Tale XXVI: How the Hegelings Landed Near Ludwig’s Castle

We ask you now to listen / to a tale as yet untold:
Ortwin still and Herwic / their way did onward hold
Until they found their followers / on the seashore standing.
Then ran these Hegeling liegemen / to meet them on the sands where they were landing.

Them they gladly welcomed, / and bade that they make known
The news that they were bringing, / and freely all to own.
First they asked of Ortwin, / if he could them be telling,
If still Gu-drun were living, / and if in Ludwig’s land she now was dwelling?

The knightly Ortwin answered: / “Of this I may not speak
To each and all that ask it; / the truth I will not break
Till all are met together; / then shall you be hearing
All that our eyes there greeted, / when we to come near Hartmut’s walls were daring.”

The word was told to others, / and soon a mighty band
Of warriors brave and knightly / around the two did stand.
Then to them said Ortwin: / “Sad is the news I give you,
And, were my wishes granted, / gladly I’d spare the tale, for much ’twill grieve you.

“List to what has happened, / for wonders now begin;
Gu-drun, my long-lost sister, / I, in truth, have seen,
And with her also Hildeburg, / erst in Ireland living.”
When he the tidings gave them, / they thought the tale he told not worth believing.

All then said together: / “It is not well to jest;
For her we long have waited, / and now our time you waste.
We hoped from Ludwig’s kingdom / you would bring her sooner;
To Ortwin and his followers / belong the shame and blame for wrongs still done her.”

“Ask you, then, King Herwic: / he, too, has seen the maid;
And he can also tell you / what wrongs on us are laid.
Could you, my friends, bethink you / of any shame that’s greater?
We found Gu-drun and Hildeburg / upon the seashore standing, washing in the water.”

Soon were his kindred weeping, / all who there were seen.
At this the aged Wâ-te / right scornful was, I ween:
“Truly for women only / is such behavior fitting;
Why you weep you know not. / This, in a knight, one never should be meeting.

“But if you are in earnest, / to help Gu-drun in her need,
The clothes that she has whitened / must you in war make red.
Erst white hands did wash them / for men who must be bleeding;
So you now may help her, / and soon the maid forlorn be homeward leading.”

Then said the Danish Fru-te: / “How can this be done?
How can we reach their kingdom / before our plan is known,
Before the men of Ludwig, / and Hartmut’s knights, are learning
That Hilda’s friends are gathered, / and toward the Norman land at length are turning?”

Then said the aged Wâ-te: / “Hear what ’tis best to do;
I trust before his castle / fitly to meet the foe,
If I may live to see him / there before me standing.
Brave knights, your rest now leaving, / soon on the Norman shore must you be landing.

“The air is fresh and gladsome, / the sky is broad and bright,
And, well for us it happens, / the moon will shine to-night.
From the sandy shore now hasten, / my warriors bold and daring:
Before it dawns to-morrow, / we King Ludwig’s stronghold must be nearing.”

Then they all were busy, / when thus old Wâ-te spoke;
Soon their clothes and horses / on board the ships they took.
All the night still sailing, / towards the land they hasted;
And ere the morrow’s daylight, / before the castle, on the sands they rested.

Hushed were all by Wâ-te, / throughout the warlike band,
As soon as they to rest them / lay down upon the sand.
To his water-weary followers / leave for this was granted;
Their shields about them spreading, / on them they laid their heads, for sleep they wanted.

“Whoe’er to-morrow morning / hopes to gain the fight
Must not,” said the aged Wâ-te, / “oversleep to-night.
For the struggle now before us / we hardly can be waiting;
As soon as morning lightens, / then, good knights, the foe must we be meeting.”

“Further I give you warning: / whoe’er my horn shall hear
Along the seashore sounded, / soon as it meets his ear,
Let him at once make ready / the foeman to be meeting.
When I shall blow at daybreak, / no longer then may any there be waiting.

“When I again shall blow it, / let each to this give heed;
Quickly let his saddle / be laid upon his steed.
Let him then be waiting, / till I see ’tis daylight fully,
And the time has come for the onset; / let none hang back, but meet the struggle truly.”

To do as Wâ-te bade them / their word they gladly gave.
How many a lovely woman / did he of bliss bereave!
For soon their dearest kindred / unto death were wounded,
Who now were only waiting / until the horn in the early morning sounded.

“When you, my friends and kinsmen, / thrice my horn shall hear,
Then, seated on your horses, / must you your weapons wear;
Thus must you, brave warriors, / wait, your steeds bestriding,
Till me you see, well-weaponed, / under the fair Queen Hilda’s banner riding.”

Now on the seashore weary / lay they, one and all;
Very near were they resting / to old King Ludwig’s hall.
Altho’ the night had fallen, / its towers they saw while waking;
The brave and fearless warriors / in stillness lay, no sound or outcry making.

The early star of morning / now had risen high;
Then came a lovely maiden / unto the window nigh.
She there was gazing skyward, / to see when day was breaking,
That she might bring the tidings, / and rich reward from fair Gu-drun be seeking.

Ere she long had waited, / there dawned on the maiden’s sight,
With its wonted gleam on the waters, / the early morning light;
Then the sheen of helmets / and many shields there flittered:
Foes had besieged the castle, / and all the sands below with weapons glittered.

Back then went the maiden / to where Gu-drun she found:
“Arouse, my queenly lady, / wake from your slumber sound!
The land is held by foemen, / who will these walls be storming;
We have not been forgotten / by those at home; our friends come hither swarming.”

Gu-drun, the high-born lady, / quickly sprang from her bed,
And, hasting to the window, / to the maid her thanks she said.
“For this good news you give me, / wealth shall you be earning.”
After her heavy sorrow, / now for her friends Gu-drun was sorely yearning.

Rich sails were seen to flutter / near by upon the sea;
Then said the high-born maiden: / “Ah, wellaway! Woe’s me!
Would that I ne’er were living!” / the wretched one was sighing:
“Many a doughty warrior / this day for me shall here in death be lying.”

While thus she was bewailing, / nearly all still slept;
But soon was one heard shouting, / who guard for Ludwig kept:
“Be up, you careless warriors! / your arms, your arms be taking!
And you, my king of Normandy! / I fear that all too late you will be waking.”

This the wicked Gerlind / heard, as the warder cried;
Then, while fast he slumbered, / she left the old king’s side.
Up to the roof of the castle / then at once she hastened;
She thence saw many foemen, / and on her devilish heart great sorrow fastened.

Back again she speeded / to where she found the king:
“Awake, my lord, make ready / for guests who followers bring!
Now hem they in your castle, / and well may they be dreaded:
That smile of young Gu-drun / will cost your knights a strife as yet unheeded.”

“Hush!” then answered Ludwig, / “I will go myself to see;
We must all be bravely waiting / for whatsoe’er may be.”
Then looked he from his castle, / to see the foemen thronging;
His eyes by guests were greeted, / on whom to look he never might be longing.

Before his palace waving, / he saw their banners spread;
Then said the old King Ludwig: / “Let some one go with speed
And bear this news to Hartmut. / I for pilgrims take them,
To sell their wares come hither; / before my hall a market would they make them.”

Then they wakened Hartmut, / that he the tale might hear.
Outspoke that daring warrior: / “Let none be sad or fear.
I see full twenty princes / their blazoned banners bearing;
I ween these foes are coming / to wreak the hate they long ’gainst us are wearing.”