Of a meeting between Sir Otto and the Sea-monarch in the
forest.
Now, after a bitter cold winter, the spring had begun to look out again
upon the Ardennes mountains, though the scenes were yet oftentimes
darkened by rain-clouds, the north wind contended with the zephyr,
and the streams were swollen with melting snows. There it befell once
on a day, towards evening, that a knight mounted on a stately horse,
and arrayed in bright golden armour, came from the heights of the
wood-covered hills into a narrow valley, so lonely and silent, that
it seemed hidden and closed up from all the world. The horseman had
a great battle-axe hung by gold chains from his saddle, two golden
vulture’s wings adorned his helmet; it was the sea-monarch, Arinbiorn.
He had not rode far into this sequestered vale, when, lo! there came
out of the thickets a wild brown horse, which advanced at full speed,
and making a furious attack on the sea-monarch’s tall charger, threw
him down with violence ere the rider could quit his seat, so that both
fell together; and the wild horse continued without mercy his warlike
assault. Sir Arinbiorn’s golden armour was already shattered, and his
charger bled from many severe wounds, when a powerful voice called
aloud from a rocky cliff, “Ruhig, du Bursch!” whereupon the raging
animal, bowing his head humbly towards the ground, stood motionless
as a statue. The brave Sir Arinbiorn then disengaged himself from the
stirrup, and raised up his wounded steed, in which work he was assisted
by the stranger, whose voice had sounded from the cliffs. Looking
on his companion, the knight perceived that he was a man clothed in
rough bear-skins, frightful to behold, while his long hair and beard
nearly concealed his features. His voice, however, sounded so mild
and friendly, and his whole demeanour was so courteous, that the
sea-monarch did not hesitate to accept his invitation, and accompany
him to his dwelling, which was not far distant.
They came accordingly to a cave in the rocks, of which the entrance
was sheltered and adorned by the projecting fantastic roots of old
oak-trees. Deep in the abyss within, a warm fire was blazing, and
as they approached nearer, the light fell on a complete suit of
armour, which hung upright on a pole, so that the strange fashion of
its ornaments was clearly revealed. They were of burnished silver,
contrasting with black steel, and the helmet had a visor representing
the hooked bill of an eagle. There was also a glittering sword, but in
two pieces, tied together with rushes; and the whole stood there like
a monumental trophy, such as one finds in old chapels over the grave
of some renowned champion. Sir Arinbiorn thought at first, that there
was indeed a warrior thus attired leaning against the wall; but soon
after perceived that the head-piece was void; and yet he could not
repress certain thoughts of ambuscade and stratagem, in consequence of
which perhaps his own armour might ere long be hung up in the cave as
this was now! So he grappled at the battle-axe, which he had disengaged
from his saddle and brought with him into the cavern. Then said the
wild man in the bear’s-skin, “Sir Knight, I pray you, take no care for
your safety here. These are but my own weapons and coat-of-mail, or
rather what were once mine; for now I shall never wear them more. I
am in truth no assassin, nor would do wrong to any one over the wide
world.” “Nay, I believe you thoroughly,” said the sea-monarch; “and
my fears were indeed very foolish. For, if you had meditated any evil
designs against me, wherefore would you have called off your wild angry
horse; or wherefore would you have shewn such kindness to mine, laying
medicinal herbs to his wounds, and leading him to a fold where the
ground was covered with soft moss? For, surely, whoever takes such
care for the horse, must also have kind intentions towards his rider.
Will my courteous entertainer yet forgive me?” “Enough said,” answered
the man in the bear-skin; “I forgive you willingly, as indeed I might,
like a good Christian, say to all the world, though to me nothing has
been forgiven.” At these words, his voice faultered, and he turned away
more perchance that his guest might not then see that he wept, than to
search out some store of food which was concealed under a covering of
moss.
“So may Heaven protect me,” said the sea-monarch, “as I now firmly
believe that you of all men are the knight of whom I am now riding
in quest. I have been told of a black and silver coat-of-mail, and a
visor like an eagle’s head, all such as I now see before me in that
corner. Truly I have never yet beheld you in your coat-of-mail, but
only in your festival-attire, with your green velvet barret and your
embroidered doublet.”
“From the first moment, however, I had clearly recognised you,” said
the man in the bear-skin. “Was it possible, indeed, that I should have
forgotten the vulture’s wings, or your heavy battle-axe, of which you
may yet perceive the wound by your arm inflicted?” With these words he
parted his long disordered locks, so that the sea-monarch might behold
a deep scar on his head. Then he resumed, “I had not thought it needful
to tell you who I was; but from him who comes in quest of me I shall
never conceal myself. What then is your pleasure, Sir King of the Sea?
I am ready to meet you either here in peace, or on the battle-field in
wrath.”
“You look at me, indeed, as if you were ready for another combat, young
hero,” answered the sea-monarch; “but this is not my purpose; for Gerda
has already confessed to me, that the drink which she had secretly
prepared, was the cause of all the evils which befell you. Therefore I
have enjoined her never more to come into my presence, nor to follow me
as heretofore, by land or sea.”
“Thou should’st at least have doomed her to death,” cried Sir Otto
vehemently, “lest, by her accursed witchcraft, some other unsuspecting
mortal should be deluded and led astray as I have been! Could she not
even then have afforded me some warning, after I had drank from that
abominable cup, so that I might not trust to its illusions?”
“Nay, Sir Otto,” said the sea-king, “that was not within her power.
Knowing the evils that were to come, she had been anxious for my
safety. She had pronounced many powerful spells over the battle-axe
which I yet wield, in order that, by their influence, I might be
enabled to resist you in combat; and whosoever has in one day so often
invoked the supernatural and invisible powers, falls for a space under
their dominion, and must act according to their will. Moreover, after
she had uttered those incantations, the spirits, who were then beside
her, forced her away with them into the wild autumnal woods, where they
howled like wolves and screamed like owls around her. Not till two
days thereafter, when I was on the sea-shore, far from the castle of
the Knight of Montfaucon, she came after me, and revealed the direful
mysteries which I have now unfolded to you.”
“Ay, she revealed these mysteries,” said Sir Otto angrily; “but what
avails this to me? My fair fame and my well-earned happiness are lost,
and her confessions will not again restore them.”
“In what light then do you behold me?” answered the sea-monarch; “you
might methinks have guessed without being told, that I dispersed
immediately all my followers, in all directions, wherever any one was
to be found who had been present at that banquet; and that I pledged
my honour and sword thereon, that you were a noble Christian knight,
pious and honourable, no less than brave; therefore, free from all the
guilt of which you had been accused. Then, too, I rode myself back to
the castle, in order to console you; and because I hoped still to find
there the best of that illustrious party. You, however, had vanished
utterly; also Gabrielle, Blanchefleur, and Folko. My former captives,
Heerdegen and Bertha, were also far distant. All that I could do,
therefore, was to make known the truth among the squires and sentinels,
then to remount my horse, and follow the road which was pointed out
to me, as that chosen by the last of the guests who had departed
from the castle. On the way, I blew, at frequent intervals, my great
hunting-horn, trusting that, if it were heard by Sir Heerdegen, he
would attend to the signal; for in France such powerful notes are not
usually heard. It befell, as I expected, that once on a time the blast
came to his ears, and he said immediately, ‘There sounded the trumpet
of the sea-monarch, Arinbiorn! Either he would warn us against some
approaching evil, or would himself obtain assistance.’ So he and his
sister halted. I overtook them, and related to him the whole truth.”
“And did they believe that I was innocent?” said Sir Otto.
“How could it prove otherwise,” answered the sea-monarch, “since they
never had cause to doubt my word? Besides, Sir Folko de Montfaucon
and the Lady Blanchefleur had never believed that you were a wicked
enchanter; and had it not been, that he was severely wounded, and
the damsel half killed with terror, they never would have left the
castle. Gabrielle (for she also was present) and Sir Heerdegen were
bitterly ashamed of the part they had taken against you; and, as he is
an honourable and brave knight, he resolved to leave his sister with
Gabrielle, and bound himself by a solemn vow, that from henceforth he
would never rest until he had found you, and seen you reinstated in
all your former happiness. Sir Folko would have sworn the same oath,
for his friendship is unabated; but he and Don Hernandez, as soon as
they are cured of their wounds, must ride into Spain, and fight against
the Moors; for to that purpose they were already bound. The three fair
damsels all joined, to beg that I would swear as Sir Heerdegen had
done; but as I had already resolved that my life should be devoted
to your service, until I had found you, I told them that vows were
needless. So through the long winter I have travelled unceasingly,
from land to land, and at length, with the blessing of God, have been
successful. To-morrow, methinks, you would do well to throw aside your
present wild attire; and as soon as you are once more like other men,
to ride straight from hence to your beautiful bride, who is now along
with Blanchefleur and Bertha, at a castle in a blooming valley of
Gascony. Meanwhile I shall go to my old kingdom of the sea, for which,
to say the truth, I have heartily longed; and so is ended the story
which I came to tell you.”
“But what then has become of the ring?” inquired Sir Otto; “for
Gabrielle, as I know, had resolved to give it back to Sir Folko de
Montfaucon.”
“That difficulty has also vanished,” said the sea-monarch; “I believe
that Gabrielle has it again in her possession; at least there are
no disputes among them, and they live all happily together. During
the absence of the Chevalier de Montfaucon in Spain, the Lady
Blanchefleur, as I have already said, lives at her friend’s pleasant
castle in Gascony, where she can receive frequent intelligence of her
brother’s exploits and victories; the rest you will ere long hear from
themselves, especially from your bride.”
“No,” said Sir Otto, after a long pause, during which he seemed lost
in mournful reflection; “I shall not so soon receive that intelligence
from Gabrielle. You must know, Sir Arinbiorn, there is nothing in the
wide world which is to me so intolerable as to be pitied; and should
I go to them now, they would doubtless pity me for all that I have
suffered. Therefore I shall never again come into their presence, until
I can appear with a wreath of victory so bright and dazzling, that they
shall not only pay to me the tribute of justice, but of admiration and
wonder.”
“You are proud,” answered the sea-monarch; “but I should speak falsely
if I said that I could blame you for this. Let me then make to you
one proposal, Sir Knight of Trautwangen. The people of the Finland
frontiers, and also many inhabitants of North Sweden, are still blind
and obstinate Pagans and idolaters. I have promised my assistance
to conquer and convert them; and in this undertaking you would meet
with adventures as full of danger and renown as you can desire. Sir
Heerdegen also, had he not been bound by his vows to search after you,
was to have joined me there in summer. In that land we shall doubtless
perform many glorious achievements for the honour of our holy faith,
and many a trophy will be won. Thither then let us go together.”
Sir Otto sat for a space in silence; but, as he perceived that the
sea-monarch looked at him doubtfully and with surprise, he blushed
deeply, and said,--“You perhaps believe, Sir Knight of the Sea, that
when I speak of campaigns here or there, or gaining victories, that I
am not in earnest, and that I am to be numbered among those poltrons
who speak readily enough of the most terrific exploits, and would
yet faint with terror, if one informed them, that the dangers which
they pretend to wish for were likely to draw near. Is this now your
judgement of me?”
“Sir Otto von Trautwangen,” said the sea-monarch, “I have travelled in
quest of you through the whole past winter. Such duty, it is certain,
that I would not have performed for the sake of a caitiff such as you
have even now described; for, in truth, the task would have been to
me as painful as it would be for a sea-lion to remain five long months
without the sight of the salt water. Yet that I am surprised at your
hesitation to engage in a campaign so honourable, is a truth which I
cannot deny, and I would gladly learn the reasons thereof.”
“I shall answer you without hesitation,” said Sir Otto, “though at the
risk, perhaps, of appearing very childish in your opinion. In truth,
then, the golden vulture’s wings on your helmet are alone the cause of
my doubts whether I should go with you to Finland. Even now, when their
gigantic shadow fell betwixt me and the fire-light, I could not help
shuddering at the recollection, how many frightful stories my father
has related of a man tall as you are in stature, and who wore the same
strange head-piece. Mark you, Sir Arinbiorn, my father is a courageous
old hero, of a buoyant spirit; and there are indeed few thoughts by
which his countenance can be changed; yet when he speaks of the man
with the vulture’s wings his large dark eyes are full of horror, and
he stares at some dark corner of his ancestral hall, as if he expected
that his spectral opponent were ready to start out against him.”
“What then has your father related of this man?” inquired the
sea-monarch, with a melancholy smile.
“Much--very much!” answered Sir Otto, “especially how this man was
always attracted by misfortune, and for many a long mile over lakes
and rivers, hills and dales, was forced to travel when some horrible
adventure was at hand. Then, in the hour of danger, he always came to
the assistance of the distressed; but, as he was always the forerunner
of evil, every one looked on the giant’s appearance with fear and
trembling. Above all, if any one had a weight of guilt on his own
heart, he was horrified at the tall man’s approach; for vengeance
seemed the special duty of the knight with the winged helmet; and never
did he fail in its fulfilment, except on one occasion only, and of
that event my father never would relate to me the story; for it was, as
he said, too fearful a legend for one so young and inexperienced.”
“Your father has told but the truth,” answered the sea-monarch with a
sigh; “there was indeed a man such as you have described in our family,
but he is long since dead.”
“I believe, that I have myself fought with his skeleton in the chapel
of Trautwangen,” said Sir Otto, shuddering at the recollection, though
Sir Arinbiorn understood him not. Then he resumed--“It is from terror
of that ghostly combat that I now feel reluctant to go with you. Who
knows what frightful spectres may start forth against us from that
melancholy gloom which time and distance have thrown over your house
and mine!”
“Such spectres belong to darkness everywhere and in all hours,”
answered Sir Arinbiorn; “and, methinks, it should be so. A new light
is now to be shed on the gloom by which our northern climes are
over-shadowed. The darker that the night is, the pleasanter that
morning will be.”
“Ay,” replied Sir Otto cheerfully; “there you are indeed in the right,
and our minstrel, Walter, has also truly sung--
“Dark night precedes the morn,
So grief may joyance bring;
And death leads through the wintry grave
To life’s eternal spring.”
“Now, then, are you satisfied?” said Sir Arinbiorn. “Truly, if there
have been darkness and fearful mysteries lowering over us in former
ages, the time has doubtless come when our efforts are to change
these into light and happiness. Courage, then, my noble friend!--Let
us now join hands in token of your consent to travel with me through
East Friesland, then across the seas to Norway, and from thence to the
Finland frontier.”
“Be it so, in God’s name!” said Sir Otto; and the two brave knights,
rejoicing over the friendly bargain they had made, resolved to set out
on the following day. Meanwhile they laid themselves to sleep on the
soft fragrant moss with which the cave was covered.