When Etzel became king of the Huns, he was the mightiest of all
chieftains, but his lust of power was not satisfied. He collected a
great army, and falling upon the land of the Franks, demanded tribute
with threats of devastation. The Frankish king was unprepared to defend
himself, so he paid large sums of money, and gave as hostage for his
good faith, the boy Hagen of Tronje (Tronege). His own son was too
young, being yet in the cradle.
The Huns went on to Burgundy, where they also levied tribute, and
received as hostage the king’s daughter Hildegunde, a child of four
years old. They were equally successful with King Alphar of Aquitaine,
who paid them much red gold, and gave them his young son Walter as
hostage.
Hagen and Walter early showed great warlike ability. They learnt from
the Huns to ride, throw the spear, and fight after the German fashion,
and few could equal them in manly sports. Hildegunde became very
lovely, and was a great favourite with the queen. Time went on, and
these young people all grew up. Helche advised her husband to marry
Hagen and Walter to Hunnish maidens of high degree, so as to confirm
them in their devotion to himself, and their adopted country; but the
youths did not admire the beauties of that nation, whose blubber-lips
did not provoke a kiss. Walter was more attracted by slender
Hildegunde’s rosy mouth, fair curls, and blue eyes, than by any of the
daughters of the land; and he was more pleasing in her eyes than the
bow-legged Hun whom the queen desired her to marry.
Meanwhile the Franks and Burgundians had thrown off the yoke of the
Huns, and Etzel did not dare to enforce it in the then condition of
affairs. Hagen one day found out what had chanced, and, according to
one account, he made his escape to his own people, but, according to
another, was sent home loaded with honours. But Etzel did his best to
keep Walter with him, for he knew his bravery and worth.
Once when the king returned with his warriors from conquering an
invading horde, he gave a great feast, and asked Hildegunde to sing him
a song. The maiden complied, and sang about her old home and her
mother, and how she trusted to return to them once more, when the hero
came for whom she waited. Etzel did not take in the sense of her song,
as she had expected; he had raised the wine-cup to his lips too often
for that. But Queen Helche understood, and determined to watch Walter
and the maiden, lest they should fly together.
Walter, too, had understood the meaning of the song, and soon found an
opportunity of arranging matters with Hildegunde regarding their flight.
“Do not sleep to-night,” he whispered one evening, “but slip into the
treasure-chamber, and take as much gold and silver as you can carry out
of the seventh chest; it is part of the tribute money that your father
and mine paid the Huns long ago. Put the money you have taken in two
caskets, and bring them down to the hall. You will find me waiting for
you at the gate with two saddled horses. We shall be gone a long time
before the drunken Huns find out that we have escaped them.”
[Illustration: WALTER AND HILDEGUNDE HALT IN THE FOREST.]
They carried out Walter’s plan in every particular, and made their way
to Bechelaren first, then to the Rhine, and finally to the mountains of
Wasgengau (Vosges), in the highest of which, the Wasgenstein, they
found a cave with such a narrow entrance that one man could there
defend himself against an army. Walter wished to rest awhile, for he
had had but little sleep during their long and toilsome journey, so he
asked the maiden to keep watch, lest a sudden attack should be made
upon them. He had not been long asleep when Hildegunde saw the sheen of
armour in the distance. She wakened the hero, telling him that the Huns
were upon them.
“These are not Huns, but Burgundians,” he answered, starting to his
feet. And he found they were messengers sent by King Gunther, to demand
that the treasure should be given up to him. Walter offered to hand
over a shield full of gold, but this was refused, and the fray began.
But the assailants could only approach one at a time; so the hero, who
had learnt from the Huns to throw the javelin, was able to kill them
one after the other with these missiles, and, when they failed, with
his sword. Hagen had come with Gunther’s men, but he stood apart during
the fight, siding with neither party; only when he saw his friends
falling fast, his hand involuntarily sought his sword, but he did not
draw it. He returned to the king, and advised him to try an ambush.
Next day, as Walter and Hildegunde were continuing their journey across
the open country, they were set upon by two men in complete armour, who
sprang out upon them from behind a clump of bushes. They were Hagen and
King Gunther. Despairing of flight, Walter leapt off his horse, and
they did the same. With wonderful agility, he dodged, now to the right,
now to the left, to avoid their blows; at length his sword cut through
one of King Gunther’s greaves, and the edge entered the bone of the
leg. He stood over the fallen king, and was about to deal him a
death-blow, when a stroke from Hagen disabled his sword-arm. He dropt
the sword, but with his left hand drew his dagger, and plunged it into
Hagen’s eye. Seeing them all three disabled, Hildegunde came forward to
propose a truce, and bound up all their wounds; after which she and
Walter went on their way in peace. They arrived at Aquitaine without
further adventure, and were there married. The young hero in later days
always took part with the Burgundians and Ermenrich, as we saw before
when Dietleib challenged him at Romaburg.
[Illustration]