Thirty-First Adventure — How the Burgundians Went to Church
“My harness is grown so cold,” said Folker, “that I ween the night is far spent. I feel, by the air, that it will soon be day.”
Then they waked the knights that still slept.
The bright morning shone in on the warriors in the hall, and Hagen began to ask them if they would go to the minster to hear mass. The bells were ringing according to Christian custom.
The folk sang out of tune: it was not mickle wonder, when Christian and heathen sang together. Gunther’s men were minded to go to church, and rose from their beds. They did on their fine apparel—never knights brought goodlier weed into any king’s land. But Hagen was wroth, and said, “Ye did better to wear other raiment. Ye know how it standeth with us here. Instead of roses, bear weapons in your hands, and instead of jewelled caps, bright helmets. Of wicked Kriemhild’s mood we are well aware. I tell you there will be fighting this day. For your silken tunics wear your hauberks, and good broad shields for rich mantels, that, if any fall on you, ye may be ready. My masters dear, my kinsmen, and my men, go to the church and bewail your sorrow and your need before great God, for know, of a surety, that death draweth nigh. Forget not wherein ye have sinned, and stand humbly before your Maker. Be warned, most noble knights. If God in Heaven help you not, ye will hear mass no more.”
So the kings and their men went to the minster. Hagen bade them pause in the churchyard, that they might not be parted. He said, “None knoweth yet what the Huns may attempt on us. Lay your shields at your feet, my friends, and if any give you hostile greeting, answer him with deep wounds and deadly. That is Hagen’s counsel, that ye may be found ready, as beseemeth you.”
Folker and Hagen went and stood before the great minster. They did this, that the queen might be forced to push past them. Right grim was their mood.
Then came the king and his beautiful wife. Her body was adorned with rich apparel, and the knights in her train were featly clad. The dust rose high before the queen’s attendants.
When the rich king saw the princes and their followers armed, he said hastily, “Why go my friends armed? By my troth it would grieve me if any had done aught to them. I will make it good to them on any wise they ask it. Hath any troubled their hearts, he shall feel my displeasure. Whatso they demand of me I will do.”
Hagen answered, “None hath wrought us annoy. It is the custom of my masters to go armed at all hightides for full three days. If any did us a mischief, Etzel should hear thereof.”
Right well Kriemhild heard Hagen’s words. She looked at him from under her eyelids with bitter hate. Yet she told not the custom of her land, albeit she knew it well from aforetime. Howso grim and deadly the queen’s anger was, none had told Etzel how it stood, else he had hindered what afterward befell. They scorned, through pride, to tell their wrong.
The queen advanced with a great crowd of folk, but the twain moved not two hands’ breadth, whereat the Huns were wroth, for they had to press past the heroes. This pleased not Etzel’s chamberlains, and they had gladly quarrelled with them, had they dared before the king. There was much jostling, and nothing more.
When the mass was over, many a Hun sprang to horse. With Kriemhild were also many beautiful maidens. Kriemhild sat by Etzel at a window with her women, to see the bold warriors ride, the which the king loved to do. Ha! many a stranger knight spurred below in the court!
The marshal brought out the horses. Bold Dankwart had gathered together his master’s followers from Burgundy. Well-saddled horses were led up for the Nibelungs. When the kings and their men were mounted, Folker counselled them to joust after the fashion of their country. Full knightly they rode in the tourney. The counsel was welcome to all, and a mighty din and clang of arms soon arose in the great tilt-yard, while Etzel and Kriemhild looked on.
Sixty of Dietrich’s knights spurred forward to meet the strangers. They were eager for the onset, had Dietrich allowed it, for goodly men were his. But it irked him when he heard thereof, and forbade them to cross lances with Gunther’s warriors. He feared it might go hard with his knights.
When the knights of Bern were gone out of the yard, five hundred of Rudeger’s men of Bechlaren rode up before the castle, with their shields. The Margrave had been better pleased if they had stayed away. He pressed through the crowd, and said to them that they themselves knew how that Gunther’s men were wroth, and that he would have them quit the tourney.
When these also had gone back, they say that the knights of Thüringen and a thousand bold Danes rode in. Then the splinters flew from the lances. Irnfried and Hawart rode into the tourney. The Rhinelanders met them proudly. They encountered the men of Thüringen in many a joust; pierced was many a shield.
Sir Blœdel came on with three thousand. Etzel and Kriemhild saw plainly all that passed below. The queen rejoiced, by reason of the hate she bare the Burgundians. She thought in her heart,—what happed or long—“If they wounded any, the sport might turn to a battle. I would fain be revenged on my foes; certes, it would not grieve me.”
Schrutan and Gibek came next, and Ramung and Hornbog, after the manner of the Huns. They all bare them boldly before the Burgundians. High over the king’s palace flew the splinters. Yet all they did was but empty sound. Gunther’s men made the house and the castle ring with the clash of shields. They won great honour. So keen was their pastime that the foot-cloths ran with the sweat of the horses, as they rode proudly against the Huns.
Then said stout Folker the fiddler, “These knights dare not confront us, I ween. I have heard that they hate us. They could not have a fitter time to prove it.”
“Lead the horses to their stalls,” said the king. “Toward evening ye may ride again, if there be time for it. Haply the queen may then give the prize to the Burgundians.”
At that moment a knight rode into the lists, prouder than any other Hun. Belike he had a dear one at the window. He was rich apparelled like a bride.
Folker said, “I cannot help it. Yonder woman’s darling must have a stroke. None shall hinder me. Let him look to his life. I care not how wroth Etzel’s wife may be.”
“Nay now, for my sake,” said the king. “The folk will blame us if we begin the fray. Let the Huns be the first. It were better so.”
Still Etzel sat by the queen.
“I will join thee in the tourney,” cried Hagen. “It were well that these women and these knights saw how we can ride. They give Gunther’s men scant praise.”
Bold Folker spurred back into the lists. Thereby many a woman won heart’s dole. He stabbed the proud Hun through the body with his spear. Many a maid and many a wife was yet to weep for it. Hagen and his sixty knights followed hard on the fiddler. Etzel and Kriemhild saw it all plain.
The three kings left not the doughty minstrel alone among his foemen. A thousand knights rode to the rescue. They were haughty and overweening, and did as they would.
When the proud Hun was slain, the sound of weeping and wailing rose from his kinsmen. All asked, “Who hath done it?” and got answer, “It was Folker, the bold fiddler.”
The friends of the Hunnish Margrave called straightway for their swords and their shields, that they might kill Folker. The host hasted from the window. There was a mighty uproar among the Huns. The kings and their followers alighted before the hall, and beat back their horses.
Then came Etzel and began to part the fray. He seized a sharp sword out of the hand of one of the Hun’s kinsmen that stood nigh, and thrust them all back. He was greatly wroth, “Ye would have me fail in honour toward these knights! If ye had slain this minstrel, I tell you I would have hanged you all. I marked him well when he slew the Hun, and saw that it was not with intent, but that his horse stumbled. Let my guests leave the tilt-yard in peace.”
He gave them escort, himself, and their horses were led to the stalls, for many varlets stood ready to serve them.
The host went with his guests into the palace, and bade the anger cease. They set the table, and brought water. The knights of the Rhine had stark foemen enow. Though it irked Etzel, many armed knights pressed in after the kings, when they went to table, by reason of their hate. They waited a chance to avenge their kinsman.
“Ye be too unmannerly,” said the host, “to sit down armed to eat. Whoso among you toucheth my guests shall pay for it with his head. I have spoken, O Huns.”
It was long or the knights were all seated. Bitter was Kriemhild’s wrath. She said, “Prince of Bern, I seek thy counsel and thy kind help in my sore need.”
But Hildebrand, the good knight, answered, “Who slayeth the Nibelungs shall do it without me; I care not what price thou offerest. None shall essay it but he shall rue it, for never yet have these doughty knights been vanquished.”
“I ask the death of none save Hagen, that hath wronged me. He slew Siegfried, my dear husband. He that chose him from among the others for vengeance should have my gold without stint. I were inly grieved did any suffer save Hagen.”
But Hildebrand answered, “How could one slay him alone? Thou canst see for thyself, that, if he be set upon, they will all to battle, and poor and rich alike must perish.”
Said Dietrich also, courteously, “Great queen, say no more. Thy kinsmen have done naught to me that I should defy them to the death. It is little to thine honour that thou wouldst compass the doom of thy kinsmen. They came hither under safe conduct, and not by the hand of Dietrich shall Siegfried be avenged.”
When she found no treachery in the knight of Bern, she tempted Blœdel with the promise of a goodly estate that had been Nudung’s. Dankwart slew him after, that he clean forgot the gift.
She said, “Help me, Sir Blœdel. In this house are the foes that slew Siegfried, my dear husband. If any avenge me, I will ever serve him.”
Blœdel, that sat by her, answered, “I dare not show thy kinsmen such hate, so long as my brother showeth them favour. The king would not forgive me if I defied them.”
“Nay now, Sir Blœdel, I will stand by thee, and give thee silver and gold for meed, and, thereto, a beautiful woman, the widow of Nudung, that thou mayest have her to thy dear one. I will give the all, land and castles, and thou shalt live joyfully with her on the march that was Nudung’s. In good sooth I will do what I promise.”
When Blœdel heard the fee, and because the woman pleased him for her fairness, he resolved to win her by battle. So came he to lose his life.
He said to the queen, “Go back into the hall. Or any is ware thereof, I will raise a great tumult. Hagen shall pay for what he hath done. I will bring thee King Gunther’s man bound.”
“Now arm ye, my men,” cried Blœdel, “and let us fall on the foemen in their lodging. King Etzel’s wife giveth me no peace, and at her bidding we must risk our lives.”
When the queen had left Blœdel to begin the strife, she went in to table with King Etzel and his men. She had woven an evil snare against the guests.
I will tell you how they went into the hall. Crowned kings went before her; many high princes and knights of worship attended the queen. Etzel assigned to all the guests their places, the highest and the best in the hall. Christians and heathens had their different meats, whereof they ate to the full; for so the wise king ordered it. The yeomen feasted in their own quarters, where sewers served them, that had been charged with the care of their food. But revel and merriment were soon turned to weeping.
Kriemhild’s old wrong lay buried in her heart, and when the strife could not be kindled otherwise, she bade them bring Etzel’s son to table. Did ever any woman so fearful a thing for vengeance?
Four of Etzel’s men went straightway and brought in Ortlieb, the young king, to the princes’ table, where Hagen also sat. Through his murderous hate the child perished.
When Etzel saw his son, he spake kindly to his wife’s brethren, “See now, my friends, that is my only son, and your sister’s child. Some day he will serve you well. If he take after his kin, he will be a valiant man, rich and right noble, stark and comely. If I live, I will give him the lordship of twelve countries. Fair service ye may yet have from young Ortlieb’s hand. Wherefore I pray ye, my dear friends, that, when ye ride back to the Rhine, ye take with you your sister’s son, and do well by the child. Rear him in honour till he be a man, and when he is full grown, if any harry your land, he will help you to avenge it.” Kriemhild, the wife of Etzel, heard all that the king said.
Hagen answered, “If he grow to be a man, he may well help these knights. But he hath a weakly look. Methinketh I shall seldom go to Ortlieb’s court.”
The king eyed Hagen sternly, for his word irked him. Albeit he answered not again, he was troubled, and heavy of his cheer. Hagen was no friend to merriment.
The king and his liegemen misliked sore what Hagen had said of the child, and were wroth that they must bear it. They knew not yet what the warrior was to do after. Not a few that heard it, and that bare him hate, had gladly fallen upon him: the king also, had not honour forbidden him. Ill had Hagen sped. Yet soon he did worse: he slew his child before his eyes.