How the dominion of Gerda was overthrown.
Now they came through the gate on the north side of the altar, and
the soft gleams of the moonlight fell cool and refreshingly on
their pale visages. At the same time, to their great astonishment,
the air that they here breathed was like that of spring-tide; and,
behold! green boughs, as in the month of May, were waving round the
altar.--“What means this?” said the sea-monarch; “when we entered
here last night, the ground lay under the cold crackling shroud of
snow and ice; now the moonlight plays on luxuriant grass and verdant
foliage.”--“Alas! my friends,” answered Sir Archimbald, “many weeks
have indeed passed away since you were first bound by the fetters of
enchantment in the witch’s cavern. Now the brightness and warmth of
spring are again restored to the Hartz forest.” Sir Otto, meanwhile,
was gazing on the moon’s beautiful crescent, and started as he thought
of Hildiridur.--“Good Heaven!” cried he, “and has she then been
left for such a length of time in the charcoal-man’s cottage, and
exposed to every attack from the hobgoblins and evil spirits of this
forest?”--“Now, mark you,” said the sea-monarch to Sir Archimbald, “he
speaks of his mother.”--“I know it well,” answered Sir Archimbald,
“and she is safe in my castle. It was my chance to find Hildiridur in
the charcoal-man’s hut, a few days after you had left her there, and I
prevailed on her to go with me, that she might be properly lodged and
attended under my roof. Good Heaven! she is indeed like a living image
of the Blessed Virgin, whose portrait every good Christian carries
deeply imprinted on his heart. Her silent tears and sighs were at last
so moving, that I was determined to set out on the adventure which
brought me to join you in the witch’s cavern. Swerker and the squires,
who joined us before we left the cottage of the charcoal-burner, have
remained, along with my own soldiers, to guard Hildiridur in the
castle; for, in truth, such a pearl or diamond of surpassing worth
cannot be too anxiously watched over and protected.” Hereupon Sir Otto
could not answer in words, but only seized and pressed his hand in
token of gratitude; for the feverish weariness that followed his severe
wounds now weighed so heavily upon him, that at last he fell fainting
to the ground, on the same mossy couch whereon they had laid the body
of Sir Heerdegen. Thereafter Archimbald blew his signal-horn, and some
squires hastened up, leading his war-steed. At once Sir Otto recognised
the same foaming charger, with the silver head-gear, which he had long
ago seen on the level meadows under the castle of Trautwangen; and it
seemed as if, in a fairy-dream, the apparitions of his early youth
were once more assembled around him. Meanwhile Sir Archimbald had
given orders to his squires, that they should cut down trees and green
branches, of which they were to make two biers,--one for the dead, and
another for the wounded knight, Otto von Trautwangen. At the same time
he sent out a messenger to the fortress of Waldeck, to make known their
speedy arrival, and announce to Hildiridur her son’s rescue.
During all these occurrences, Gerda had stood timidly retired among
the thickets, till at length she lifted up her voice, and said, in
a mournful tone, “Alas! might I not go with you?” “Wherefore not?”
said Sir Archimbald kindly, and as if moved by her grief; “thou shalt
indeed travel with us; only there are three conditions that I have in
the first place to propose, and these are of no little importance.”
“Tell me then what they are,” said Gerda; “for know that I am able to
do much for thy sake!” “Well,” said the count, “in the first place,
thou shalt make a solemn vow never more in our good realm of Saxony to
use enchantment or invocation of evil spirits.” “This promise or vow I
shall make right willingly,” said Gerda, at the same time laying her
beautiful white hand on the iron-glove of Sir Archimbald. “Alas!” said
the knight, “thy promises are indeed courteous and well-sounding; but
who can say if we dare trust to thy words?” Thereupon Gerda unbound her
long hair, so that her glossy yellow locks fell like a golden garment
around her, and Sir Otto had almost inquired of the sea-monarch,
whether this were not Sigurd’s daughter, the far-famed Aslauga; for as
the enchantress stood thus before him with her dishevelled ringlets,
the old legends that he had heard from Asmundur mingled strangely with
his feverish dreams. There was no time left for questions, however; for
the damsel began to wave her enchanting rod over her head: then she
uttered a long musical address to the world of spirits; in her song
she admonished them, that from henceforward they were free to wander
at will by sea or land, by fire or by flood; for she had abdicated her
throne, and renounced her dominion. With these words she broke her
sceptre of medlar-tree; the fragments flew asunder, as if borne by
all the four winds of heaven; and there was a wondrous rustling and
murmuring both on the earth and in the sky, as if great multitudes
were dispersing angrily and discontented. When this noise had past
away, Gerda said to Sir Archimbald, “Now, indeed, the interval would
be long ere I dared to think again of my wonted enchantments; for if I
sought to lay new bonds on the slaves whom I have thus dismissed, they
would not fail to turn round and rend me in pieces. So thou hast now
before thee a damsel even as weak and powerless as any one that could
be found in the world.” “In this action thou hast been too rash,” said
Sir Archimbald; “for now thou can’st never fulfil the second condition
that I had to propose. This was, that the altar of Freia should be
destroyed, and all the vaulted caverns, with the subterraneous fortress
and its iron-bridge, should be laid in ruins.” “As for that conclusion,
thou need’st not fear,” said Gerda; “without my commands their
destruction will soon follow; the altar is already tottering on its
foundation, and has been upheld so long but by my powerful spells. If
Kolbein has succeeded in finding an outlet, (for Ottur is on a distant
campaign,) then immediately the whole fabric, both above and below
ground, will fall to ruin. Mark you, the work already has begun!”
In truth there was at that moment heard beneath them a crashing sound,
like that of falling rocks and pillars, as if the very foundations
of the earth were giving way. The knights looked astonished at each
other; even Sir Otto was startled, and half raised himself up. “Fear
not,” said Gerda, “the ground on which we stand is firm and secure;
only my grand vaulted roof and my fortress are destroyed, and the
power of Gerda is established against mine: let no one go too near the
altar, however, for there he might indeed run some risk.” Not long
after, while the subterraneous thunder still continued, lo! the stones
of the altar began to move and roll asunder, as if they had now been
changed into living beings, and fled terrified from some danger that
awaited them. All at once, indeed, the bottomless abyss beneath them
opened its yawning jaws; with a hideous crash they fell into the chasm;
blue flames rose flickering over them, and after a space they too
disappeared. “These,” said Gerda, “were the souls of the unfortunate
victims who were of old times offered up in sacrifice at this altar;
not indeed of all the victims, but of those only who did not meet their
fate with courage and resignation.”
“Truly, however,” added she, with a sigh, “I am not to blame for
this; nor have I ever offered to the invisible powers such frightful
sacrifices; and many hundred years have passed away since their blood
was shed.” “Who could suppose that one so beautiful as thou art would
command such horrid deeds?” said Sir Archimbald. “Thou shalt indeed
go with us on our route homewards; only the third condition that I
had to impose is yet to be fulfilled.” With these words he drew his
battle-sword, and struck it into the ground.
“Lo!” said he, “there is the sacred symbol of the cross. Kneel down
before it, and pray to the Giver of all Good!”
Hereupon Gerda started back, shuddering with terror, and, without
uttering a word, vanished away into the thickets. “From mine inmost
heart I am grieved for that damsel,” said Sir Archimbald, as he
replaced his sword in the scabbard. Then perceiving that the squires
were ready with the biers, he gently placed the wounded Sir Otto on one
of them, and covered him carefully with a mantle. Thereafter a horse
was provided for the sea-monarch; and their march began slowly and
solemnly down towards the plains, where stood the proud castle of De
Waldeck.