William H. Babcock - Cian of the Chariots - Chapter XXXIII: How Arthur and Cian Raised the Stone lyrics

CHAPTER XXXIII. HOW ARTHUR AND CIAN RAISED THE SIEGE. For the terror of d**h from the base men of Lloegyn I will not tarnish my honor. – ANEURIN. BUT Cian took no rest. Through the night he paced uneasily among his men, or tossed himself down, to rise again, or sat bitterly. Aurelia's waking moments were also of disquiet and foreboding, so that she half wished the city of London left with the foe still about it, and no rescue. For what had come to pa** was portentous, with great upheaval in it of men's faith and human ties. Not the most philosophic mind could face it unshaken. In the new daylight her mind was clearer. The act of the Emperor was done beyond all undoing. She had no better liking for it than at first; yet destruction had not fallen, and there was no course but to go forward. Toward Cian she was in displeasure, trusting that he would yet do his part, and striving to weigh duly in his behalf the affront which had so stirred him. [Page 310] Word was brought her of a very great muster by Arthur eastward of the town, presaging some enterprise against the enemy. It slighted her that she should in no way have been called on. After breakfasting, she rode forth duly attended. Arthur was already far beyond the Wallbrook, where the troops of the north and west were gathering to him. But as she went she saw many of her own fighting-men yet at their posts, with eyes that held more than her own unrest. But when Arthur, the Emperor, had sight of her, he rode very decorously thither. She watched his coming with curious interest. Reliance grew within her on this power among men, who feared not anything, even the most sacred. She found in his poise and air something of the warrior archangel. At least there was exaltation in his eye. Yet surely even a champion of heaven, while abiding among men, should not ride rough-shod over their hope and adoration. "I had not thought the Queen of London would be abroad so early," he said. "May we look also for some of her people?" "Our Emperor knows they are all his to command," replied she. Arthur reined his steed around beside her, and they rode on together. "Your Emperor," he responded gravely, "has never acted from his own will only, without regard- [Page 311] ing those between, unless on the highest compulsion, or in the greatest need." She held an obedient face, bowing gently. He resumed: – "This time there was no such urgence: My old friend Cian kept aloof. I could not know how you might feel. We had no need of the unwilling, with so many of us already, and this." He bent his brow toward the shield. "Yet the Saxons are many," she said gravely. It was indeed a spectacle. Their host, great already, had swollen immensely during the night by the increment of many small parties hurriedly called in. By far the greater number were afoot. They did not cover the ground evenly, but in neighboring bodies, larger or smaller – with every chieftain the men who had followed him to the war. A continual hum came from them, as of readiness for the wrestling of spears. . "There will be less of them when all is over," answered the Emperor; and his men who heard, for they were near now, cried out eagerly, after the manner of the day. That sound of grim rejoicing went along the lines and throughout the great ma** of soldiery – greater still in seeming for the number of those who were mounted. Only London levies who had been with Vortimer at first kept an over-shadowed air; but, as their queen openly smiled on [Page 312] them from beside the Emperor, these responded with a very especial acclaim. It cheered and fortified her. She gazed at Arthur with a certain deep wistfulness, hardly daring. "Does it not show the better way to their zeal and aid?" she said at last. Arthur bowed courteously, but as yielding nothing. "Prince Cian is deeply grieved," she added gently. Now, indeed, there came a touch of resentment in Arthur's pure, strong face. "Cian defended you well," he said, "and for that and old service much may be pa**ed by. Yet he carries it far. One might fancy him an enemy. Let him stay. The cause of God needs no reluctant aid." She bowed in deference rather than conviction. "But at least my father shall lead some of my people to the fight, if you will spare him," she said. "We grudge nothing, if we do not approve all things – even in the highest." The Emperor knew it was her last rebuke. He bowed low to her womanliness, but offered no defence. When he made answer, it was to her earlier words only. "They will be welcome. They shall be first over the bridge." As they rode back before the army, Aurelia could not fail to notice how – for all his rapt loftiness – he bore the new splendor of his shield ever in the sun. Moreover, the gathering, and the movement, [Page 313] and the going and coming again by one road, all seemed part of the vaunting pictorial fancy of his race. Constantine being already in the forum, and a**ault resolved on forthwith, a galloping messenger was despatched him, with word to set men at breaking down the barricades that had long blocked the bridge. Almost, before Aurelia entered the town, a great crashing and splintering had begun. She had looked for interference from the Saxon outposts by the riverside; but, after one undecided movement, these gave no sign. They even drew off a little, so as to leave open space for some part of Arthur's army, but thickened continually behind the curved front thus acquired. Within the city she discerned a shifting of men, and judged that Arthur was putting forward those who were best able to give and take in hard hand-play against odds, until re-enforcements should reach them. But some of her own were still in the van. She looked from time to time toward the guardtower of the northern gate, where stood a group watching, with the chariots ranged below. All ready, but for what? The question made her blush in anger and in shame. Should she send again to entreat – another slight? Or command – with possible conflict of wills, and contingencies not to be thought on? Hemmed about and strained, she waited, think- [Page 314] ing, "Surely now he will come, or now, or now." At last, while looking riverward, an exclamation beside her recalled her eyes; and she clasped her hands, with a low, pleased cry, as she saw that the tower-roof was vacant. At the same time a stir ran through the waiting troops of every arm near that tower. Then the light left her face, and a low moan escaped her. For they were not coming, but going out through the gateway, Cian and the chariots foremost. The bright face of her hope seemed smitten with enduring blackness. On a tablet she hastily wrote for Arthur: "Prince Clan has fled. His chariots and men are lost to you." She heard sounds of surprise from both armies; of jeering also from the one, of angered mortification from the other. With set teeth and lips, she watched, now the bridge, gradually clearing of obstruction, now the causeway through the northern marshes, along which the glittering thread of spears and wheels and men in armor crawled steadily. Surely, she thought, now he will turn, or now; then she chided her silliness, for undoubtedly, if he had meant at all to fight about the bridge, he would have taken the direct course thereto. The last hope left her, as she saw them keep straight on, unwavering, across the marsh and the open land, into the woods. Ah, [Page 315] Cian had robbed her of the best of London, and made it a by-word for all time! She was half in mind to hurry after, with unmistakable commands, and the will, at any cost, to be obeyed. On the brink of this came Arthur's answer: "Whatever Cian may purpose, be sure it is not to play the coward. This from his Emperor and old-time comrade, who little loves his later moods and ways." She grew genial under that, with sudden self-blame and thankfulness to the Emperor. How could she have been the first to give way in trust, and to need a**urance from another? How far, too, had she failed in comprehending "the magnanimous Arthur!" Here were two men, the foremost of their time, who had so ordered some part of their conduct that a very friendly woman, meaning to be just and generous, had half despised them. Certainly the Emperor was not at his noblest as a desecrator of the grave. Certainly Prince Cian could not yearn to be depicted as withdrawing through the farthest gate while his comrades marched into danger. For the moment she felt like giving up all comprehension of the s**, but rested in the consoling sense that somehow all was well, though details might be bettered. But now her father, well pleased at this break in his commonplace duties, and looking all that he ever had thought of himself, rode over the opened bridge [Page 316] at the head of his men. No chance for indecision here, nor conflicting wills, but only those of the enemy, whom he had no thought to shun. His fellow-townsmen, even those who had hated him and contended with him, were all proud of their chief Roman now. He went slowly, his horsemen spreading like a fan over the low open ground beyond the river, to cover the exit from the bridge. Llywarch followed with chosen men of the north, a goodly company, turning up the river, where Constantine made room for him. Next Lancelot in like manner, fronted down-stream, with the men of the west. Then Arthur himself, with a greater body, drawn from all quarters, pushed these three forward nearly to the Saxon front, and formed a denser demi-belt behind them. It left indeed but room for one legion of foot, who came swiftly across to guard the bridge-head, making living bu*tresses on either side, with a narrow lane between for re-enforcements. The Saxons were swaying now, with the word of onset almost at tongue and ear. It was not Arthur's will that this word should be given. He rose full height in the stirrups, holding his consecrated shield with both hands above his head, and flashed it for a signal to Llywarch, to Constantine, to Lancelot. As it swept round the curve, the Saxons received its scintillation in their dazzled eyes, with some wild ex- [Page 317] pectancy of magic. Before they had quite regained themselves, the outer line of Britons, with loud cries, had spurred in among them everywhere, spearing and slashing. A few moments later Arthur and his main body of horsemen charged, with greater impetus, in the wake of Constantine. He well knew that the chief endeavor of the enemy would be to cut him off by striking in crosswise near the bridge. But he meant they should gain nothing by this; and before him he saw the father of Aurelia – whom but for Guinevere he might have sought as his bride – in great urgency of peril. For in this supreme moment Constantine was rushing onward among the enemy as man never went. All disparagement of the past, all baffled self-esteem, rose before him; the inspiration of blood, of lineage, the memory of the white d**h-charge of Aurelius Ambrosius, hurled him on. At last he was to justify all that he had held himself to be, or die, as Ambrose died, amid the lasting plaudits of the world. So he rode down and smote down, breaking through dense ma**es on his powerful stallion, taking spear-point after spear-point harmlessly on shield and mail, keeping right on, though slanting leftward unwittingly, with no eye for anything but the swift work he had to do. His men, plying desperately to keep the pace, were still left stringing behind one by one, or in little [Page 318] fighting knots among their enemies. They joined Arthur as he swept on, keeping his own ranks well together, and scattering the hostile froth before him. But Constantine was beyond their aid. Four times Arthur saw the Roman spear-stricken and all but hurled from the saddle; then, since the end was near, he, shouting with might and main, the j**elled Queen of Heaven burning on his arm, and a hundred devoted fighting men hammering close behind, came side by side with the dying Constantine, and the struggle around them was deadly. Packed in the press of friends and enemies, Constantine rode upright in armor manfully out of life. When the inburst of British men scattered the ma**, and freed them, it was but a corpse in armor that Arthur caught a moment by the shoulder, as it fell crashing. In his own peril he had no choice but to let it be. He was now, though with many wounded men, in a great expanse of hostile infantry. But the slanting chase had led him toward the side of Lancelot, though much farther afield; and by the shouting he judged this prince, with his mountain men, to be retarded by great odds, but working in resolutely. Arthur turned thither with weight and fury, his men all striving as if on the one road to life. A tongue of the Saxon army, caught thus between hammer and anvil, was sorely worsted and broken. [Page 319] Lancelot had been strengthened already by a part of the footmen from the bridge, or he would have been driven back before this in spite of all. Arthur and he together strenuously cleared away their closest a**ailants at the sides and rear; then swept over the ground which Constantine had held, to the relief of Llywarch. They did not find him so hard pressed as they had feared. For some reason the weight of Saxondom in front of him had been less than elsewhere; and Caowl, with a mixed body of re-enforcements flowing thinly over the bridge, had given him nearly all their aid. In his cheery, indomitable way, the Prince of Argoed, as always, had made a fine fight of it, penetrating far, and at the last falling back slowly with no ruinous loss of men. Everywhere around the space left for the Britons, the Saxon attack had been forestalled, the Saxon front badly broken. Lancelot returned to his place again, Arthur to that of Constantine. All busied themselves in quick dashes to keep a wider space open, that there might be room for new men as they came. On their steady coming success depended; for the Saxons were not really shattered, except the mere face of them, and must press overpoweringly. Eschwine saw this also. Hitherto he had held slightly aloof, hoping little from the first clashes, and watchful to deal some telling blow. He now [Page 320] pushed his archers along the river's edge from above, toward the bridge, under cover of a moving spearhedge, while simultaneously he made a distracting onset elsewhere. Only a few minutes earlier some of Aurelia's people had found three chariots left behind by Cian as not perfect and strong. Externally they had the formidable look of their tribe, bright bronzework, seemly woodwork, scythe-like blades of long reach – great rushing engines of war every way to be desired. The queen joined in the welcome which greeted them, and hurried them forward. So, with untrained horses, and hiding fatal weakness under a show of bravery, they rattled and rumbled forward into the line of fire. So fair a target was not easily to be missed. At the middle of the bridge a flight of flaming arrows took them. Streaks of flaring, smoke-billowing tow struck across the horses' nostrils; keen things, they knew not what, burnt their hides or pierced them. They reared and twisted this way and that; and the faulty vehicles were broken and splintered and locked together, barricading the way with a jagged, hopeless entanglement. The impatient horsemen following, themselves galled and disordered by missiles, pressed vehemently up, with the sound of fighting for a lure, and the impetus of the long column behind to bear them on. Presently there was but a writhing and [Page 321] dangerous ma**, overflowing with great splashes into the water on either side, until the bridge groaned under it; and still the barrier grew. Arthur saw the peril at hand. From the first he had known this risk, if any risk there could be to one who bore the sure guaranty of Heaven. His open war on Vran had left him no choice but to cross and right himself in all eyes by victory. He saw the whole field now with clear vision and constant mind, – Aurelia hastening down the White Hill toward the bridge; Llywarch and his cohorts dashing at the spearsmen and archers; Eschwine coming straight at himself with a front of horsemen and a great leaping crew of long-haired Saxon foot. Sending word that the men on the bridge and at its nearer end should follow Llywarch, he also charged forward, with all about him. Midway, as he most desired, Arthur met Eschwine; met him without a word, but a swift-swaying quiver of his long spear that smote aside the lance of the Saxon, caught him at the shoulder, between the plates of bronze, and twisted him backward. One second Eschwine clung, with a face of fury and torment, then fell. Arthur went on vehemently, and many more rode likewise over the fallen man. After the battle Eschwine's body was dragged from a little runnel into which he had crawled for shelter, the dints of shod hoofs in spine [Page 322] and skull showing how he had met with an inglorious end. His fall and the continued rush of the Britons did not at once turn the Saxon tide. For a time there were two counter torrents of men – one driving on with the plunging of mailed horses, with spears down-thrust and forward, with the smiting of sword-blades and axes; the other bounding like acrobats, upstriking and indriving, thrusting reckless hands throat-ward to drag their enemies down, or, even when wounded and brought to pause, dealing their blows every way until overridden and laid in the dust. Even Arthur felt the jar of more blades than one behind the sacred shield. His spear was dragged from him by a sea-rover whom it had transfixed. Nearly following it out of the saddle, he was glad enough to let it go, and snatch his sword for defence against other a**ailants then around him. A little way farther, and he found that the movement was British alone. A long wedge of them spread back from him, keeping on and holding together far better than their opponents. Quickening pace with a shout, he found the resistance giving way, and presently the Saxons were fleeing before him, except a few knots of men, who fought on very determinedly, and were shattered or left behind as might happen. At last he drove a reluctant, half-hesitating crew before him into open ground. [Page 323] Halting here, while his men poured through after him and fell into better trim for charging again, he saw that only a lesser part of the Saxons, after all, had been routed. The great body behind him had nearly closed again, facing about with a good will toward further encounter. Far to the right Lancelot was cutting his way slowly into a forest of opponents; while on the left, as slowly, Llywarch fell back before overpowering forces. He turned anxiously to the bridge, and there was indeed some sign of opening; but would even the first beginning of aid come in time? Up the river there was a stir of dust and moving forms, not yet visible to the Saxons, who, besides, were busy. It made him think of Cian longingly, but that was too good to be true. He charged back to the bridge-head, fighting hard with greater loss than before in less time. As he faced about again, the Saxons were there still, all together, and beginning to come on with firm feet and faces. Lancelot and Llywarch joined him soon, the enemy pressing close on them from every side. Then, over a hill beyond them rose a hurrying chariot, then another; and presently a whole line of such were in view. The sun burned on the well-remembered golden vest. "Cian, Cian!" cried the Britons all together, from riverside and bridge and all the roofs of the city. The Saxons gave a cry of [Page 324] consternation, ending in defiance, and a part of them turned about toward the new a**ailants. About the same time the tangle of woodwork and ironwork was hurled from the bridge, and men began to come over. Where Cian struck, the ma** of the Saxons was densest, facing both ways formidably, for all their surprise. A few archers, whom Llywarch had driven to the rear, let fly with effect at their new kind of a**ailants. Cian himself was an especial mark, his charioteer receiving an arrow through the arm, while he heard another vehicle crashing over behind him. But his own kept on, though waveringly, and nearly all that followed struck and cut into the great ma** of men before them. The chariot, as an unreasonable means of destruction, was the one thing that shook the Saxon before it touched him. To this bounding, swerving, onward hurling contrivance of steeds and wheels and fighting-men and body-severing blades he could by no means become reconciled. Even before Cian reached his enemies, he had known by their eyes that they would not long bear the onset. And now, as he felt them yielding every way, he heard the cheery cry of Llywarch vehemently coming toward him; while a wider, wilder swell of voices, prolonged over the now thronging bridge to the London shore, told of a great onrush of Arthur and his shield divine. [Page 325] Yet some of the enemy were packed between these opposite charges, holding the ground perforce, and lessening their momentum. So it was not without hard fighting that the old friends, Cian and Llywarch, met. Even afterward the Saxon infantry, cut off on the side toward the river shore, made terrible efforts to break through, and join their main body. Over, under, and between the chariots, a part of them succeeded. Turning on this great remainder, the comrade princes tore into it with momently increasing numbers, until they had it bodily in motion. But ever the great Emperor, shield on arm, kept his place far before them, with a comet-like trail of mailed riders. Once he was cut off, and near destruction. A great throng, reeling from the a**ault of Llywarch farther to the right, broke across behind him, and hardened into a living wall at sight of their great opportunity; then it came furiously upon the few cohorts thus cut off, knowing they had but little time. Again the chariots came in play, though not too soon, and corners were lapped from the wall, and lanes cut in, until at last Llywarch's horsemen could carve a way through. So Arthur speedily was free again, and hastening on, but with the best of his men in greater ma** near him. Their spreading front bore back the Saxons over the open land. Thus, in wave on wave of dashing onset, he drove [Page 326] them until nightfall; and ever they resisted, seizing new foothold and fighting well; but their resistance grew less. When darknesss fell Arthur turned about to ride through a country filled with scattered and hopeless enemies, knowing that there was, at most, only a small remnant of the once great Saxon army floating on before its vanguard toward the sea. He had lost many men and some notable chieftains; among others, Caowl, who fell in charging a rough wedge of the West Kent men half-way to the Cray. On Arthur's own body, for all its constant exposure, there was no wound. Good armor might count for much in this; rapidity of motion, sk**, and audacity, for more. But he looked on the holy face that brightened his shield, and gave all the glory there. It was Mary, Queen of Heaven, he averred, who had saved him, and won the victory. Now, this was well-nigh insufferable to Cian; to Tigernach, openly and wholly so. Were there no living men who had come vehemently to his aid when his need was very sore? What would have befallen him, shield or no shield, but for that first rush of the chariots? It was too much that they should be called upon to join in the aggrandizement of a new faith, which frowned on their own. Arthur had forgiven Cian his first irresolution, in view of the great amends made by later service; and Cian, having rendered this, could not withhold his [Page 327] good will also. But the wound in either nature was thinly healed. The pious vaunting of the Emperor soon made it sore again. Tigernach brought open dissension by some rash utterance that awoke Arthur's horror. Laying hand to sword, he bade, "Cease blaspheming!" Tigernach glanced back defiantly. "But for `blasphemers' yon woman-faced shield might have gone to work magic for the Cantwara. Thus much will I dare to say, though it cost me d**h from an ingrate." He cried it aloud, hotly and defiantly, and, turning aside, made off at good speed toward his native Andred. Arthur half raised his hand to order pursuit, then lowered it, wrestling with his anger. "There is no need," said he. "Who can harm Our Lady? And I would not return evil for good." "Somewhat of that," said Cian, "has been done already, when praise is given where it belongs not, and withheld where it is due; when old friends are driven to the hills, angered, with no need." Arthur's face grew stormy. "Prince Cian is speaking more in wilfulness than in duty," said he. "Moreover, tales are abroad that link him all too nearly to the dealers in darkness." Cian stiffened in the saddle, – for he had left his chariot broken, – with lowering brow. "I know of [Page 328] no darker dealing than the desecration of the tomb," said he. The voice of Arthur seemed struggling in his throat for a moment; then abruptly he made a gesture of dismissal. Cian bade adieu gravely, and rode with furious heart toward the bridge. For once there should be no question as to full obedience. "Go" – ay, at a sweep, to his own far northern hills, and as fast as his good horse might carry him. Forthwith he sent a swift rider after Tigernach, who overtook him by dawn at Verulam. But, as they rode, Cian thought painfully of the queen, Aurelia, and how he had left her in her sorrow without a word, and to whom the welcome task of consoling her would now fall. Truly, in her bereavement, she had found it hard to miss that strength whereon she had learned to lean through the long leaguer of the city. With all her gratitude to Arthur, a vacant place remained unfilled. But Cian's prophetic power, whether fancied or real, could not show him this clearly for comfort. Meanwhile the country of West Kent as far as the Medway had been swept of Saxons, even husbandmen. At first Arthur was minded to push yet farther, bearing the long-settled fighting-men of Kent quite to their ancient stronghold of Thanet. But this was not to be done without sieges and losses [Page 329] and much suffering to those who dwelt quietly. Moreover, the day had been set for his nuptials with Guinevere at Caerleon; and such undertaking might give them long delay. But the savage Ess** folk were driven wholly from the mainland, holding only some walled islets off that coast.