King Hettel and fair Hilde lived happily at Matelane, and the men of
Hegeling, Friesland, and Dietmarsch, were faithful subjects, out of
love and gratitude for the justice and protection afforded them by
their liege lord. Two children were born to the royal pair, Ortwin and
Gudrûn (pronounced Goodroon), both of whom were strong and blooming as
Nordland roses. As the boy grew older, he was given into the charge of
the hero of Sturmland, that he might learn all that it became him to
know from the greatest warrior in the land. Gudrûn remained at home
with her parents, and was instructed by her mother, both by precept and
example, in all woman’s work and knowledge. So she grew up, and became
celebrated in every land for her beauty, her gentleness, and her wisdom.
Many noble princes came to woo her while she was yet very young. Among
them was the proud Moorish king, Siegfried, gigantic in height, and
brown of hue. With many kings for tributaries, he felt himself so
great, that he feared no refusal. Queen Hilde, however, thought the
hero too arbitrary in his manners, and ignorant of the proper way to
treat women. Hettel was of the same opinion; so he told the wooer that
the maiden was too young to be able to conduct a royal household. The
Moorish king returned to his distant realm in great anger and disgust.
But before leaving Matelane, he had bribed some faithless men with gold
to keep him informed of all that went on in the land of the Hegelings.
Now, at this time, King Ludwig ruled over Normandy and the neighbouring
lands. He was a great and warlike king. His son, Hartmut, was like his
father in character, and helped him in his wars. When the latter heard
of Gudrûn, he determined to woo her for his wife. King Ludwig thought
it a mistake, because the maiden’s grandfather, Hagen, had once been
his feudal superior, and had never forgiven him for having freed
Normandy from the Irish yoke; also he believed that Queen Hilde had
inherited her father’s temper. The Lady Gerlind, Ludwig’s queen, was of
a different opinion: she thought that Hartmut was worthy of the noblest
wife in Christendom, and that, if they only set about the matter in the
right way, his offer would be accepted. The young warrior was pleased
with his mother’s counsel, so ambassadors were sent to the Hegeling
court, bearing rich presents. Queen Hilde accepted the gifts with
gracious courtesy, thanked the ambassadors for bringing them, and added
that she supposed the lord of Normandy wished to pay off an old debt
which he owed her father as his liege lord. The warriors were kindly
treated, although the king and queen heard their message with
displeasure, and said that the husband of their daughter must be of
higher birth than the lord of Normandy. The ambassadors, seeing that no
good would come of their further stay, returned to Ludwig with their
evil tidings.
The Norman king was not much surprised at the result of the embassy;
but the Lady Gerlind, whose ancestors had been powerful kings, chafed
under the affront, and advised her son to avenge the insult with his
sword. But the young prince had thought of another plan. He possessed
strongholds and granges in Scotland. So he determined to go a-wooing
himself in Scottish garb, accompanied by a large train of attendants.
He was a hero, learned in all knightly duties, tall, manly, and
strikingly handsome. He was accustomed to ladies’ smiles, and to meet
with kindness from women wherever he went; so he never for a moment
doubted his power of winning the love of the Princess Gudrûn. The ships
were manned, a favourable wind filled the sails, but soon fell again,
and the voyage was a very slow one.
[Illustration: GUDRÛN ON THE SHORE.]
Meanwhile, another suitor had arrived at Matelane. This was bold
Herwig, lord of Zealand. He was a brave warrior, celebrated in many a
victory; a faithful friend and loyal foe. Fair curls surrounded his
face, and his blue eyes shone with intelligence.
The maiden and he soon learned to understand each other, and before a
word of love was spoken, each knew the other’s feelings.
When Hartmut arrived, in the guise of a Scottish prince, he soon
discovered what was going on.
A favourable chance led Hartmut to the garden one day, and there he
found Gudrûn alone. He told her of his love, and at the same time
explained who he was. She was startled, but soon recovering herself,
answered that she cared for some one else. She further told him to
beware how he betrayed his identity, for her father and mother regarded
King Ludwig as a vassal, and his life would be in danger if they knew
his name and quality. The word vassal brought an angry flush to the
young hero’s cheek; he did not, however, betray his feelings, but took
leave of the maid in seemly fashion, and, after saying farewell to the
king and queen, set sail for his own land.
Herwig lingered on at the palace in the hope that he might find some
opportunity of seeing and speaking to the princess alone. But, whether
by accident, or because the queen prevented it, he never found his
opportunity. So he went boldly to the king, and made a formal offer for
Gudrûn’s hand. Hettel listened to him calmly, and told him that the
maiden was too young to marry. This, however, was merely an excuse, for
he really thought the king of Zealand was too poor a match for his
peerless daughter.
Herwig found no rest at home. He assembled his forces, and prepared to
invade the land of the Hegelings. His army only consisted of three
thousand warriors, but they were one and all tried men of valour, on
whom he could rely. Hettel was totally unprepared for the invasion. His
heroes were at their own homes, or scattered abroad; but he collected
what men he could, and went out against the foe. Soon the clang of arms
sounded on the strand, and the battle began. It raged fiercely for a
long time. At length Queen Hilde, taking Gudrûn with her, and followed
by her ladies, descended to the place of combat, and spoke so wisely
that she soon induced the men to put up their weapons, and make peace.
Hettel was so much pleased with the boldness and valour displayed by
Herwig, that he consented to receive him as his son-in-law, but
stipulated that the marriage should not take place for a year.
Herwig spent some time at Matelane in company with certain other
warriors, and at midsummer, young Ortwin and several of his friends
received their swords at the hands of old Wate of Sturmland, who bade
them act in all things so as to be soon worthy of the honour of
knighthood. At the jousts that followed, the young men’s prowess
gladdened their teacher’s heart. But the rejoicings came to a sudden
end through the arrival of some wounded men from Zealand, who brought
news that the Moorish king, Siegfried, had fallen upon the island, and
was laying the country waste.
Hettel determined to send troops to help Herwig against the Moors; but
the king of Zealand would not wait until they could be summoned; he set
out at once, saying that they could follow, and he would meantime go
and show his people that he had not deserted them.
Herwig landed in a small bay. His heart was wrung when he saw the
devastation caused by the cruel Moor, and knew that he was not strong
enough to offer him battle. But he was not idle for all that. He and
his three thousand followers separated into companies, cut off isolated
bands of free-booters, and harassed the enemy as much as they could. So
matters went on for days and weeks. At length the Hegeling fleet
arrived with Hettel and his heroes. A great battle was fought by sea
and land, but, although the Moors suffered terrible loss, both in men
and ships, it was by no means a decisive battle. Siegfried knew that he
had now no hope of winning the victory in open war, but still he
trusted to the chapter of accidents to get him out of his difficulties.
And he did not hope in vain.
Whilst King Hettel and his heroes were fighting in Zealand, Hartmut,
with a large Norman army, had fallen upon the land of the Hegelings.
Ludwig had accompanied his son. Together they had stormed the palace at
the head of their men, had taken it, and had carried away the Princess
Gudrûn and her maidens; amongst whom was Hildburg, granddaughter of
that Hildburg whom Hagen found on the griffin’s strand.
The first messenger, who brought the news of the Norman invasion, was
soon followed by a second, with tidings of the storming of the castle,
and the carrying off of Gudrûn. The first thought in every mind was to
set off in pursuit of the robbers; King Hettel sent to offer terms to
Siegfried, telling him at the same time of what had chanced, and the
Moorish king immediately offered to help to rescue the princess; so an
alliance was concluded between Hettel, Herwig, and Siegfried without
more ado.
This being settled, they turned their attention to the ships; but great
was their despair when they found that most of them had been burnt in
the fight, and of those that remained very few were seaworthy. Herwig
and his men would have started alone in the few vessels that remained,
but Irolt the Frisian stopped them, by drawing their attention to a
fleet that was already approaching the shore. The masts and flags of
the coming ships all bore the sign of the cross, and on deck were
figures in long grey garments, with the staff of peace in their hands.
“They are pilgrims going to the Holy Sepulchre,” said Horand the
minstrel.
The pilgrims disembarked and pitched their tents on the strand, to
enjoy a little rest after their long and toilsome voyage.
“Necessity knows no law,” said Wate. “These pious men must put off
their journey for a little. They have plenty of time to do their
penance in. Let us borrow their vessels and provisions. If we return,
we can reward them richly for the enforced loan.”
Horand and Frute warned their friends that such a deed would surely
bring its punishment. The pilgrims raised their hands in piteous
entreaty. All in vain. King Hettel decided to take the ships, and Wate
and Herwig voted with him.
So the heroes sailed over the high seas in pursuit of the Normans, in
ships that bore the cross as their pennon.
After many days’ sail they saw before them a low flat island, called
the Wölpensand, and on it a great army was encamped, upon whose banners
was depicted a raven with widespread wings, the ensign of the Normans.
They were able to get quite close to the land, thanks to the pilgrims’
ships, before their real character was discovered. But no sooner was it
known, than the Normans sprang to their feet, and shouting their
battle-cry, stood ready to defend themselves.
The battle began. Lances and arrows filled the air, and many a deed of
desperate valour was done on either side. Darkness alone put an end to
the fight. The victory was undecided. It was a dark and cloudy night,
and the flickering watch-fires alone threw any light upon the scene.
Then it was that King Hettel challenged Ludwig to single combat,
telling him that he should always regard him as a coward if he did not
at once arm him for the fray. Ludwig accepted the challenge, and came
out to meet the king. Many a shrewd blow did the heroes exchange before
Ludwig at length gave his adversary his death-wound. Seeing their
leader fall, the Hegelings rushed forward shouting their battle-cry,
and a general engagement took place in the darkness. None could tell
friend from foe, and many a brave warrior fell under his comrade’s
spear. The leaders on either side ordered the horns to blow the recall,
and the two armies took up their position at a greater distance from
each other than before. Knowing the vengeance the Hegelings would take
on the following day, the Normans thought prudence the better part of
valour, and set sail for home under cover of the night, taking their
prisoners with them; for they were on their way home from Hegelingland.
At daybreak, old Wate called his men to be up and doing. Great was the
astonishment of all when they found their enemy flown. Wate and Herwig
were keen to follow the Normans without loss of time, but Frute and
Morung advised them to be prudent. They reminded them of the numbers of
men they had lost, and advised that they should go home, and wait till
the young men, who were growing up, should be old enough to bear arms.
The wisdom of this advice was recognised by all. Herwig alone felt
indignant, but he was powerless to act unaided, so he returned to
Zealand to work for his people, until the time should come to renew the
expedition.
Queen Hilde was sad at heart when she saw the Hegelings return
vanquished, and without either her husband or daughter. But what could
she do? She was only a weak woman, unable to wield a sword, to avenge
Hettel or to save Gudrûn.
Horand, Morung, and Irolt mourned the dead king with her, but old Wate
chid them for women, and bade them rouse themselves, and teach the
youth of the land all warlike accomplishments, to the end that they
might win the day when the time for vengeance came.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]