CHAPTER XV.

How the Knights were rescued by Count Archimbald von Waldeck.

The door of the chamber now rung and rattled, at length it burst open, and there appeared in the room a knight in bright-gleaming armour. “Strike them well, kill them both!” cried the enchantress. “Heerdegen perchance is already dead; but were it not so, the stranger who has now appeared would make their number again three!” With his battle-axe upraised, Sir Kolbein, however, came forward to attack the stranger, who then entered, and the latter awaited his approach, with his shield raised high in his left hand, and his sword in his right, prepared to inflict a deadly wound, as soon as he found an opportunity to strike with advantage. While they stood thus watching each other, and both preparing for a decisive encounter, Gerda looked trembling on the silver armour of her new guest, and with yet more agitation on his features, which appeared calm and courageous from under his open beaver, till, suddenly stepping between them, she called out “Halt,” and Sir Kolbein, accustomed to implicit obedience, lowered his battle-axe, and the stranger looked steadily on the enchantress. Gerda then knelt down before him, and said,--“It is thou then who art come hither, most powerful of heroes? Moreover thou art chosen to be king of the Hartz forest; for if I am the goddess Freia, thou art no less than the divine Thor, and if our dominion be not yet established, it shall ere long be proclaimed over all the world.” “Lady,” said the stranger, raising her courteously from the ground, “I know not well what thou would’st have of me; but this much I entreat, that thou wilt not bestow on me such heathenish names, inasmuch as I am a faithful votary of the Christian church. Neither can I ever become king of the Hartz mountains; for I acknowledge our good emperor for my king, and am bound by solemn oaths to obey him. This has ever been the practice of my brave ancestors; and so long as I bear the name of Archimbald von Waldeck, I shall far rather hold by their noble example, than suffer myself to be raised by the delusions of witchcraft and necromancy into a king, or a heathenish idol.”

“Alas!” said Gerda, “this comes because thou knowest not yet the true grandeur and pomp that here await thee. Lo! we should build our throne upon the lofty summit of the Brocken, and there erect a castle with such vaulted galleries,--such long echoing chambers, proud watch-towers, and frowning portals, as have never been beheld through the wide world before;--there we should look forth, from our airy battlements, over the wide realms around us, and, far as our eyes could reach, all should be under our control, and pay us tribute, both by treasures and service on the battle-field. Whatever the people possess that is richest and rarest they should bring to our palace of the Hartz; their sons and daughters should be sent to us for soldiers and handmaidens; or, if they refused to obey us, we should come against them like whirlwinds and thunder-storms,--should level their habitations with the ground,--and, mounted on our fiery steeds, gallop over their ruins. Beneath, at the base of the mountain, frightful wild beasts and giants should be our guards;--truly these might be but shapes formed from the clouds, yet not the less deadly, for they should lead into the bottomless abysses of the mountain every one who ventured to approach without our permission. Whosoever, on the contrary, we chose to admit into our palace should feast like the gods and heroes on the lofty heights of Asgard. The delights of love and war would then alternate in our happy realm;--the sun, the stars, and clouds, must obey us, in order to solemnize our festivals; above all, when every year in spring-tide the people should come up to us in long solemn processions, bearing rich offerings,--and when the altar of sacrifice flamed in the court of our palace, it would be at the same time answered by fires on the tops of all the neighbouring mountains.”

“For Heaven’s sake, say no more!” cried Sir Archimbald; “how is it possible for a woman to be so lovely, and yet to utter words which are only worthy of a demon? Alas! I recognise by your own language, that your desire is to overthrow the mild blessed religion of the Christians, in order that you may receive homage as the pagan goddess Freia. I am in heart grieved for your sake; for by this means you will only continue to live as a wicked enchantress, and, according to the laws of God and man, you will deserve to be burned alive for your crimes!”

Hereupon Sir Kolbein, gnashing his teeth with rage, stepped again forwards to attack the count, but Gerda interposed:--“Be quiet,” said she, “I command you. Whatever this knight says, though his words be wrathful and bitter, is yet more welcome to me than your fondest caresses.”--So Kolbein stood mournfully abashed; and Archimbald, taking but little heed of his discourse, or that of the enchantress, continued to speak as follows:--

“I shall not conceal from you, that I came as an enemy into these secret caverns, and that I have arrived here in order to put an end to all your necromancy and enchantments; moreover to save, or, if this may not be, to revenge the three knights who, some time since, disappeared at your altar. In return, methinks, you ought to tell me, as freely as I have now spoken, how you came to look on me as the appointed king of the Hartz forest and the idol of its inhabitants, inasmuch as neither I myself, nor any one among my ancestors, ever had aught to do with witchcraft or pagan superstitions?”

“Who has assured thee of this, bold hero?” said the enchantress, with a winning smile; “truly thine ancestors have also worshipped the great Odin; and though their descendants have deserted their religion, yet his favour has not wholly been withdrawn from thy house, and the golden cup of promise may yet one day be poured on thy head. In that enchanted mirror, which is not far distant, I demanded to see the noblest scion from the heroic oak-tree of German knighthood; and when thou madest thine appearance therein, attired as thou now art, in thy silver armour, and I watched thy prowess in the tournament and battle-field, my heart was wholly won;--and now, therefore, proud hero, thou mayest command Gerda as thy handmaid.”

Hereupon Kolbein struck with his battle-axe vehemently on the ground, crying,--“Great Odin! can any mortal listen to words like these, and remain tranquil?”--but another stern look from the enchantress made him again silent and submissive.--“So then,” answered Sir Archimbald, “all is changed here from that which I had expected; and since you offer me implicit obedience, I shall injure neither you nor your adherents; but beware how you infringe the conditions of the promise now made.”

“Till now,” answered the enchantress, in a melancholy tone, “I have been named the wild Gerda; but in your presence I have become timid as a lamb. Alas! if thou would’st but accept from my hand the crown of the Hartz forest!”

“As to this give yourself no trouble,” answered the count; “were you not a sorceress, and a pagan, truly there might be other crowns of which I would gladly speak with you; but now this also is hopeless; and I have only to insist on the stern and severe laws of right and wrong. Where are the three brave and noble knights who came lately into your caverns?”--At the same moment, looking round the room, he observed for the first time the three victims, that lay outstretched in their coats-of-mail on the floor.--“Hast thou murdered them?” said he, with a look of rage. “Right stern and fearful is the account that must be rendered unto me by those who have committed this crime; above all, for the sake of the knight in the black and silver armour, with the eagle’s visor; for both the knight and his armour are well known to me, and are very dear to my heart.”

“My lord and commander,” said Gerda trembling,--“the warrior of whom thou speak’st yet lives, and might easily be cured of his wounds; but over the knight who lies beneath him, death already has spread his dark chilling wings.”

“Give life quickly to them who may yet live,” said Archimbald; and Gerda obediently took the rod of medlar-tree again into her hand, waved it over the knights as they lay, and muttered her unintelligible words. Thereupon both Arinbiorn and Sir Otto opened their eyes; immediately, too, the falcon began to move, which, till now, sharing in their enchanted swoon, had lain, as if dead, near his master’s helmet. In astonishment the sea-monarch looked around him, then grappled at his halbert and sword, rose, and stamped on the floor, as if to try whether he was now in possession of his wonted strength. Otto meanwhile seemed to have regained his senses, only that he might feel in his inmost heart agonizing grief for the death of Sir Heerdegen. Bending over the pale visage of his friend, he wept bitterly, though in silence, while the blood flowed unceasingly from the deep wound under his broken corslet. When the red current, however, fell on Sir Heerdegen’s features, he wiped the stains away with his sash, and said, in his great sorrow,--“Oh, Bertha, thou spotless angel!--how much these now silent sleeping features resemble thine!”--The sea-monarch and Sir Archimbald, who had meanwhile spoken with each other, now drew near to console their friend; and Sir Otto said to them,--“I know indeed that it is not Bertha who has thus untimely died, and that I have not been so unfortunate as the stern Hugur, who put to death his innocent wife; on the contrary, I defended this youth with all the strength that was left to me. But, behold! he is now gone,--he who was so brave and true-hearted; and as he rests here in his endless sleep, every one who looks on him must think of Bertha. Arinbiorn, is it not so?”--Thereupon the sea-monarch could not refrain from tears: and Sir Otto wept the more; but his grief was rendered milder by the sympathy of his brave friends. Then they unclasped his corslet, and examined his wounds. Gerda too would have drawn near with healing herbs in her hands, but Sir Arinbiorn called out in a thundering voice,--“If thou would’st not that I should here, beside the dead body of my friend, inflict just vengeance on those who caused his untimely fate, keep away,--thou, and all thy hellish brood by whom thou art aided!”--Then Gerda stepped back humbly, and, at her signal, the dastardly Kolbein, who was still present, left the room; while the two noble champions took off their long sashes, and with them bound up Sir Otto’s wounds. When this was done, they lifted up the dead body of Sir Heerdegen; and Sir Otto could not be prevented from assisting in that mournful duty.--“I dare look on thy pale visage now,” said he; “for we understand each other better than at that first meeting on the banks of the Mayne.”

Obeying the stern command of Sir Archimbald, Gerda had kindled a large torch of dried pine-tree, and now walked, with the light in her hand, before the procession. So they left the castle, proceeded again across the flaming meadows and the iron-bridge, then along the dark lake, following the path by which they had come, and which they knew would lead them to the upper world.