Alboin gave a great feast to his warriors, at which much of the fiery
wine of the south was consumed. The talk of the guests was of the great
deeds of Wodan, the god of battles, and how he and Frigga had led their
fathers to victory; then they spoke of their own conquest of the Gepidæ
and their victories in Italy.
In the midst of this, Alboin, intoxicated with wine and pride,
commanded that the goblet made out of Künemund’s skull should be
brought, and turning to queen Rosamund desired her to pledge him it.
She hesitated. “Why,” he cried, “know you not, Rosamund, that I love
you more than aught in the world besides? Show me now your love and
obedience by doing what I bid you.” She looked at him in silent
entreaty, but her hesitation aroused his anger. He raised his hand to
strike her—and then—she lifted her murdered father’s skull to her
lips. None could tell whether she drank or not, for, flinging the
goblet on the table so violently that the wine ran out, she said, “I
have obeyed you, but you have lost your wife.” Having uttered these
words, she rose and left the room.
A hoarse murmur of indignation passed from mouth to mouth, for no one
approved of what the king had done. And he, suddenly sobered by his
wife’s words and action, got up and left the hall.
Alboin did not see Rosamund again until the following day, when she
went about her usual duties quietly. The insult seemed to be forgiven
and forgotten. But Rosamund could neither forgive nor forget. She
dreamed of vengeance. At last she persuaded Helmigis, the king’s
shield-bearer, to murder his master; but when the moment for action
came, he feared to do the deed. So the queen turned to Peredeus for
help, and by means of flattery and sweet words brought him over to her
side. One evening he slipt into the king’s room and slew him. Before
Alboin’s death became known, the conspirators, of whom there were many,
got possession of the royal treasure, and hid it away in a secret
place. Soon after this, Rosamund announced her betrothal to Helmigis,
and named him as Alboin’s successor in royal power.
The nobles assembled to debate this point, and, after much discussion,
it was agreed by a large majority that the murderer of the great Alboin
was the last man who ought to succeed him; that he should rather be
punished for his crime. Hearing how matters were going on in the
council, the conspirators fled.