Dietrich lived in friendship with Etzel, king of the Huns, from the
time Rüdiger first brought them together. When the hero came back from
Burgundy, he had sent ambassadors to the king, and promised to help him
if he was in any difficulty. It was not long before he was reminded of
this promise.
The Margrave, who was known in all lands by the title of the good and
gentle, came to Bern one day as he had often come before, for he was a
welcome guest. On such occasions the warriors would talk over their
past adventures, and tell tales of noble and doughty deeds. Rüdiger
told amongst other things of his adventures in Spain, and how he had at
last left that country, and taken service under King Etzel, who had
always been a true friend to him since the beginning of their
acquaintance. He went on to relate how King Etzel, powerful monarch as
he then was, did not shun to speak of the hardships and homelessness of
his early youth.
“Yes, truly,” interrupted Master Hildebrand, “and I know as much of his
early youth as ever the great king himself. Once when Wilkinus was
ruler of the Wilkin-men——”
“Ha! my great-grandfather!” cried Wittich. “What have you to say of
him?”
“I only know,” continued the master, “that he was a mighty chief, and
that many kings were subject to him; amongst others, King Hertnit.
After the death of Wilkinus, Hertnit rebelled against his son and heir,
Nordian, and forced the latter to acknowledge him as his liege lord.
The conquered king obtained the rule of Zealand in fief, and declared
himself satisfied, although he had four gigantic sons, namely,
Asperian, Edgar, Awentrod, and terrible Widolf of the club, who was
always kept chained up, because he did so much destruction whenever he
was in a rage. When great Hertnit died, he divided his kingdom amongst
his three sons. Osantrix (Oserich) obtained the rule over the
Wilkin-men, Waldemar that over the Reussen, and Ylias became yarl of
the Greeks. The eldest of the three wooed beautiful Oda, daughter of
Melias, king of the Huns. He won her by trickery and force, with the
help of Nordian’s four giant sons. Oda’s father and husband became
allies after the marriage, but they could not conquer the bold
Frisians, who often made raids into the land of the Huns, and burnt,
destroyed, or stole whatever they laid their hands on. For Melias was
old and weak, and the Wilkin-men lived so far away that their help
always arrived too late. The leader of these bold invaders was the
mighty man of valour now known as King Etzel, or Attila as he is
sometimes called. He was a son of the Frisian chieftain Osid, and after
his father’s death had to allow his brother Ortnit to succeed to the
rule of Friesland, and himself go out into the wide world, with nothing
but his armour and a good sword. But Frisians are a bold and warlike
people. Many of them joined themselves to the young hero, and
accompanied him in his viking raids into the neighbouring land of the
Huns. When Melias died, the notables of the land elected their former
enemy, bold Etzel, to be their king, and thus the robber chief and
invader became the sovereign and protector of the country he had once
laid waste.”
“Yes,” returned Rüdiger, “that is quite true, and there is more to
tell. King Etzel wished to marry Erka (Herche or Helche), the beautiful
daughter of Osantrix, chief of the Wilkin-men. I was sent as ambassador
to her father, and was well received; but when I told the king the
object of my mission, he grew wrathful, and said that he would never
give his consent to such a marriage, for Etzel was not the rightful
chief of the Huns; adding that the position was his by right of his
wife, the daughter of Melias. He cared not when I threatened him with
war; but desired me to go my way. Etzel invaded the country with his
men; and when, after much fighting, a truce was at last agreed to,
neither side had gained much advantage.
“A year later, I went back with a number of brave men, and had a strong
castle built for me in the Falster-wood. This done, I stained my face,
and otherwise disguised by a long beard, went again to visit Osantrix.
I told him I was a faithful servant of the late King Melias, that I had
been ill-treated and deprived of my lands by Etzel, and had therefore
taken refuge with him. This story gained me his confidence, and having
occasion to send his daughter Erka a message, he made me his
ambassador. I told the maiden of Etzel’s wooing, and how he wished to
share his power and glory with her. At first she was very angry, but at
last consented to marry him.
“One moonlight night, I brought horses to the gates of the fortress
where she was shut up with her young sister; broke the bars, and
carried off the princesses. We were pursued, but managed to reach the
castle in the wood where my men were awaiting me. I had scarcely time
to send a message to Etzel, when Osantrix came upon us with all his
host. He laid siege to our stronghold; but we managed to defend
ourselves till Etzel came with a great army, and forced the Wilkin-men
to withdraw. Ever since then, there has been a constant predatory
warfare between the two nations, and Osantrix has even now invaded our
land with a large army. He is accompanied by Nordian’s giant sons, who
are the terror of our people. Now, noble Dietrich, Etzel thinks that if
you will come and help him, he is sure of victory.”
“Ah well! If my dear comrade Wildeber will go with me,” cried Wittich,
“I think that we two shall be able to reckon with the giants.”
Dietrich promised his help, and ordered all preparations to be made for
the campaign. The Bernese heroes arrived just in time, for the two
armies were standing opposite each other in battle array. The fight
began.
Dietrich and his men took up their position in the centre division. The
Amelung banner, borne by Herbrand, floated proudly above their heads,
and Wittich rushed foremost into the fray. He first encountered the
grim giant Widolf, who gave him a blow on the helmet with his iron
club. The dragon that formed the top of the helmet was bent by the
terrible blow, and although Wieland’s work did not break, the hero
himself fell from his horse, and lay senseless on the ground. Over him
rushed the men-at-arms in the wild _mêlée_. Heime alone drew rein. He
stooped, and drew the sword Mimung out of Wittich’s hand, for he held
him to be dead. When the wild fight was over and done, the Wilkin-men
retreated from the field, and the Huns pursued them, plundering where
they could. Hertnit, nephew of Osantrix, reached the battle-field too
late. He could not prevent his uncle’s defeat, but he found Wittich, as
yet scarcely recovered from his swoon, and took him prisoner.
The victors feasted at Susat, and rejoiced over their great deeds; but
Dietrich was sad at heart, for he had lost sixty of his men; and, worst
than all, his friend and comrade, Wittich, was among the missing. In
vain had they sought him on the battle-field. All wondered what had
become of him. When the king of Bern, richly rewarded for his help by
Etzel, made ready for his departure, Wildeber came to him, and asked
for leave of absence, because he would not, could not, go home without
Wittich. Dietrich willingly gave his consent, for he could not help the
foolish hope springing up within his breast that perhaps Wittich might
be yet alive, and that his friend might find him.
The next day, Wildeber went out hunting, and slew a bear of unusual
size. He skinned it, and went with the skin to Isung, the minstrel, and
arranged with him a plan to free Wittich, should he be a prisoner in
the hands of Osantrix. Isung helped him to draw the skin over his
armour, and fasten it up carefully; then led him in the guise of a
dancing bear to the stronghold of the chief of the Wilkin-men.
Now wandering players and merry-andrews, of every sort, were welcome
guests in all castles and cottages, so Isung and his bear were well
received.
Osantrix laughed heartily at the marvellous agility of the creature in
dancing and springing to the sound of the fiddle, and even Widolf, the
grim giant, who was led about with a chain by his brother Awentrod,
laughed for the first time in his life, making the halls shake with the
sound. Suddenly it occurred to the king that it would enhance the sport
to set his twelve boar-hounds on the bear, to see how strong it was.
Isung vainly entreated the king to forbear the cruel sport, alleging
that his tame bear was worth more to him than all the gold in the royal
treasury; but Osantrix was not to be persuaded. The great dogs were
loosed, and the barbarous sport began. To the astonishment of all, the
boar-hounds were either worried or smitten to death by the bear.
Osantrix sprang angrily to his feet, and slashed at the creature’s
shoulder with his sword; but the steel armour under inside the
bear-skin saved the hero’s life. Another moment, and the bear had
wrenched the sword from the king’s hand, and split his head open. The
second blow did to death grim Widolf, the third his brother Awentrod.
Isung stood staunchly by his friend when the Wilkin-men sought to
avenge their king. The courtiers, however, soon took flight in deadly
fear of the player and his wild beast.
Wildeber now threw off the bear-skin, took the helmet off one of the
giants, and fully armed, set out in search of Wittich. The heroes
searched the palace. They found Wittich’s good steed Skeming, and his
armour; but neither him nor the sword Mimung could they discover.
At length they lighted on him in a damp, dark dungeon, chained to a
wall, and grown so pale and thin as to be hardly recognisable. Fresh
air, food, and wine soon made a change in his appearance. He put on his
armour, and sadly took another sword, saying that none could be as good
as Mimung.
“Now let us begone,” said Isung, “lest the Wilkin-men should come back.”
So Wildeber and he helped themselves to horses from the royal stables,
and the three heroes galloped away.
“Of a truth,” cried King Etzel, when he heard their story, “you are
bold men. You have done me good service, and have brought the war to an
end unaided. The lord of Bern is richer than I, in that he has comrades
who willingly venture their own lives to serve a brother-in-arms.”
He kept the heroes for several days to recruit their strength, and then
sent them home laden with rich gifts.
Dietrich was overjoyed to see his brave warriors again, and showed them
honour in many ways; but noticing that trusty Wittich was silent, and
had no appetite for wine or food, he asked him what ailed him. And
Wittich answered that he sorrowed for the loss of Mimung, his father’s
best gift, and would go in search of it though he had to wander through
every land.
“I have a notion that you need not take so long a journey,” replied the
king, “for I cannot help thinking that the sword Heime wears is as like
Wieland’s work as one drop of blood is like another.”
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of two warriors in rich
armour, who had been sent by the Emperor Ermenrich, Dietrich’s uncle,
to tell the hero that Yarl Rimstein, his vassal in a great fief, had
revolted against his authority. Ermenrich, therefore, entreated his
nephew’s aid, and Dietrich promised to help the emperor.