Robert Michael Ballantyne - The Hot Swamp

Maikar looked as if he were on the point of adding something to the conversation, but his thoughts seemed too deep for utterance, for he only sighed.

“Land us in yon creek,” said Bladud promptly. “It seems that I have not returned home a moment too soon. There, under the cliff—so.”

The skiff ran alongside of a ledge of rock as he spoke, and next moment the prince leaped upon the shores of his native land.

With a brief farewell to his old playmate, he turned, led his companions up the neighbouring cliff, and, plunging into the forest, set off at a pace which betrayed the urgency of his desire to reach home.

Although they travelled almost night and day, it took them the better part of two weeks to reach the river, on the banks of which King Hudibras’ chief town was built. They arrived at the eastern bank without mishap, and found that people were crowding over from the western side to attend some display or fête which was obviously going on there. Mingling with the crowd they went to the river’s edge, where numerous wooden canoes and coracles were busily engaged in ferrying the people over.

Approaching a man, whose apparel betokened him one of the poorer class, Bladud addressed him—

“Can you tell me, friend, what is going on here to-day?”

“Truly you must be a stranger if you know not, for every one—far and near—has heard of the wedding of our king’s pretty daughter.”

“Is she, then, married?” asked the prince, scarcely able to conceal his anxiety.

“Not yet, but she is to be married to-morrow—if no champion comes to claim her.”

“How? What mean you?”

“I mean what I say. Gunrig, the great chief whom she is to wed, is a proud and a stout man. Many chiefs have been courting the fair princess, and, in his pride of heart and strength, Gunrig has challenged any one to fight him in single combat, promising that the bride shall be given to the conqueror.”

“And does my—does the king agree to such a base proposal?”

“Well, he objected to it at first, but Gunrig is such a dangerous enemy, and his tribe so powerful, that the king has given in at last. Besides, he knows that the chief is so strong and big, and so well able to use his weapons, that none of the other chiefs are likely to venture a trial with him, or, if they do, they are sure to get the worst of it.”

“You don’t seem to like this Gunrig, I think.”

“No. I hate him. Everybody hates him; he is such a proud brute, but what can we do? when the king commands, all must obey. If I was as big and stout as you are,” added the man with a steady gaze at the prince, “I’d go at this fellow and win the fair princess myself.”

“Perchance I may have a try,” returned Bladud with a light laugh. “Does the princess hate him? and the queen?”

“Ay, worse than poison.”

“Come, let us go and see the sport,” said the prince to his companions, as he hurried away from the river. “You know our language well enough, I think, captain, to understand what has been said?”

“Ay, the most of it; and there is no doubt you are much wanted at this feast.”

In a few minutes our travellers arrived at the suburbs of the little town, which was embosomed among trees and green fields.

As hundreds of people had come in from all the country round, and some of them were Phoenician mariners from ships then in port, our three adventurers might not have attracted much attention, had it not been for the towering height, stalwart frame, and noble bearing of Bladud. As it was, people commented on them, bestowing looks of admiration particularly on the prince, but they did not address or molest them in any way—supposing, of course, that they had come from a distance to see the show; though many wondered that such a strapping fellow as the tall one could have come to the land without having been heard of.

“Perhaps he has only just arrived in one of the ships,” was the sagacious remark of one.

“But the ships have been here a long time, and we have seen all their crews,” was the comment of another.

On arriving at the scene of festivities, they found that an immense assemblage encircled the arena, in which a number of young men were competing in athletic sports. The captain and Maikar gently elbowed their way to the front, where they could see what was going on.

“I will remain in the back row where I can see well enough,” said Bladud. “Keep a look-out for me when you feel lost. I don’t mean to make myself known just yet.”

At the further end of the ground enclosed for the sports, a slightly raised platform had been prepared for the king and his household. The royal party ascended it soon after the travellers arrived, but the distance was too great to permit of faces being distinguished. Bladud could easily perceive, however, the tall form of his father, and the graceful figure of his mother, as they took their places, closely followed by the chief warriors. These, however, did not bring their women—that privilege being reserved for the household of the king only. Close behind the king and queen walked the young Princess Hafrydda. She was not only graceful, but beautiful, being very fair like her mother, with light-blue eyes like those of her brother Bladud; she had peach-bloom cheeks, and a brow of snow, save where her cap failed to protect it from the sun.

After the princess, and shrinking behind her as if to escape the gaze of the courtiers, or rather warriors, who crowded the platform, came a girl of about nineteen summers, the companion of Hafrydda. Branwen was a complete contrast to her friend in complexion. She was the daughter of a famous northern chief, and was quite as beautiful as the princess, while her jet-black eyes and curly brown hair gave more of force and character to features which were delicately moulded.

There was reason for poor Branwen’s desire to escape observation, for the proud Gunrig was paying her attentions which were far too pointed and familiar in one who was about to marry the king’s daughter. Indeed, it was whispered that he had changed his mind since he had seen Branwen, and would have even resigned the princess in her favour, if he had dared to offer such an affront to the king.

Hudibras himself was the last to ascend the platform. He was a fine-looking, portly man, with a great shock of black hair, a long beard, and limbs so well proportioned that he did not seem taller than other men until he stood beside them. He was a worthy sire of such a son as Bladud, though three inches shorter.

There was a sort of barbaric splendour in the costumes of both men and women, combined with some degree of graceful simplicity. The king was clothed in a softly-dressed deer-skin jacket, over which he wore a wolf-skin with the hair outside. A tunic of purple cotton, brought by Phoenician ships from the far East, covered him as far down as the knees, which were bare, while his lower limbs were swathed in strips of scarlet cloth. Leather sandals, resembling those made by Bladud while in Gaul, protected his feet. No crown or other token of royalty rested on his brow, but over his dark and grizzled locks he wore a species of leather skull-cap which, being exceeding tough, served the purpose of a helmet. On his breast was a profusion of ornaments in the form of beads and bosses of gold and tin, the former of which had been brought from the East, the latter from the mines of his native land. A bronze sword with an ivory sheath, inlaid with gold, hung at his left side, and a knife of the same material at his right. Altogether King Hudibras, being broad and strong in proportion to his height, presented a very regal appearance indeed, and bore himself with becoming dignity. He had married the daughter of a Norse Jarl; and his two children, Bladud and Hafrydda, had taken after their gentle mother in complexion and disposition, though they were not altogether destitute of a sub-current of their father’s passionate nature.