Barbarossa; An Historical Novel of the XII Century.. Conrad von Bolanden

Barbarossa; An Historical Novel of the XII Century. - Conrad von Bolanden


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neglected the golden opportunity! Milan, the bulwark of Alexander's power, was in your hands; you should have levelled her to the ground!"

      "Always ready, my lord, to tell me what should have been done! Why was not this advice offered sooner?"

      "It is not yet too late," replied Rinaldo. "The German bands have passed the Alps; let their first exploit be the capture of Milan."

      "Naturally; and their second?"

      "The overthrow of the present status of Italy, and the installation of Victor at Rome."

      "And then the heretic Barbarossa, the persecutor of the Holy Church, will be put under the ban of the Universe!" replied Frederic, with a bitter laugh.

      "Heretic? No! But the astonished world will hail in you the worthy rival of the great Emperor. What did Charlemagne, and Otho, and Henry III. do? Did they not give Rome to the Popes? And if you, their successor, should place in Rome a bishop of your own selection, who could dispute your authority? Act, break down all opposition, and the Papacy, henceforward, will be no more the enemy, but the obedient vassal of the Germanic Empire." Whilst Rinaldo spoke, Barbarossa seemed lost in thought; every word of the crafty statesman produced its effect, for it answered the ambitious cravings of his own nature, which had long aimed at the subjection of the spiritual to the temporal power. Could his dreams be realized, the Emperor would reign supreme, and the Church, shorn of all her prerogatives, would remain, as she had existed during the dark ages, the source of all faith, but a mere fief of the Empire.

      The difficulties of the undertaking did not escape him, but far from causing discouragement, they pleased him the more, by their bold and hazardous originality. Rinaldo, in silence, with folded arms and down-cast eyes, watched narrowly the effect produced on the Emperor by his discourse.

      Suddenly Otho of Wittelsbach advanced hurriedly.

      CHAPTER IV.

      THE BATTLE

      "Bad news! Sire," cried the Count Palatine. "Cinola, your strong fortress on the Adda, is in the hands of the enemy."

      Barbarossa sprang to his feet, and gazed with surprise upon the Count.

      "Cinola taken!" cried he angrily, – "when-by whom?"

      "To-day, by the Milanese; but here is a man who will give full details to your Majesty."

      And he pointed to a soldier who, until then, had stood at a short distance from the group.

      "Ah! is that you, Gero?" said Frederic, whose extraordinary memory never forgot a name or a face. "Tell me at once, everything!"

      "The tidings which I bring to your Majesty are most unfortunate. Cinola was, this morning, surrendered to the Milanese."

      "Surrendered?" said the Emperor, angrily.

      "Yes, Sire, – surrendered by the base Guelph, the traitor Bonello, to whom your Majesty had intrusted the command of the fortress."

      The face of the Emperor grew black with rage.

      "What is the strength of the Milanese?" he asked.

      "About three hundred men."

      "Have they burned the Castle?"

      "I am ignorant of that fact, Sire! As soon as the banner of the Guelphs was hoisted over the citadel, I hastened hither. But some time must elapse before they can sack and burn the place, as their first visit will doubtless be to the wine-cellars."

      "How many Germans were with you in the Castle?"

      "Three and a half, your Majesty, – for one of them had lost a leg. Poor fellows! they are in a pitiable condition, for their lives are in danger!"

      "Gentlemen," said the Emperor to his knights, who were grouped around him, "we must not lose an instant; this new outrage must be punished at once!"

      The knights looked at each other with astonishment; and even the daring Otho shook his head.

      "Sire!" said he, "the Guelphs are too much our superiors in numbers."

      "Since when has the Count Otho learned to count his foes?" inquired the Emperor.

      "But," observed the Chancellor, whom the sudden resolution of the Emperor had alarmed, "would it not be more prudent to await the arrival of the German troops?"

      "No! the punishment should always follow closely upon the crime. What! these traitors have dared to lay their plans under my very eyes, and yet you speak of waiting! – It would be a public admission of our weakness."

      "To accommodate ourselves to circumstances," replied the Chancellor, "is not weakness, but rather wisdom. The Emperor should not expose his person needlessly. Pardon my frankness, Sire; it is your duty not to court unnecessary danger."

      "Know, my lord," said Frederic, "that on the battlefield, he most easily escapes death who braves it most! But, rather death itself, than tame submission to such an outrage as this!"

      "Well, then, may Heaven help you!" said Rinaldo, despairingly, – "three hundred against eighty; – the odds are too great; – it is an unpardonable piece of rashness!"

      "Be it so, my lord! But what can three hundred traitors do against eighty German nobles, fighting for the honor of their name, in the cause of their sovereign? If I had with me only ten loyal knights, I would prove to the world, that, in Germany, courage and chivalry are not mere empty names! Come, gentlemen, to horse!"

      "To arms! to arms! Long live the Emperor!" cried the knights, inspired by the courage of their sovereign.

      "Your peaceful calling will render your presence useless in this bloody work of justice," said the Emperor, turning to his Chancellor. "It will be better that you should await our return. Stay, ride off immediately towards the German troops, who are on their march, and bid the princes hasten their arrival!"

      "May God preserve us!" said Rinaldo, perceiving that the Emperor wished to keep him out of danger. "I am ready to die with my sovereign."

      "Your fidelity needs no such act of heroism to prove its value," said Barbarossa. "Besides, I have by no means decided, as yet, to leave this world for another! But a truce to this discussion. Seek the princes, salute them in my name, and bid them march at once upon Milan!"

      Rinaldo anxiously watched the tall form of the Emperor through the crevices of the walls, as his heavy step resounded beneath the arches of the ruined church. The shrill blast of the trumpet assembled the knights who were already in the saddle. Without touching the stirrup, the prince vaulted upon his mail-clad steed, and in a few minutes the little band disappeared in the direction of the south-west.

      "There goes a man who probably rides to meet his death," said Rinaldo to himself. "His pride despises danger, and yet, though I know the strength of his arm, some trifling accident may ruin everything. Whilst I seek the princes, the Milanese may exult over his corpse, and Rome, raising again her humbled head, topple down the edifice built up so laboriously!"

      The Chancellor started, as a voice addressed him.

      "If you are ready, my lord Count, we will set forward," said the soldier whom Barbarossa had left behind as escort to the minister.

      "You should not have weakened the little troop by your absence, for your lance would be more than ever useful to-day to His Majesty."

      "Pshaw!" replied the man, "I have no fears about the result. The Guelphs never can stand before Count Otho and his brave lances. Besides, Barbarossa leads them, and I never saw his eye flash so fiercely as when he bade me stay with you."

      Rinaldo mounted his horse and, accompanied by the soldier, rode swiftly towards the north.

      Meanwhile the Emperor pushed forward. His knights rode behind him in stern silence, but with a look of grim determination upon their bronzed faces, and naught was heard, save the clatter of their horses' hoofs, and the rattle and clank of their armor. Barbarossa was carefully examining the distant limits of the plain, where could be seen what at first seemed only dark moving shadows; soon, however, the gleam of helmets and lances was distinctly visible, and even the heavy step of troops on the march could be distinctly heard. Barbarossa hesitated for a moment, as if in doubt what course


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