their lodging to the plague pit while they fled from Avignon disguised.”
Here for a moment Grey d.i.c.k paused from his labours at the grave and looked up at Hugh. Then he fell to them again, throwing out the peaty soil with both hands.
”My enemy and his familiar, for man he can scarcely be,” went on Acour, pointing first to Hugh and then to d.i.c.k, ”survived all my plans to kill them and instead killed those whom I had sent after them. I learned that the woman and the priest were not dead, but fled, and followed them, and after me came my enemy and his familiar. Twice we pa.s.sed each other on the road, once we slept in the same house. I knew them but they knew me not and the Fate which blinded me from them, saved them also from all my plots to bring them to their doom. The woman and the priest took s.h.i.+p to England, and I followed in another s.h.i.+p, being made mad with desire and with jealous rage, for there I knew my enemy would find and win her. In the darkness before this very dawn I overtook the woman and the priest at last and set my fellows on to kill the man. Myself I would strike no blow, fearing lest my death should come upon me, and so I should be robbed of her. But G.o.d fought with His aged servant who in his youth was the first of knights. He slew my men, then fled on with the woman, Eve of Clavering. I followed, knowing that he was sore wounded and must die, and that then the beauty which has lured me to shame and ruin would be mine, if only for an hour. I followed, and here at this place of evil omen, where first I saw my foe, I found _you_, O Incarnate Sword of Vengeance.”
Murgh unfolded his bare arms and lifted his head, which was sunk upon his breast.
”Your pardon,” he said gently, ”my name is Hand of Fate and not Sword of Vengeance. There is no vengeance save that which men work upon themselves. What fate may be and vengeance may be I know not fully, and none will ever know until they have pa.s.sed the Gateway of the G.o.ds.
Archer the grave is deep enough. Come forth now and let us learn who it is decreed shall fill it. Knights, the hour is at hand for you to finish that which you began at Crecy and at Venice.”
Hugh heard and drew his sword. Acour drew his sword also, then cried out, pointing to Grey d.i.c.k:
”Here be two against one. If I conquer he will shoot me with his bow.”
”Have no fear, Sir Thief and Liar,” hissed Grey d.i.c.k, ”for that shaft will not be needed. Slay the master if you can and go safe from the squire,” and he unstrung his black bow and hid it in its case.
Now Hugh stepped to where Red Eve stood, the wounded Sir Andrew leaning on her shoulder. Bending down he kissed her on the lips, saying:
”Soon, very soon, my sweet, whom I have lost and found again, you will be mine on earth, or I shall be yours in heaven. This, then, in greeting or farewell.”
”In greeting, beloved, not in farewell,” she answered as she kissed him back, ”for if you die, know that I follow hard upon your road. Yet I say that yonder grave was not dug for you.”
”Nay, not for you, son, not for you,” said Sir Andrew lifting his faint head. ”One fights for you whom you do not see, and against Him Satan and his servant cannot stand,” and letting fall the sword hilt he stretched out his thin hand and blessed him.
Now when Acour saw that embrace his jealous fury prevailed against his fears. With a curse upon his lips he leapt at Hugh and smote, thinking to take him unawares. But Hugh was watching, and sprang back, and then the fray began, if fray it can be called.
A wild joy s.h.i.+ning in his eyes, Hugh grasped his long sword with both hands and struck. So great was that blow that it bit through Acour's armour, beneath his right arm, deep into the flesh and sent him staggering back. Again he struck and wounded him in the shoulder; a third time and clove his helm so that the blood poured down into his eyes and blinded him.
Back reeled Acour, back to the very edge of the grave, and stood there swaying to and fro. At the sight of his helplessness Hugh's fury seemed to leave him. His lifted sword sank downward.
”Let G.o.d deal with you, knave,” he said, ”for I cannot.”
For a while there was silence. There they stood and stared at the smitten man waiting the end, whatever it might be. They all stared save Murgh, who fixed his stony eyes upon the sky.
Presently it came. The sword, falling from Acour's hand into the grave, rested there point upward. With a last effort he drew his dagger.
Das.h.i.+ng the blood from his eyes, he hurled it with all his dying strength, not at Hugh, but at Red Eve. Past her ear it hissed, severing a little tress of her long hair, which floated down on to the snow.
Then Acour threw his arms wide and fell backward--fell backward and vanished in the grave.
d.i.c.k ran to look. There he lay dead, pierced through back and bosom by the point of his own sword.
For one brief flash of time a black dove-shaped bird was seen hovering round the head of Murgh.