CHAPTER XIII.

How the Knights went down to the subterraneous castle of Gerda.

The three knights had determined to leave their horses at the charcoal-man’s hut, because he had described to them how slippery and dangerous were the paths leading up to the pagan altar. Meanwhile De Montfaucon’s falcon, which since that evening (of which we have already told) never deserted the Knight of Trautwangen, flew gayly before them, as if to marshal their way, now and then resting too on the plume of his master’s helmet. Thereupon they were all of good courage; for the noble bird hovered around them like a guardian spirit, and at his approach all the ominous brood of bats and owls were dispersed, and fled screaming to hide themselves in the forest.

Through luxuriant brush-wood, and rugged cliffs, the warriors pursued their toilsome way, while, as they gained the higher ground, the storm howled around them, and the voice of the moaning blast contended with the loud roar of a cataract that rushed through a deep ravine. At length they saw, through the naked branches of the beech-trees and the snow-laden pines, an open glade, which at once they recognised for the spot of which the charcoal-man had spoken; for, in the midst of this level ground, almost like a pile of rocks, was reared the lofty altar for pagan sacrifice; and the moon, just then breaking through a cloud, threw her pale death-like lustre on black half-burnt brands and bones, which lay mouldering on its broad hearth.

Still the knights stood doubtful and irresolute, whether they should quietly wait for the supernatural apparitions that might come forth, or try to force open those concealed gates of the altar, from which the charcoal-man had before seen the two knights emerge. All at once they perceived, not without some terror, that their number was increased to four. A tall, gigantic, but shadowy figure of a man, was among them, who now spoke with a hollow and murmuring voice,--“You mean well,” said he, “but, as a friend, I would rather advise you to desist from this encounter; for the inhabitants of that altar are strong as any devil. If you are determined to proceed, however, you must go to the north side, at which is the only entrance. You must knock three times for admittance; for, trust me, it is always best, in such adventures, to make the first attack. Through my whole life, when I have had wild beasts to contend with, I always found it better to fall straightway on them, than wait till they had made a spring at me.”--The knights looked at him in silent astonishment; whereupon he added,--“I would gladly play to you a bold hunting-piece on my bugle, in order that your spirits may be the better roused for the conflict that awaits you. However, my voice dare not for this time be raised here. May good luck attend you, brave foresters!”--With these words the shadowy stranger vanished away into the wood, and the knights resolved to follow his counsel; especially because whatever he had said chimed well with their notions of honour and bravery. Accordingly they knocked with their sword-hilts on the north side of the altar, and Sir Heerdegen, in a stern voice, demanded that the door should be opened.

Then the solid walls began to move, and roll asunder as if on hinges, till at last an entrance was visible, and they looked down a steep narrow descent, with broken steps, whereon gleams of uncertain light played fitfully at intervals.--Gazing thereon, “Your mother’s apprehensions,” said the sea-monarch to Sir Otto, “might now readily be fulfilled; for some one among us might perchance here find a grave. In truth, this looks altogether like a mansion of the dead.”--“Nay,” said Sir Heerdegen, “the whole world would seem no better to one whose thoughts were thus inclined; for all must one day come to an end. If we but arrive at the goal by the paths of honour and virtue, what more could we desire? and surely we come hither with intentions virtuous and praiseworthy;--wherefore then such consultation and delay?”--“Who dares affirm that I wish for delay or consultation?” said the sea-monarch proudly, and thereupon marched straightway into the cavern. Sir Otto followed him, casting one look backwards, ere he went into the vault, on the moon’s beautiful broad shield, that then again emerged from a cloud, and reminded him of Hildiridur. Last came Sir Heerdegen, humming over to himself an old ballad telling of the swarthy spirits of the mines and mountains; and meanwhile De Montfaucon’s noble falcon had clung fearfully to Sir Otto’s breast, feeling that, in this narrow vault, he had no longer space for his usual flights. Ere long, however, the road became more spacious, so that three could walk abreast; and the noble determination, not to be last in the path of danger, forced Sir Otto and Sir Heerdegen forward, till they had come up with the sea-monarch;--then they went on ranked together, and holding out their long gleaming swords to guide them through the darkness.

They met not with any obstacles. On the contrary, the farther they descended, the wider and loftier became the roof, and the steps less uneven, till suddenly they found themselves once more on plain ground. Here too the wind blew on them as if they were once more in the open country; and on looking up, they could almost have believed that they had left the cavern; for the roof was now lost in distance, and glimmering lights were visible like stars above them. On this strange appearance they were reflecting in silent wonder, when the falcon started from Sir Otto’s breast, and, rejoicing to find himself once more with the realms of space around him, he flew up, and disappeared amid those twinkling lights. All of a sudden, however, he came back terrified, and tumbling through the air; they saw well that he had begun his flight after prey, and had been scared by hideous shapes, which had now descended along with him, and floated right over their own heads. So strange and shadowy were these shapes, that they knew not whether they were gigantic birds of some unknown race, or vapours bred by the noisome damps of the cavern, that assumed those living forms: for now that their eyes had become more accustomed to the uncertain light, they could no longer doubt that they were still in a vast cavern, of which the roof was indeed so lofty, that it might be compared to the firmament, and lamps were hung therein, that shone downward on them like stars.

Moreover, a great lake now lay at their feet, reflecting gloomily the black vault with its twinkling lights. The knights assayed to prove its depth with their swords; and Sir Arinbiorn groped therein with his long halbert. Even close to the shore, however, they could find no ground; and though shuddering to think of this horrid and bottomless abyss, they determined in all haste to go through with their adventure, walking boldly round the banks of that subterraneous sea, while the falcon now sat quietly on Sir Otto’s helmet.

They had walked thus for more than a mile along the shore, when, lo! there arose before them a steep hill, crowned by a fortress with many towers. When they had determined to proceed thither, they found to their great disappointment, that the lake now changed into a wild roaring stream, which came betwixt them and the mountain. The waters foamed and raged in such manner, that to swim across was impossible; the strongest giant would have been borne away by such a current. They continued their landward course therefore, till they arrived at a bridge built of iron and brass; the metal rung beneath their steps almost like the notes of a frightful battle-march. Having come to the other side, they saw before them a wide level field, and might at first have named it a blooming meadow, for it seemed studded over with bright flowers; but when they came nearer, these were changed into yellow flames, that rose in many strange forms, and almost choked them with sulphureous smoke as they trod upon them. Yet to their greater amazement, there were living creatures, like horses, deer, and bulls, in the field, that had their noses on the ground, and cropped these fiery flowers as if they had from thence derived good refreshment; and when the strangers approached, they lifted their heads and trotted away.

“Had we not better catch two or three of these native horses, and so ride into the castle?” said Sir Otto, in a bold tone, hoping by these words to banish the apprehensions of his comrades. But the jest inspired by such horrid sights only increased the horror of the listeners, and the three brave knights trembled, so that their iron-coats rattled on their limbs. At this moment there came up to them a hateful lame dwarf, hopping on one leg; “Nay,” said he, “it were better that you did not meddle with these horses, for they are the war-steeds of the great goddess, Freia. Therewith she is wont to ride through the forest, and hunt down the wild hunter, Hakelnberg, and the mortals who will not do her homage. Moreover, I am appointed here to be their groom and watcher.” With these words, he began to blow into an enormous horn that was hung by his side, of which the noise was so loud and hideous, that the knights could scarce help recoiling. “Has this alarmed you?” said the dwarf; “I play thus now and then a little music on my shepherd’s pipe to beguile the tedious hours; but if it so pleases you, I shall also treat you with a dance to the same tune: my brother shepherds are not far distant.” Hereupon the knights made him a signal that he should retreat, and went forward towards the fortress-gates. While they proceeded on their way, the dwarf uttered a long and loud sound of scornful laughter, and the demoniacal horses leaped and plunged about on the fiery meadow.

On their route towards the castle, instead of finding a smooth road, they had to clamber over rugged fragments of rock, overgrown with thorns and brambles. Sir Heerdegen and the sea-monarch, who had both travelled in the East, were of opinion that such caverns were to be found there also, and that they had been formed by wonderful boiling springs and volcanoes.

At last the knights had arrived at the portal; they found the drawbridges down, as if awaiting their approach, and passed over them quietly as they would have done in any ordinary fortress above ground. In the court, it seemed to them as if some soldiers in complete armour were keeping watch; and bowing at the approach of the strange guests, these men lowered their arms in respectful salutation; though, for the rest, one could not say whether these were not mere statues of iron or stone, that bowed themselves for the moment, and then recovered their position erect and motionless.

Thereafter their way led onwards through empty and silent corridors and apartments, wherein even the echo of their own steps sounded horribly in this desolate mansion. Here and there glimmering lamps hung upon the walls, whose light only served to remind the knights of a funeral procession. At last they came into a large inhabited chamber, of which the adornments were ghostly spectral forms and death’s heads. In this room there was seated a knight at a large round table, who had a book open before him. On the leaves they could perceive, even with a flitting glance, that there were inscribed many strange characters and figures intermixed with old Runic letters; and Sir Otto recollected that, at one time or another, all this had appeared to him in a dream. While he reflected silently on what now passed before him, the knight closed his book, and rose from his chair. “You would have acted more wisely,” said he, “if you had never come hither; but since you are indeed among us, I shall announce your arrival.” With these words he departed, casting, however, a look of sympathy and compassion on Sir Otto, who at the same moment began to recognise in the strange man his mysterious half-brother, Ottur of Norway. Truly he could not suppose that he had deceived himself, for both his companions were at the same moment eager to remark the resemblance. “If thou wert not here beside us, Knight of Trautwangen,” said they, “we should assuredly have believed that thou had’st even now departed through the door which we see yonder.”

Thus they were speaking with each other, when, lo! there came into the room a beautiful and stately damsel, in whom all three immediately recognised the wonderful enchantress of Norway, the mysterious and far-famed Gerda. Hereupon they all bowed courteously, as it beseemed high-born knights, yet remained silent and doubtful in what manner they should now address her; while Gerda looked on them with a smile of indifference and self-complacency. At last she said,--“How comes it, noble warriors, that you seem thus confused? Perchance you have lost your way in the night, and arrived by accident at my castle; but though this were the cause of your appearance here, wherefore should you now be thus embarrassed?” “Nay,” said Heerdegen, knitting his brows, “there is one reason at least for our being thus confused. We are now, Heaven knows, here many fathoms deep under ground.” “Then,” added Sir Otto, “your meadow-fields, with their burning flowers, your wild horses that devour the flames, and your dwarf hopping on one leg,--are not these enough to distract the mind of any Christian knight?” “In the first place,” said Sir Arinbiorn, “and before all other questions, answer whether thou art the lady who in these mountains demands homage as the goddess Freia?” “Methinks, Sir Knight of the Sea,” answered Gerda, “you have here assumed to yourself the right of command; and you think by your high-sounding words to gain an influence over me. But in this hope you are deceived. I am no longer a follower in your train; and if in former years I loved you more than you deserved, yet that is long past. Since then my head and heart are both changed; and as for your appearance, and that of your comrades here, I can only say, that you are all mad. You will visit me in my pleasant fortress, bright with the morning gleams, and yet speak of caverns under ground, horses eating fire, and such like delirious visions. If possible, let the clear sunlight restore your wandering senses and recollection.” Hereupon she drew aside a dark-red curtain that hung across the farther end of the room, and, behold, there was behind it a large bright window, through which they looked out on a rich blooming country!

Just then the cloudless skies were brightened with the red glow of the rising sun; and by that pleasant light the astonished champions beheld a beautiful valley, with many castles and pleasure-gardens, where the trees had just begun to assume the verdant colouring of spring. Shepherds, too, in their red and blue jackets, with flutes and horns in their hands, were driving out their flocks, and young damsels were twining flower-garlands on the meadows. “Good Heaven!” said Sir Heerdegen, “methinks this appears as if we were now in Italy.” “Who has told you then,” said Gerda smiling, “that you are not really there? If you believe that what you now behold is but illusion, why not think the same of your former wanderings through the snow-covered Hartz forest? Besides, how can you pretend to measure space and time, since you rashly brought yourselves under my power, and have travelled perhaps many hundred miles, when you thought to have walked only one?”

The knights hereupon knew not what to believe, and looked anxiously through the large gleaming window, while the scene became always more lively; and at length they beheld three figures come through the gates of a noble mansion, to whom their attention was especially directed. These were a knight and two ladies, who were now walking together, as if engaged in friendly discourse; whereupon Sir Otto sighed deeply, and said to Sir Heerdegen, “Alas, I behold there Folko de Montfaucon, with Gabrielle and Blanchefleur; but where is your sister Bertha von Lichtenried?” “We shall straightway ask them that question,” said Sir Heerdegen, and he was rushing onwards in order to force open the window, when Gerda, by a threatening gesture, prevented him. “Then,” said the Knight of Trautwangen, “brother, brother! I now remember well how we have been here deceived. That is indeed no window, but a magic mirror, such as my mother once had in her Swedish watch-tower; and who can tell how far distant Sir Folko, with the two damsels, may now be from us? Of such illusions, however, I shall quickly make an end, as I have done before in that mysterious castle of the north.”

The good sword, that he had named Ottur, already gleamed in his hand; but ere his blows had time to fall on the mirror, Gerda had snatched up an enchanter’s rod, made of the medlar-tree, waved it three times round her head, all the while muttering strange words, till at last the three knights fell at the same moment to the ground, powerless and motionless.