CHAPTER XVI.

How Sir Otto and Sir Arinbiorn again returned to the mountains.

It was a clear and fresh autumnal morning, when the whole army were drawn up on the plain, with their armour and weapons brightly burnished. The captains rode up and down the ranks, dealing out their applause and thanks for the deeds of the preceding day; the war-horns also were sounded in triumph for the victory.

There was one, however, among the chiefs there assembled, whose heart seemed yet impenetrable to the joy that prevailed; and this was Sir Otto von Trautwangen. Still, though it was now bright morning, and all were active and cheerful around him, he could not help recollecting the horrible double-goer whom he had beheld on the preceding night; and though such phantasms might have been overcome by the light of day, and the pleasant society of his comrades, yet he involuntarily persisted in recalling to his own mind those impressions which he ought to have banished. These were to him like a basilisk, or some other frightful sight, which one abhors, yet cannot forbear to look upon. Even with the mind’s eye, courteous reader, you must now and then have contemplated spectral objects such as that which we have here described. But in such cases we beseech you to imitate the example of the Knight of Trautwangen. He could not avoid always thinking on his abominable double; but at last he encountered him as a valiant knight ought ever to do. He looked him in the face with the frown of defiance, till at last it seemed as if the vile spectre had vanished, and Sir Otto became as cheerful and free-hearted as he had been heretofore.

At length the Swedish prince, who commanded the army, came riding along the ranks. He saluted his soldiers with great courtesy; and, arriving at the top of a little eminence before the centre of his army, brandished his spear, that gleamed like a meteor in the red light of the morning, and struck therewith three times on his shield so powerfully, that the mountains repeated the sound in thundering reverberation. Thereupon all the war-horns throughout the army were sounded in token of rejoicing, and the squadrons, both horse and foot, advanced towards their commander, till they had formed a narrow half-circle round the height on which he had taken his station. When the captains galloped forward, and whilst they were receiving their orders, the young Sir Kolbein drew up to the Knight of Trautwangen, and said,--“Noble sir, in the sea-monarch’s squadron I had the honour yesterday of playing my part. Will you for the future vouchsafe to me some share of your friendship and good opinion?”--Sir Otto took his hand accordingly, and pressed it with fervour; but he had not time to return any other answer, for the old Swedish prince now raised his voice.

His tones were deep, clear, and powerful, so that he was heard plainly by every one throughout the army. The old hero returned thanks, in the name of his native land and its holy religion, to all his brave soldiers; then directed his attention in particular to the circle of officers around him, where his eyes were in the first place fixed upon Sir Arinbiorn. “Knight of the sea,” said he, “by your timely coming the battle was decided in our favour. Your stratagem of sailing round the country, landing quickly and unobserved, and then joining us at the proper moment,--all this was managed in such a manner, that only a great and experienced general could have succeeded therein. But then, as for the brave young eagle, which, with victorious beak, so long maintained for us the dangerous pass on our left wing, until your vulture’s wings appeared in our defence, him too we know full well, and he must not be forgotten. Thanks then, dear son,” added he, giving his hand to the Knight of Trautwangen. “Even at our first meeting, I expected from you all that prudence and valour which you have since so nobly proved.” Then he turned round to a squire who stood near, took from him the banner which Sir Otto had forced from the pagans, and gave it to the knight, saying,--“That was indeed already won by your own unassisted arm; but, in remembrance of the love and affection which all true-hearted Swedes bear towards you, we have inscribed a few words thereon; and so, if it be your pleasure, let it be preserved by you, and your children and grandchildren, in your father’s ancestral halls.” Otto now read on a golden scroll, which was wound round the stem of the banner, a long inscription, wherein his own name and valiant deeds were amply commemorated, and exclaimed, “Thanks, noble prince and valiant commander!” while, at the same time, he looked humbly on the ground, and could not bring out another word. But the old hero, smiling kindly on his embarrassment, began to speak as follows:--“My noble comrades and brave champions, there is yet one important and serious question which we have to answer. Our enemies have retreated, it is true, and taken shelter behind their own frontiers; our husbandmen have sown the seeds of their future harvest, and wait with confidence to reap the fruits at the fitting time. That their hopes may not be disappointed, that the winter may pass over their heads in peace, seems, according to the will of Providence, to depend on us. For this purpose it is requisite that some of our bands should, through the cold months of winter, remain here to guard the passes of the mountains. It is true, that these regions are haunted by spectres and demons; at least so the people say; and, moreover, the winter cold, as we all know, is very bitter and hard to withstand. However, methinks a true hero of the north would for once gladly contend with such evils, and look on them as but a pastime. Say then, who is there among you that is most inclined to this duty?”

Hereupon not a word was for some time clearly heard. The officers reflected and communed with each other, and it was easy to perceive that though many a one was willing to undertake the task, yet questions and doubts occurred to him which it was not easy to solve. Meanwhile Sir Otto of Trautwangen and the sea-monarch looked at each other, and, as if inspired at one moment by the same emotion, both presented themselves before the royal commander. “We would gladly try our fortune through the winter in the mountains,” said they; “yet if the result should be different from that which you desire, at least you may be assured that our good intentions and best endeavours were not wanting.” Thereupon the old prince with great joy accepted their offer, and invited them with all the other chiefs to the banquet. Farther, it was agreed that the two champions, the sea-monarch and the knight, this very day should proceed towards the mountains; for this was according to their own earnest request. They failed not to remember, how much in such undertakings depends on gaining possession of this or that advantageous position, before the enemy has had time to rally after a repulse.

While the troops, all shouting and rejoicing, drew again into the camp, the Knight of Trautwangen said to the sea-monarch, “How thankful am I to Heaven that I am thus again sent to the land of those mysteries wherewith I have already so often contended; for otherwise they would evermore have lingered in my heart, casting their dark shadows over my future life! Now, perchance, if I boldly look upon them, their gloom will change into light, and I shall no more be perplexed as heretofore.” “Truly my thoughts are like unto yours,” answered Sir Arinbiorn. “Now would I discover the true history of that magic mirror; I shall either break the spells which are locked up therein, or forfeit mine own life in the attempt; so that I shall then, at least, know what mysteries lurk behind those delusive charms, which in this world we call our senses.”

Before his tent Sir Otto now found the brave Swerker, of whom he had made a prisoner in the battle of the preceding day. The youth fixed his eyes on the ground with an aspect of deep melancholy; but, hearing the approach of Sir Otto’s prancing steed, he looked up, and contemplated his victor, not, as it seemed, without satisfaction and confidence. “Mark you, Swerker,” said the Knight of Trautwangen, “for we must now make a bargain with each other.” “That depends on what sort of bargain you have to propose,” said the Swede. “In the first place,” said Sir Otto, “you must allow yourself to be taught the Christian faith.” “You may teach as much as you please,” answered the Swede, “and if your doctrines be worth learning, I am willing to believe in them; if not, your trouble will be thrown away.”--“’Tis well,” answered Sir Otto; “although you are a prisoner, and should properly be detained among us, yet I shall send you, on your parole of honour, into Germany. There you will go into the blooming land of Swabia, and on the shores of the Danube you will inquire for an old knight, who is named Sir Hugh von Trautwangen, and for a castle of the same name, which is situated on the banks of that river. To Sir Hugh you will offer many courteous greetings from his loving son; you will deliver to him the banner which I took from your comrades, and give him a faithful account of all that has happened here. Then you shall return to me; for meanwhile I am to remain among your mountains of the north, and you shall afterwards be instructed in the faith of the Christians. Are you now willing to make this contract?”--“So may the gods of Valhalla help or renounce me!” answered the Swede.--“You shall one day learn better oaths to swear by,” said Sir Otto; “but for this time it shall suffice. Take the banner, and set out in God’s name.”--So, when the Swede had found a swift horse among those which had been taken from the Finlanders, and Sir Otto had given him a bag of silver money, they shook hands, and the messenger departed.

The brimming goblets yet circled round the board of the old Swedish hero, and the minstrels had not sung half their ballads, when Sir Otto and the sea-monarch requested leave to depart. The prince would have gladly detained them, but he well knew the danger of delays in time of war; so he stretched out his arms over the youths as they bowed before him, and, with a voice that faltered with emotion, and gleaming eyes, gave them his blessing. Thereafter their bands of horse and foot were soon collected together, and, shouting and singing songs of triumph, they proceeded on their way towards the mountains. The best positions both on the hills and in the valleys were soon surveyed and manned; watchers were appointed for the safety of all, and for the ready communication of intelligence between the parties. While the foot-soldiers were making arrangements for their own comforts, and the cavalrymen attending, in the first place, to the safety of their horses,--all being well aware that they were to winter in this desolate region,--Sir Otto looked at the sea-monarch, and said, “methinks our duties are already done, being anticipated by others, and yet it is not near sunset; we might therefore ride out now on our campaign of discovery, since the places of which we should be in search lead us certainly in a forward rather than a retrograde direction.”

“I had myself thought so,” said Sir Arinbiorn; “before us, and on the left hand, must be the old moss-grown watch-tower. A brave knight cannot well rest, until he has forced out into the clear light of day all the dark mysteries by which he has been so perplexed;--and so, good friend,” added he, raising his voice, and turning to Sir Kolbein, who then stood near him,--“take for a space the command of our troops here, and see that your duty be performed faithfully. Sir Otto and I must now ride hence to explore the mountains.”--Thereupon Sir Kolbein bowed gracefully and like a true knight, and the two friends trotted rapidly away through the shadowy valleys.

After no long space they came to a narrow path of the mountains, by which they were led, under the covert of the densely entwined branches, up a steep height, while ever and anon they espied the old battlements of the watch-tower. They rode silently and slowly forwards; and when at last they marked the building more clearly, and at no great distance through the trees, the red light of the evening sun beamed brightly and cheerfully on its windows. “It is very strange,” said Sir Otto to his friend, “that now, when the setting sun thus glitters on the tower, the whole building seems changed. I no longer look on it as frightful and mysterious; but, on the contrary, methinks, I am now riding towards my own home; for never have I felt a more cordial and deep longing to reach the old castle of Trautwangen than that which attracts me at this moment.”

“Can you then feel here as I do?” said Sir Arinbiorn; “I might indeed say, that I had no home over the wide world; for what avails my castle in Norway, wherein I have neither father, mother, wife, nor sister? But now, methinks, I could almost believe that Blanchefleur dwelt here in this old tower, and that I was returning hither as her husband from a prosperous and honourable campaign. Good heavens! what a happy evening this would then be!--and you, too, Sir Otto, must belong to the same house; you should, methinks, be the Lady Blanchefleur’s brother; and, if it were so, would you indeed give me your sister in marriage?”--“Of that there can be no question,” answered Sir Otto, at the same time shaking hands cordially with the sea-monarch. “If I had a sister with whom you had fallen in love she would within this very hour become your betrothed bride. To say the truth, however, I have not time at the present moment to think of such matters,--scarcely even of my own bride or wedding-day,--(had these been the subject of our discourse,) so deeply am I now impressed with the feeling, as if, like a cheerful free-hearted child, I were arrived, after long wandering through the world, at my own home, and as if the air were filled with the pleasant fragrance of the pine-tree logs blazing on my father’s hearth. Nay, I could almost knock at the door, and ask if my father were within, were I to give the reins to these strange feelings that have now possessed me.”

They now perceived a knight, in complete armour, who stood before the watch-tower, and seemed to speak vehemently with some one above. In order to learn, in the first place, what was here going forward, they checked their horses, and remained quiet; so that they were unperceived by the knight, who never looked towards them. From the tower above they now heard a mild female voice, that said, “Thou wild and untameable youth! art thou then angry with me? Wouldst thou blame that maternal care and love which may indeed be compared to a gleam of beneficence from Heaven, which takes up its abode in the female heart, fitting it with such divine goodness and anxiety for the welfare of others, that to an earthly being such feelings are often changed into pain?”

“Am I not your son?” answered the knight, in a tone of anger and defiance. “Wherefore then should you complain of me? And wherefore torment me thus with your endless warnings, your white doves, swans, and nightly visions, that follow me wherever I go? Either leave me in peace, or assist me to gain the object of my affections, the beautiful enchantress, who dwells yonder across the valley.”

“Nay, wild and restless warrior as thou art,” said the female voice, “Heaven has not decreed that the beautiful young enchantress can be yours. This would indeed be as if the fierce flame should woo the mountain-torrent, both, no doubt, rapid and vehement in their nature, but for ever divided and irreconcileable.”

“What means all this?” answered the youth angrily. “Doubtless I should know my own wishes best; and I know but too well, that my whole heart is fixed on this beautiful damsel, and on her alone. Should I not obtain her, then, indeed, I may for the first time be transformed into a devouring flame, by which the whole land of your favourite Christians will be laid waste. This I swear to you by the great Odin, and all the gods of Valhalla! Therefore, trouble me not with your counsels, but assist me; though truly, by so doing, you do not assist yourself; for were I once united to her, my power will be more formidable than ever against those people, with their crosses and prayer-books, whom it is your pleasure to protect. But mine in truth she shall be; my glorious deeds on the battle-field, my long and faithful watching at her gate among the rocks, must not pass unrewarded.” Thereupon the female voice answered, “Her heart is indeed closed against thee, like a gate of rock or adamant, which by thy power never may be shaken. Renounce then, poor youth, such groundless hopes, and desist too from your foolish threats. Heaven leads his chosen servants here on earth, as his wisdom sees fitting, to victory and happiness. Hast thou not seen this proved but yesterday, thou wild and reckless wanderer?”

Hereupon the knight laughed scornfully, and turned away, intending, as it seemed, to retire down the rocks on the other side of the watch-tower; then Sir Otto rode forwards from the thicket, saying, “Yield, pagan, if thou art wise, for we are here two to one against thee; give thyself up in peace, otherwise deeds instead of words shall prove how wisely the lady has just now spoken from the watch-tower.”

The knight immediately turned towards Sir Otto, and poised his spear in an attitude of wrath and defiance; but in the same instant both of them exclaimed, “Ha! art thou here again, horrible spectre?” and both turning ghastly pale, shrunk as if powerless from each other. “Shall the pagan caitiff escape us then?” cried the sea-monarch, rushing forward; but when he had gained the summit of the cliff, and beheld the features of the youth, who was now descending on the other side, and looked back upon him, he also became pale with affright, and in a trembling voice, cried to Sir Otto, “What hellish sorcery is this? Art thou then doubled? And which is the true knight, he who stands here, or he who now runs down the mountain?” “Arinbiorn,” answered the Knight of Trautwangen, “thou hast heard that cowardly fugitive blaspheme against God and our holy faith; and canst thou ask, if by any power of sorcery we could be made one and the same?” The sea-monarch took his hand, saying, kindly, “You have indeed reminded me of the best proof, and surest consolation. Still then, I have you and hold you as my tried and faithful friend, nor shall the powers of darkness ever again force such delusions upon me.” Meanwhile they heard the mild female voice once more from the tower: “Alas, Ottur!” it exclaimed, “wild, reckless Ottur! rush not so madly down the steep rocky cliffs!”