CHAPTER XVIII.

Of a frightful combat by night with the Finlanders.

Now the cold blasts of the northern mountains had wholly stript the beech-trees of their leaves. Over hill and dale, winter had spread his stiff glittering garment of snow and frost; only on the high rocks the frightful pine-forests of Finland, in their mournful dark-green, were flourishing as before. Our two knights, however, in their winter-camp, continued active and cheerful. Whether they rode out for amusement to the chase, through the now-faded forest, or in quest of more serious adventures, when the pagan hordes began to shew themselves on the frontier,--or when they returned home, weary at night, to their wooden cottage, which now served them for a fortress, and sat by the blazing hearth over their brimming horns of mead, and talking of past encounters,--they were always contented, and felt no lack of pastime. They were indeed conscious, that they were acting as faithful guardians, for the protection both of Norway and Sweden; and after those days, when they had been engaged in arduous conflicts, when the snow around them had often been stained with blood,--and after the long evenings spent at their wild cabin among the rocks, the visits which they duly made at the watch-tower of the mysterious Druda, were to them like sudden gleams of sunlight on a dark wintry landscape. Even Sir Arinbiorn had now regained his confidence, and felt himself as if at home in the Druda’s castle. Many times she entertained them with wondrous stories, ballads, and riddles, such as they had never before heard; and even when she remained silent, their spirits were not on that account depressed; but, on the contrary, they felt a mild submissive patience settle on their hearts. Only at one circumstance the youths were somewhat discontented, namely, because they had never beheld their kind hostess without her long green veil; and though her light-brown eyes indeed shone through that covering, and even every gesture announced the kindness and composure that reigned in her mind, yet her other features were always lost as if in a dense autumnal cloud. Otto ventured once to express his wonder at this, and to beg that she would lay aside her veil; but she only answered calmly and resolutely, “Oh no! that may not be thought of;” and he durst not speak any farther.

So it happened, that late one evening both the knights were seated at the round marble table in the Druda’s castle, when all of a sudden she became silent, laid her finger on her lips, in token that her guests also must not speak, and, as if listening to some strange and mysterious sound, she raised her gleaming eyes to the ceiling. Then she rose and went to the window, looked out attentively on the stars, and cried aloud, “To horse, brave young knights, to horse! Fly with the speed of light to your troops; for the swords of the pagans are now drawn! they have had recourse to their wonted sorcery! be then brave and steadfast, for on this night depends your destruction or triumph.” In a moment the two brave warriors had clasped their visors, girded on their swords, seized their long ponderous javelins, and bowed courteously before the Druda, who, at their departure, made the sign of the cross over their heads, and repeated her former admonitions. “To horse, and rush on with the speed of lightning to your camp!” In another minute, they were both mounted, and their horses bore them, swift as an arrow from the bow, down the steep path that led from the castle.

As they advanced on their way through the tangled thickets of the forest, they heard a strange confused noise of voices and rattling arms on all sides; there were fires kindled also, which shone from the snow-covered cliffs, especially from amid the pine-tree forests of the Finland frontier. At length they arrived at their camp, and, amid all this disturbance, found their troops in good order, the infantry already under arms, and the riders standing by their horses. When the knights appeared, all were inspired by new courage and ardent anticipations of approaching victory. “Mount then in God’s name!” cried the Knight of Trautwangen; “and let the light armed infantry lead the way,” shouted Sir Arinbiorn. In brief space, these arrangements were made, and they proceeded on their route through the shadowy valleys; while the young Sir Kolbein, with a band of scouts, was already engaged in a vehement skirmish with the barbarous Finlanders, who were howling aloud like wild beasts, and showering against him numberless javelins and arrows. Over the van of Sir Otto’s troops, at the same time, there came strange missiles, that burned and shone like the stars in heaven; whereupon some cried aloud,--“The foes attack us with flaming spears!”--Others said,--“This is all witchcraft, and the air is filled with serpents and dragons!”--“Let them be what they may,” cried Sir Otto and the sea-monarch; “we have here right and justice on our side. Onward, then! for God and our native land!”--With these inspiring words, the only battle-cry under which a Christian warrior can advance with due confidence and courage, they now urged their way through the thickets, and soon came up close to their hideous adversaries.

Amid these wild mountains were here and there level glades enclosed with trees, and on one of these the battle soon raged with such vehemence, that, in the confusion, aided by the gloom of approaching night, it was scarcely possible to distinguish friend from foe. But still these flaming javelins flew at intervals over the squadrons, and, by their uncertain gleams, betrayed to the astonished Christians that the front-ranks of the enemy were assisted by strange figures, such as they had never till now beheld; and though they might have despised all attacks of sword and lance against body and limbs, yet they could not deny that such frightful shapes were insupportable and distracting to the spirit. From a distance, too, among the rocky cliffs, forms yet more hideous emerged, and stood towering over the pagan hordes. One knew not whether these were gigantic demons, or only lifeless standards borne by the Finlanders. In spite of all this, however, the Christians repeated their battle-cries, and rushed forward with courage so resistless, that their spectral foes, whatever they might in reality be, were forced back, lost their footing on the level glade, and retired into a deep valley. Thither Sir Otto and the sea-monarch intended to pursue them; but waited in the first place to arrange their troops after this skirmish, and to consult whether they should not station a party both of horse and foot to protect the level ground in their absence; but, in the confusion which now followed, all such thoughts were soon lost. After the flight of the Finlanders, Night threw her dark mantle over them so densely and heavily, that there was no longer visible a single ray of light; nor were they now aided by the meteor-gleams of their enemies’ fiery spears. The golden armour of the sea-monarch, and eagle-visor of Sir Otto von Trautwangen, were alike unobserved and indistinguishable in the multitude; nay more, their commanding voices, and the notes of their battle-horns, were overpowered by the howling cries of the flying foe, by the noise of the wind which had risen along with the dark clouds, and by the shouts which their own soldiers raised in triumph at their victory. The leaders found themselves indeed strangely perplexed. Unless they wished to be rode down by the horsemen of their own squadrons, they were obliged to move onward, to give the reins up to their horses, and proceed blindly through the rayless unfriendly darkness of the night.

After no long space they arrived, in their stormy course, at a station where they found themselves in a kind of amphitheatre, or rather the place might be compared to a great and deep caldron. The cliffs rose high around them, and loud reverberating echoes announced the approach of the foe from the clifts and coverts of the mountain, who came to the assault with fearful shouts and neighing of horses. Here then the Christians expected that the battle would soon be decided in their favour; but the same fiery missiles once more flew over their heads, and, by their glimmering light, the soldiers beheld hideous spectres, that grinned on them, and stretched out their long black arms from the thickets: it seemed at last, as if the whole valley had changed into some horrid pagan temple, where these figures represented the gods, and where the Christian troops were to be immolated in sacrifice. Even the horses, accustomed as they were to carry their noble masters into the heart of every danger, reared and snorted wildly at the unwonted sounds and shapes by which they were now surrounded; and all of them, Sir Otto’s light-brown steed not excepted, became unmanageable, wheeled round and round, and at last forced their brave riders away with them in timid and disorderly flight. Then the Finland soldiers howled and shouted as if in scornful triumph, and, with redoubled strength and courage, sent down from the cliffs showers of arrows and javelins, so that many a horseman among the Christians fell dead on the ground; and yet more of the foot-soldiers, no longer protected by the cavalry, were left in the power of their enemies. Not till late in the night the two commanders contrived to quiet their horses, and bring a troop of their most faithful adherents into regular order beside them; and this happened in a narrow rocky valley.

Then, behold! from a snow-covered cliff before them, there broke forth a far-gleaming light, that revolved like a fiery wheel; and herein was visible the form of the young golden-locked enchantress, though beautiful, yet awful to look upon, with her dishevelled hair streaming in the wind, a drawn sword in her right hand, and in her left, despite of the wintry season, a verdant branch. “Am I then known at last?” cried she to the knights, who stood gazing up at her with amazement. “Lo! I am Gerda, the despised, the rejected damsel, whose friendship you have heretofore possessed and renounced. But now your lives are in my power; and if you refuse to be reconciled to me, then shall my fiery serpents be sent forth against you, till, amid the rocks of this narrow valley, your wild horses will rush onwards to their own and your destruction. To-morrow’s sunlight will then reveal the horrid sight, how your troops, that were to-day so full of life and hope, afford only a mangled heap, frozen to the earth in the blood that flowed from their own hearts, a sight that none dare look upon; or perchance you would save yourselves by flight; and if such be your wish, I shall not prevent you. Here on the left there is an outlet; but you find no other.” Involuntarily they turned their eyes in that direction, and saw by the gleams of the fire, which continued to play in circles around her, a boundless extent of smooth ice, by which one of the mountain-lakes was now covered. “Will you gallop across then?” said she scornfully. “Truly, when you and your horses together have once become thoroughly mad and reckless, you will prance nobly there for our amusement, till you fall dashed to pieces on the ice, or sink through it into some unlooked-for abyss.” As if resolved to put an end to this discourse, the sea-monarch and Sir Otto both raised their war-horns to their lips, intending to blow the signal for onset, and to fight at all events as long as their senses remained, or they were able to sit on their horses. Then Gerda once more addressed them; “Yet halt,” cried she, “and mark one other choice that I can offer to you. Be triumphant still, retain at once your lives and your honour, but join with me! Be not afraid; you shall not be required to abjure the faith of the Christians, but peace may be made between us, and the people for whom you now contend; and henceforth we may march forth honourably together on victorious campaigns through the wide world. What say you to this?” With these words she looked more than ever beautiful, and scarcely had the young Sir Kolbein heard her to an end ere he threw himself from his horse, and began to climb up the snow-covered cliff on which she stood. “As for thy threats of destruction and vengeance,” cried he, “I heed them not; but thy beauty and thy promises have wound their magic spells round my heart. I will be thy companion, thy champion, and go forth with thee, even to the end of the earth!” The sea-monarch and the Knight of Trautwangen shouted after him their vehement reproaches, and then stretched out their arms, like faithful friends, in earnest entreaties that he would return to them. But, meanwhile, Gerda held out her beautiful hand, with the green branch, towards him, and, as if drawn onwards by irresistible attraction, he advanced, till at last he suddenly made his appearance amid the fiery circle beside her, and, with smiles of confidence, made signs to his comrades that they should join him there.

Arinbiorn and Sir Otto looked at one another for a while in silence, and indeed with melancholy. At last, “Our end will indeed come sooner than I had thought,” said the sea-monarch. “Ay truly,” replied Sir Otto, “and I shall not deny it to you, I should gladly have lived a little longer in this world, and gained some laurel wreathes ere I died!” “From my inmost heart,” answered the sea-monarch, “I also should have wished that this had been possible.” “As these hopes are now over,” said the Knight of Trautwangen, “and as the enchantress yonder will ere long distract our senses, so that we shall not know what we do, were it not better, if, like friends and brethren, we should now take leave of each other, and also promise our mutual forgiveness before-hand for all crimes that we may commit against each other after the madness comes upon us?”--Thereupon they embraced cordially; and after they had briefly admonished their troops to die nobly, and fail not in their prayers to Heaven, they shouted aloud to Gerda,--“Come on now if thou wilt;--thou shalt hear our signals for attack.”

But, with the first notes of the battle-horns, lo! they were surprised by the gleams of a new light that shone from behind them. Looking back, they perceived that it was only the full moon that now rose bright and serenely over the mountains. Ere long, however, her light revealed to them the well-known figure of the Lady Minnatrost, who stood with her hands clasped, and looking up thankfully to heaven. She stood on a high cliff, and ere long her mild sweet voice was heard addressing the knights,--“With God’s help and blessing you have overcome the temptations by which you were here assailed. Onwards, then, in his holy name, and your wicked foes will fly before you!”

The fire that circled round Gerda became now pale and exhausted. The moon shed her bright solemn light over the mountains, and guided the Christian warriors against the Finland hordes, who no longer dared to rally, but fled howling through the snow-covered deserts.