Part 3 (1/2)

Two bullocks of equal strength avoid and fear each other, and do not lock horns.”

Feeling humiliated at hearing it said of them, and before a stranger, that they did not fight together because they were mutually afraid of each other, Julyan and Armel grew red in the face.

With sparkling eyes, Julyan cried: ”If I did not fight with Armel it was because someone else took my place; but Julyan fears Armel as little as Armel fears Julyan; and if you were but one inch taller, Stumpy, I would show you on the spot that, beginning with you, I fear n.o.body--not even my good brother Armel--”

”Good brother Julyan!” added Armel whose eyes also began to glisten, ”we shall have to prove to the stranger that we do not fear each other.”

”Done, Armel--let's fight with sabres and bucklers.”

The two friends reached out their hands to each other and pressed them warmly. They entertained no rancor for each other; they loved each other as warmly as ever; the combat decided upon by them was a not uncommon outbreak of foolhardiness.

Joel was not sorry at seeing his kin act bravely before his guest; and his family shared his views.

At the announcement of the battle, everybody present, even the little children and young women and girls felt joyful; they clapped their hands smiling and looked at each other proud of the good opinion that the unknown visitor was to form of the courage of their family.

Mamm' Margarid thereupon addressed the young men: ”The fight ends the moment I lower my distaff.”

”These children are feasting you at their best, friend guest,” said Joel to the stranger; ”you will, in turn, have to feast them by telling them and all of us some of the marvelous things that you have seen in your travels.”

”I could not do else than pay in my best coin for your hospitality, friend,” answered the stranger. ”I shall tell you the stories.”

”Let's hurry, brother Julyan,” said Armel; ”I have a strong desire to hear the traveler. I can never get tired of listening to stories, but the story-tellers are rare around Karnak.”

”You see, friend,” said Joel, ”with what impatience your stories are awaited. But before starting, and so as to give you strength, you shall presently drink to the victor with good wine of Gaul,” and turning to his son: ”Guilhern, fetch in the little keg of white wine from Beziers that your brother Albinik brought us on his last trip; fill up the cup in honor of the traveler.”

When that was done, Joel said to Julyan and Armel:

”Now, boys, fall to with your sabres!”

CHAPTER III.

ARMEL AND JULYAN.

The numerous family of Joel, gathered in a semi-circle at one end of the s.p.a.cious hall, impatiently awaited the combat, with Mamm' Margarid holding the place of honor. The stranger stood at her right, her husband at her left, and two of the smallest children before her on their knees.

Margarid raised her distaff and gave the signal for the combat to begin; the lowering of the distaff was to be the signal for the combat to end.

Julyan and Armel stripped down to the waist, preserving their breeches only. Again they clasped hands. Each thereupon slung on his left arm a buckler of wood covered with seal-skin, armed himself with a heavy sabre of copper, and impetuously a.s.sailed each other, being all the more spurred by the presence of the stranger, before whom they were eager to display their skill and valor. Joel's guest looked more highly delighted than anyone else at the spectacle before him, and his face lighted with warlike animation.

Julyan and Armel were at it. Their eyes sparkled, not with hatred but with foolhardiness. They exchanged no words of anger but of friendly cheer, all the while dealing out terrible blows that would have been deadly had they not been skillfully parried. At every thrust, brilliantly made, or dexterously avoided, the men, women and children in the audience clapped their hands, and according as the combat ran, cried:

”_Her_ ... _her_ ... Julyan!”

”_Her_ ... _her_ ... Armel!”

Such was the effect of these cries, of the sight of the combat, of the clash of arms, that the huge mastiff Deber-Trud, the man-eater, felt the ardor of battle seize also himself, and barked wildly looking up at his master, who calmed and caressed him with his hand.

Perspiration covered the young bodies of the handsome and robust Julyan and Armel. Each other's peers in courage, vigor and agility, neither had yet wounded the other.