Theodoric the Goth Part 19

Eleven days and eleven nights had he been riding, and at length being weary had laid him down to rest, when that foul monster stole upon him in his sleep, and first robbing him of his shield, had then opened its mouth to swallow him up and bear him away.

Then Theodoric made himself known to Sintram, who pleaded earnestly that his faithful sword might be restored to him. Great was the joy when the heroes were made known one to another. And so Sintram became one of Theodoric's henchmen, and served him long and faithfully.

Thus pa.s.sed the youth of Theodoric--

"When every morning brought a n.o.ble chance.

And every chance brought out a n.o.ble knight".

Ere many years were gone King Dietmar died, having scarcely reached middle age, and Theodoric succeeded him in the kingdom. And he was the most renowned amongst princes; his fame spread wide and far over the whole world, and his name will abide and never be forgotten in all the lands of the South so long as the world shall endure. After he had reigned some years, he willed to marry, and having heard of the fame of the beautiful Princess Hilda, daughter of Arthur, King of Britain, he sent his sister's son, Herbart, to ask for the maiden's hand. King Arthur liked not that Theodoric should not have come himself to urge his suit, and he would not suffer Herbart to have speech of the princess; but Herbart, who was a goodly youth and a brave knight, pleased Arthur well, and he kept him at his court and made him his seneschal. Now the Lady Hilda was so closely guarded that no stranger might see her face.

She never walked abroad, except when she went to the church, and then twelve counts walked on either side holding up her girdle, and twelve monks followed after, bearing her train, and twelve great Earls, in coats of mail, with helmet and sword and shield, brought up the rear, and looked terrible things on any man who should be bold enough to try to speak with her. And over her head was a canopy, in which the plumes of two great peac.o.c.ks shielded her beautiful face from the rays of the sun. Thus went the Lady Hilda to the place of prayer.

Now Herbart had waited many days, and had never caught sight of the princess; but at length there was a great church festival, and she went, thus magnificently attended, to perform her devotions. But neither on the road nor yet in the church could Herbart see her face. But he had prepared two mice, one adorned with gold and one with silver, and he took out first one and then the other, and they ran to where the princess was sitting. Each time she looked up to see the mouse running, and each time he saw her beautiful face, and she saw that he beheld her, and signals pa.s.sed between them. Then she sent her maid to ask him of his name and parentage, and he said: "I am Herbart, nephew of Theodoric of Verona, and I crave an interview, that I may tell mine errand to thy mistress". When they met outside the church porch, he had only time to ask the princess to arrange that he might have longer speech of her, when a monk, one of her twelve watchers, came by and asked him how he, a foreigner, could be so bold as to speak with the princess. But Herbart took the monk by the beard and shook him so violently that all his teeth rattled, and told him that he would teach him once for all how to behave to strangers.

That evening the princess asked her father at the banquet to let her have whatever she should desire, and he, for his heart was merry with wine, consented to her prayer. Then she asked that Herbart, his handsome seneschal, might be her servant, and King Arthur, though loath to part with him, for his honour's sake granted her request. Thereupon Herbart sent back half of the knights who had accompanied him from Verona to tell Theodoric that he had seen Hilda and spoken with her, and that she was the fairest of women. Glad at heart was Theodork when he heard these tidings.

And now Herbart had speech often with his mistress, and began to tell her of his errand and to urge his uncle's suit. But she said, "What manner of man is Theodoric of Verona?" "Greatest of all heroes", said Herbart, "and kindest and most generous of men; and if thou wilt be his wedded wife thou shalt have no lack of gold or silver or jewels". She said, "Canst thou draw his face upon this wall?" "Yea", answered he, "and so that every one seeing it would say, 'That is the face of King Theodoric.'" Then he drew a great, grim face on the wall, and said: "Lady, that is he; only, G.o.d help me! he is far more terrible-looking than that". Thereupon she thought, "G.o.d cannot be so wroth with me as to destine me for that monster". And she looked up and said, "Sir! why dost thou ask for my hand for Theodoric, of Verona, and not for thyself?" He answered: "I was bound to fulfil the message of my lord; but if thou wilt have me, who am of the seed of kings, though I am not a king myself, gladly will I be thy husband, and neither King Arthur nor King Theodoric nor all their men shall part us twain".

So the two plighted troth to one another, Herbart and Hilda: and watching their opportunity they stole away on horseback from the castle.

King Arthur sent after them thirty knights and thirty squires, with orders to slay Herbart and to bring Hilda back again; but Herbart defended himself like a hero, killing twelve knights and fourteen squires: and the rest fled back to the castle. Herbart, though sore wounded, mounted his steed and escaped with his wife to the dominions of a certain king, who received him graciously, and made him duke, and gave him broad lands. And he became a great warrior and did mighty deeds.

After this Theodoric married the eldest of the nine fair princesses of Drachenfels, for the love of whom he had fought with the strong man Ecke. The name of Theodoric's wife was Gudelinda. Two of her sisters were married to two of Theodoric's men, namely, to Fasold, and the merry rogue and stout warrior, Dietleib,[165] whose laughter-moving adventures I have here no room to chronicle. And the mother, Bolfriana, who was fairest of all the race, was wooed and won by Witig. But this marriage, which Theodoric furthered with all his power, brought ill with it in the end and the separation of tried friends. For, in order to marry Bolfriana and receive the lordship of her domains, Witig was obliged to enter Hermanric's service and become his man. And though Hermanric promoted him to great honour and made him a count, this was but a poor amends for the necessity which, as you shall soon hear, lay upon Witig, to lift up his sword against his former master.

[Footnote 165: Some of these adventures remind us of the story of the kitchen-knave as told in Tennyson's Gareth and Lynette.]

Now, Hermanric, as has been said, was sovereign lord of Rome and of many other fair lands beside: and all kings and dukes to the south of the great mountains served him, and, as it seems, even Theodoric himself owned him as over-lord, and he was by far the greatest potentate in the south of Europe. For the Emperor himself then ruled only over Bulgaria and Greece, while King Hermanric's dominions included all that lay west of the Sea of Adria.

Till this time Theodoric and his uncle, Hermanric, had been good friends. The young hero had visited the older one at Romaborg, and they had fought side by side against their enemies. But now came a disastrous change, which made Theodoric a wanderer from his home for many years; and this was all the work of that false traitor, Hermanric's chief counsellor, Sibich.[166] For Sibich's honour as a husband had been stained by his lord while he himself was absent on an emba.s.sy; but instead of avenging himself with his own right hand on the adulterous king, he planned a cruel and wide-reaching scheme of vengeance which should embrace all the kindred of the wrong-doer. Of Hermanric's three sons he caused that the eldest should be sent on an emba.s.sy to Wilkina-land[167] demanding tribute from the king of that country, and should be slain there by an accomplice; that the second should be sent on a like emba.s.sy to England, and sailing in a leaky ship, should be swallowed up by the waves; and that the youngest should be slain by his father in a fit of rage provoked by the slanderous accusations of Sibich. Then he set Hermanric against his nephews, the Harlungs, sons of his half-brother, Ak; and these hapless young men were besieged in their Rhine-land castle, to which Hermanric set fire, and issuing forth, sword in hand, that they might not die like rats in a hole, were captured and hung by their enraged uncle on the highest tree in their own domains. So was all the family of Hermanric destroyed except Theodoric and his young brother Diether: and against Theodoric Sibich now began to ply his engines of calumny. He represented to Hermanric that Theodoric's kingdom had for some time been growing large, while his own had been growing smaller, and hinted that soon Theodoric would openly attack his uncle. Meanwhile, and in order to test his peaceable disposition, Hermanric, by Sibich's advice, claimed that he should pay him tribute for Amalungen-land.[168] When Theodoric refused to do this Hermanric was persuaded of the truth of Sibich's words, and declared that Theodoric also should be hanged, "for right well do both he and I know which of us is the mightier".

[Footnote 166: In the Norse Siska, sometimes Bicki.]

[Footnote 167: Norway.]

[Footnote 168: Perhaps North Italy.]

Witig and Heime, who were now at Hermanric's court, when they heard these wrathful words, tried in vain to abate the fury of the king and to open his eyes to Sibich's falseness; but as they availed nothing, they mounted their horses and rode with all speed to Verona. At midnight they reached the city and told Theodoric the evil tidings, that on the next day Hermanric would burst upon him with overwhelming force determined to slay him. Then Theodoric went into his great hall of audience and bade the horns blow to summon all his counsellors and men of war to a meeting there in the dead of night. He told them all the tidings that Witig had brought and asked their counsel, whether it were better to stay in Verona and die fighting--for of successful resistance to such a force there was no hope--or to bow for a while to the storm and fleeing from the home-land seek shelter at some foreign court. Master Hildebrand advised, and all were of his opinion, that it was better to flee, and that with all speed, before morning dawned. Scarcely had Hildebrand's words been spoken, when there arose a great sound of lamentation in Verona, women and children bewailing that their husbands and fathers were about to leave them, brothers parting from brothers and friends from friends. And with all this, in the streets the neighing of horses, and the clank of arms, as the warriors, hastily aroused, prepared themselves for their midnight march.

So Theodoric, with the knights his companions, rode away from Verona, which Hermanric entered next morning with five thousand men. And Theodoric rode first to Bacharach[169] on the Rhine, where dwelt the great Margrave, Rudiger, who was his trusty friend. And from thence he rode on to Susat,[170] where was the palace of Attila, King of the Huns.

And when Attila heard that Theodoric was coming, he bade his men blow the great horns, and with all his chieftains he poured forth to welcome him and do him honour. So Theodoric tarried in the palace of Attila, a cherished and trusted guest, and there he abode many years.

[Footnote 169: Bakalar or Bechelaren.]

[Footnote 170: Susat is identified with Soest in Westphalia, an allocation which is doubtless due to the region in which "Wilkina Saga"

was committed to writing (the neighbourhood of Mnster and Bremen). The geographical conditions of the story would be better suited by Buda on the Danube, which would, of course, be nearer to historical fact.]

Now King Attila had long wars to wage with his neighbours on the north and east of Hun-land. These were three brothers, mighty princes, Osantrix, king of Wilkina-land (Norway and Sweden) whose daughter Attila had married, and Waldemai, king of Russia and Poland, and Ilias, Earl of Greece, With all Attila waged war, but longest and hardest with Waldemar. And in all these encounters Theodoric and his Amalung knights were ever foremost in the fray and last to retreat, whilst Attila and his Huns fled often early from the battle-field, leaving the Amalungs surrounded by their foes. Thus, once upon a time, Theodoric and Master Hildebrand, with five hundred men, were surrounded in a fortress in the heart of Russia: and they suffered dire famine ere King Attila, earnestly entreated, came to their rescue. And Master Hildebrand said to the good knight, Rudiger, who had been foremost in pressing on to deliver them, "I am now an hundred years old and never have I been in such sore need as this day. We had five hundred men and five hundred horses, and seven only of the horses are left which we have not killed and eaten".

In this campaign Theodoric took prisoner his namesake, Theodoric, the son of Waldemar, and handed him over into the keeping of his good host and ally, King Attila. By him the captive was at first thrown into a dreary dungeon, and no care was taken of his many wounds. But Erka, the queen of the Huns, who was a cousin of Theodoric, son of Waldemar, besought her husband that she might be allowed to take him out of prison and bring him to the palace and heal his wounds. "If he is healed, he will certainly escape", said Attila. "If I may only heal him", said Erka, "I will put my life on the hazard that he shall not escape". "Be it so", said Attila, who was going on another campaign into fat Russia: "If when I return I find that the son of Waldemar has escaped, doubt not that I will strike off thy head".

Then Attila rode forth to war, and Erica commanded that Theodoric, the son of Waldemar, should be brought into the palace, and every day she had dainty dishes set before him, and provided him with warm baths, and delighted his soul with gifts of jewels. But Theodoric of Verona, who was also sore wounded, was left under the care of an ignorant and idle nurse, and his wounds were not tended, and were like to become gangrened. So before many days were pa.s.sed, the son of Waldemar was again whole, and clothed him with his coat and greaves of mail and put his shining helmet on his head, and mounted his horse and rode from the palace. Queen Erka implored him to stay, saying that her head was the pledge of his abiding; but he answered that he had been all too long already in Hun-land, and would ride forth to his own country. Then the queen, in her terror and despair, sought Theodoric of Verona, where he lay in his ungarnished chamber with his gangrened wounds; and he, though he could not forbear to reproach her for her little kindness to him, and though his wounds made riding grievous and fighting well-nigh impossible, yet yielded to her prayers and tears, and rode forth after the son of Waldemar. Striking spurs into the good steed Falke, he rode fast and far, and came up at length with the fugitive. "Return", he cried, "for the life's sake of thy cousin, Erka; and she and I together will reconcile thee to Attila, and I will give thee silver and gold".

But Waldemar's son utterly refused to return and to be reconciled with either of his enemies, and scoffed at the foul wounds of his namesake.

"If thou wilt not return for silver and gold, nor to save the life of thy cousin, Erka, thou shalt stay for thine own honour's sake, for I challenge thee here to combat; and never shalt thou be called aught but a 'Nithing' if thou ridest away when challenged by one wounded man". At these words the son of Waldemar had no choice but to stay and fight. The battle was long and desperate, and once both champions, sore weary, leaned upon their shields and rested a s.p.a.ce, while he of Verona in vain renewed to the son of Waldemar his offers of peace and friendship; but the combat began again with fury, and at last, with one mighty sword-stroke, Theodoric of Verona struck the right side of the neck of the other Theodoric so that his head rolled off on the left side, and the victor rode back to Susat with that trophy at his saddle-bow. Queen Erka, when her cousin's head was thrown by Theodoric at her feet, wept and bitterly lamented that so many of her kindred should lose their lives for her sake.

At length, after many days, Theodoric was healed of his wounds, and went with Attila on one more expedition into Russia, in the course of which they took the cities of Smolensko and Pultowa, and Theodoric slew King Waldemar on the battle-field.

And now had Theodoric been twenty winters in Hun-land. He had fought in many great battles, and had gained broad lands for his host-friend, Attila. His young brother, Diether, who had been brought as a babe from Verona, had grown into a goodly stripling; and the two sons of Attila, Erp and Ortwin, who had grown up with him, loved him as a brother; and Erka, their mother, loved Diether as her own son. Great, too, was the reverence shown to Theodoric, who sat at the high-seat by the side of Attila, and was honoured as his chief counsellor and friend.

But Theodoric's heart pined for his home and his lost kingdom, and one day he sought the presence of Queen Erka and poured out the longings of his soul. "Good friend, Theodoric", said she, "I will be the first to aid thee in thine endeavour. I will send with thee my two sons, Erp and Ortwin, and a thousand well-armed knights. And now will I seek Attila, my lord, and adjure him to help thee". Attila at first took it ill that Theodoric came not himself to urge his suit, but when Erka had persuaded him that it was not from pride but from modesty that he made the request through her, and when she said that she was willing to send her own sons into danger for his sake, Attila gladly yielded, and bade his trusty friend Rudiger, with a body of chosen knights, accompany Theodoric and his exiled followers back to their own land.

Then Queen Erka called her two sons to her and showed them the coats of mail and the greaves of mail, bright as silver and of hardest steel, but embellished with ruddy gold, and the helmets and the thick red shields that she had prepared for their first day of battle. "Now be brave", said she, weeping, "oh, fair sons of mine, even as your arms are strong: for great as is my longing that you return in safety to my embraces, I long yet more that all men should say that you bore yourselves as brave men and heroes in the fight". And then she armed Diether in like manner, and said: "Dear foster-son, behold here my sons Erp and Ortwin, whom I have armed for war to help thee and Theodoric in the recovery of your kingdom. You three youths, who are now here, have loved one another so dearly that never were you in any game in which you could not be on the same side and give one another help. Now you ride forth to war for the first time: keep well together and help one another in this great game on which you are now entering". "May G.o.d help me, dear lady", said Diether, "that I may bring back both thy sons safe and sound; but if they fall in the storm of war, I will not live to tell the tale".

Of the clang of iron and steel in all the armourers' shops at Susat, of the stillness which fell upon the shouting host when Attila, from a high tower, gave his orders to the army, of the setting forth of the gallant band, ten thousand knights with many followers, it needs not to be told at length. Enough, they crossed the mountains and entered the land that had been theirs; and Theodoric, to take no unknightly advantage of his foe, sent messengers to Rome to apprise Hermanric of his coming and challenge him to battle outside the walls of Ravenna. [171]

[Footnote 171: I here deviate from the text of the "Wilkina-Saga", which puts the battle-field at Grnsport on the banks of the Moselle. This is evidently due to the influence of the Mnster and Bremen traditions,]

Hermanric, too old to go forth himself to war, gave the chief command to the false counsellor, Sibich. Under him were Reinald and Witig, both of whom had been friends and comrades of Theodoric in times past, and were most unwilling to fight against him, though thirsting for battle with any number of Huns. It was appointed, therefore, that Sibich, bearing Hermanric's banner, should fight against Theodoric and his Amalungs, Reinald against the gallant Rudiger, and Witig against the two sons of Attila. The whole army of Hermanric numbered seventeen thousand men. And now were the two armies drawn up on the opposite banks of a river, and it was the night before the battle. Master Hildebrand, desiring to learn the position of the enemy, rode some way up the stream till he found a ford by which he crossed to the other side. It was so dark that he had almost ridden up against another knight coming in the opposite direction, before either perceived the other. Dark as it was they soon recognised one another by their voices, though they had not met for twenty years. The stranger was Reinald, who had come forth on the same errand as Hildebrand. No blows were fought; only friendly words were exchanged, with lamentations over this miserable war between the brother Amalungs, and curses on the false Sibich, whose intrigues had brought it to pa.s.s. Then the moon shone forth, and Reinald showed Hildebrand from afar the great yellow tent with three golden tufts where the traitor Sibich was sleeping; and the green tent with the silver tuft in which Witig and his Amalungs were dreaming of battle with the Huns; and the black tent, then empty of its lord, that was the tent of Reinald himself. And Hildebrand told Reinald the ordering of the troops of Theodoric, showing him Theodoric's tent with five poles and a golden tuft, and the tent of the sons of Attila, made of red silk with nine poles and nine tufts of gold; and the green tent of Margrave Rudiger.

Then the two warriors kissed each other and wished one another well through the day of battle, and so they parted. And when Reinald, returning to the camp, told whom he had met, Sibich wished to send him to slay Master Hildebrand before he returned to his friends. But Reinald would in no wise permit so unknightly a deed, saying that Sibich must first slay him and all his friends ere such a thing should befall.

When day dawned Theodoric set forward his array and bade all his trumpets blow. They rode up the stream to the ford which Hildebrand had discovered the night before, and crossed thereby. And Sibich and Witig, seeing them approach, sounded their trumpets and marshalled their men.

Theodoric, seeing the false Sibich's banner waving, cried to his followers: "Forward, my men! Strike this day with all your courage and knighthood. Ye have striven often against the Russians and the Wilkina-men, and have mostly gotten the victory; but now in this strife we fight for our own land and realm, and for the deathless glory that will be ours if we win our land back again". Then he spurred his brave old steed Falke through the thickest ranks of the enemy, raising ever and anon his good sword Ecke-sax and letting it fall, with every blow felling a warrior or his horse to the ground. Likewise his brave standard-bearer Wildeber, who went before him, hewed down the ranks of the foe. Against him came Walter, Sibich's standard-bearer, who rode in hero-mood towards him, and aiming the banner-staff full against his breast, pierced him through, the staff coming out through his shoulders.

But Wildeber, though wounded to the death, lopped off with his sword the end of the banner-staff, and then riding fiercely at Walter struck him on his thigh so terrible a blow that the sword cut right through the coat of mail and stuck fast in the saddle below. Then did both the standard-bearers fall from their horses and lie dead on the field side by side.

When Sibich saw his standard droop and the brave knight Walter fall, he turned his horse and fled from the field, and all his division of the army with him. Theodoric and his men rode after them fast and far, and wrought dire havoc among them, but when Theodoric was miles away from the battle-plain he was overtaken by one of his men, his horse all covered with foam, who brought him evil tidings from another part of the field.

For Witig, when he saw the flight of Sibich, not terrified but all the more enraged, had ridden fiercely towards the place where the banner of Attila's sons was waving and had struck down their standard-bearer.

"Seest thou", said Ortwin to Helfric, his sworn henchman, "what evil that base dog, Witig, is doing? He has slain our brave standard-bearer; let us ride up to him and stop his deadly work". So spake Ortwin, but in the fierce fray that followed both he and his good comrade Helfric, and then his brother Erp, fell dead around Witig and his standard-bearer.

Oh! then, great was the wrath of the young Diether--who meanwhile had fought and killed the standard-bearer of Witig--when he saw both of his foster-brothers slain. Eager to avenge them, he struck oft and hard at Witig's armour. "Art thou Diether, King Theodoric's brother?" cried Witig; "for his sake I am loth to do thee any hurt. Ride away and fight with some other man". "Since my young lords Erp and Ortwin are dead, and thou, base hound, hast slain them, I care not for my life unless I can have thine". So said Diether, and struck with all his might on Witig's helmet. The helmet, of hardest steel, resisted the blow, but the sword, glancing off, descended on the neck of Witig's war-horse, Schimming, and severed its head from its body. "G.o.d knows", cried Witig, as he sprang to earth, "that I fight now but to save mine own life". And with that he grasped the handle of his sword Mimung with both hands and struck Diether so terrible a blow that he clove his body in twain.

These were the tidings which the breathless knight brought to Theodoric and which stayed him in his pursuit of the fugitives. "Ah! how have I sinned", said he "that so evil a day should come upon me? Here am I untouched by a wound, but my dearest brother is dead and my two young lords also. Never may I now return to Hun-land, but here will I die or avenge them". And with that he turned and set spurs to Falke and rode so swiftly that none of his men could keep up with him; and so full was he of rage and fury that a hot breath, like sparks of fire, came forth from his mouth, and no living man might dare to stand before him. And when he reached Witig, who was riding Diether's horse, his own being slain, Witig, like all others turned to flee from that terrible countenance.

"Evil dog", cried Theodoric, "if thou hast any courage stand and wait till I come up to thee and avenge the death of my brother". "I slew him against my will". said Witig, "and because I had no other way to save my life; and if I can pay forfeit for his blood with any quant.i.ty of gold and silver, that will I gladly do". But still he fled as fast as his steed could carry him, down the course of a stream to where it poured itself into a lake, and still Theodoric rode after him. But when Theodoric hurled his spear, in that very moment Witig sank beneath the waters of the lake and the spear-shaft was driven deep into the sh.o.r.e, and there it may be seen to this day. But some men thought that Witig was received by a mermaid and kept hidden in her cave for many days. For his grandfather had been born long ago of this mermaid, having been begotten by Wilkinus, King of Norway.

So the battle had been won by Theodoric and his allies (for in other parts of the field the Margrave Rudiger had vanquished Reinald) yet was it a bootless victory by reason of the death of Attila's sons. And Theodoric, riding back to the battle-field, came where his brother Diether was lying; and lamented him saying: "There liest thou; my brother Diether. This is the greatest sorrow that has befallen me, that thou art thus untimely slain". And then he came to the place where lay the young princes, with their stout coats of mail and their strong helmets, which had not been able to save them from death, and he said: "Dear young lords, this is the greatest of my sorrows that I have lost you; and how shall I now return to Susat? G.o.d knows that I would gladly have many a gaping wound, if only you might be whole again". Then he bade Rudiger lead back the army to its king, for he would neither claim his own kingdom nor return to the palace of Susat, after he had cost Attila the lives of so many brave knights and of his own sons. So Rudiger returned to the palace, but Theodoric and Master Hildebrand dwelt in a little hut in the neighbourhood of the city of Susat.

When Rudiger stood in the presence of Attila, who asked him of the welfare of Theodoric and of the host, he made answer: "King Theodoric lives, and the Huns have been conquerors in the battle, yet have we had evil fortune, since we have lost the young lords, Erp and Ortwin". Then Queen Erka and almost all who were in the palace-hall lifted up their voices and wept. And Rudiger told Attila how Diether and many another brave knight had fallen in the battle. But Attila answered with steadfast soul: "It has happened now as it ever does. They fall in the fight for whom it is so appointed, and neither mail nor muscle avails them anything. My sons Erp and Ortwin and their foster-brother Diether had the best arms that could be fashioned in the smithy, yet there they all lie dead". And after a s.p.a.ce he added: "Where is my good friend, King Theodoric?" "He and Master Hildebrand are sitting together in a mean hut, and they have laid their arms aside and dare not come into thy presence, O King! because they have lost the young lords". Then Attila sent two knights to beg Theodoric to come into his presence, but he would not for grief and shame. Then Queen Erka rose up weeping and went with her maidens to the cottage where Theodoric abode: and when she entered it she said: "My good friend, Theodoric! how did my sons fare in the war, and fought they as good knights ere they fell?" But Theodoric, with mournful face, answered: "Lady! they fought as good knights and parried the blows bravely, and neither of them would part from the other". And with that she went up to him and threw her arms round his neck and said: "Good friend! King Theodoric! come now into the palace-hall to King Attila, and take thy welcome there, and be merry once more. Often before now have the brave men for whom it was appointed, fallen in the battle; and they who live still must take thought for themselves, since it profits not to be ever bewailing the dead". So Theodoric went with the queen into the palace-hall, and Attila stood up and gave him a kiss of welcome and bade him sit beside him on the high-seat. Thus he returned to Attila's palace, where he dwelt for yet many years, and all was friendship between them as before.

Two years after this Queen Erka fell sick of a grievous disease and lay at the point of death. Sending for Theodoric, she rehea.r.s.ed to him how he had ever been the best friend of her husband and herself; and as it might well happen that this sickness would sever that long friendship, she desired to give him fifteen marks of red gold in a beaker and a costly purple robe, as memorials of the same, and she prayed him to take her young kinswoman, Herauda,[172] to wife. Theodoric said: "Good lady and queen! thy sickness is doubtless a dangerous one. True friendship hast thou ever shown to me and mine; and better it were for Attila to lose the half of his kingdom than to lose thee". Thereat he wept like a child and could say no more words, but went quickly forth of the chamber.

[Footnote 172: Or Herrat.]

Then Erka desired to see her dear friend, Master Hildebrand, and spake to him too of the true friendship which was now about to be severed, in remembrance whereof she gave him a ring of gold. And then sending for Attila she spake to him of her coming death. "Thus wilt thou become a widower", said she, "but so thou wilt not long remain. Choose, therefore, a good and loving wife, for if thou choosest a wicked woman she may work much harm to thee and many others beside. Good King Attila!

take no wife out of Nibelungen-land, nor from the race of Aldrian, for if thou dost, thou wilt sorely repent of it, and harm unspeakable will be wrought to thee and the children whom she may bear thee". Soon after she had spoken these words, she gave up the ghost; and great was the lamentation in all Hun-land when they heard that the good Queen Erka was no more in life.

The warning given by the dying queen was, like most such warnings, unheeded. After three years of widowerhood, Attila sent one of his nephews into Nibelungen-land[173] to ask for the hand of Chriemhild,[174] daughter of Aldrian, loveliest and wisest of the women of her time; but maddened by secret grief for the loss of her first husband, Siegfried,[175] who had been slain by her brothers, Hagen[176]

and King Gunther. The suit prospered; with strange blindness of heart, King Gunther gave his consent to the union of the sister who was his deadliest enemy with the mightiest king in Europe. For seven years Chriemhild waited for her revenge; then came that invitation to the Nibelungs to visit the court of Attila, which, in the infatuation of their souls, King Gunther and his brethren accepted, taking with them a chosen band of a thousand warriors. The scheme of vengeance prepared by Chriemhild, the quarrel which she provoked at the banquet, the terrible slaughter suffered and inflicted by the Nibelungs in the palace garden, their desperate rush into the palace-hall, the stand made therein by their ever-dwindling band on the pavement which was slippery with the gore of heroes--all this has been sung by a hundred minstrels, and need not here be repeated. We have only to do with the share Theodoric and his friends took in the fatal combat. Long the Amalungs stood utterly aloof from the fray, grieving sorely that so many of their friends on both sides were falling by one another's hands. For to the Nibelungs, as well as to Attila and the Huns, were they bound by the ties of guest-friendship, and in happier days Theodoric had ridden with Gunther and with Hagen, to test the mettle of their knights against the chivalry of Britain. So Theodoric and his men stood on the battlement of his palace, which looked down on the garden of Attila, and watched from afar the ghastly conflict. But at length they saw the good Margrave Rudiger, the ally of the Amals on so many a hard-fought battle-field, fall by the hand of his own daughter's husband, the young prince, Giselher; and then could Theodoric bear it no longer, but cried, saying: "Now is my best friend, Margrave Rudiger, dead. Take your weapons, comrades, and let us avenge his fall". He descended into the street. He forced his way into the palace-hall. Terrible was the clang of the strong sword Ecke-sax on the helmets of the Nibelungs. Many of them fell before him, but alas!

many of his faithful Amals fell there also, far from their home. At length, in all that stately palace-hall, there remained but four men still able to deal blows, and these were Theodoric and Master Hildebrand of the Amalungs, Hagen and Giselher of their foes. And Hagen stood up to fight with Theodoric, and Giselher with Hildebrand. Then, as King Attila came from his tower to watch the combat, Hagen shouted to him: "It were a knightly deed to let young Giselher go unhurt, for he is innocent of the death of Siegfried the Swift". "Yea, truly", said Giselher; "Chriemhild, my sister, knows that I was a little child of five years old in my mother's bed when her husband was killed. I am innocent of this blood-feud, yet care I not to live now that my brethren are slain". Therewith he closed in fight with Master Hildebrand, and soon received his death-wound from the old hero.

[Footnote 173: Burgundy.]

[Footnote 174: In the "Wilkina-Saga", Grimhild.]