Tale XVI: How Hilda Sent to Hettel and Herwic to Ask Their Help Against Hartmut

The fair and queenly Hilda, with all her will and mind,Gave her thoughts now wholly trusty men to findTo bear the tale to Hettel. Her heart indeed was rivenBy the wrongful deeds of Hartmut, and food for tears he to her eyes had given.

To Herwic and her husband she bade that it be saidThat foes had seized her daughter, that many knights lay dead;And she was left in wretchedness, lonely and forsaken;That all her gold and jewels the Normans on their way had with them taken.

Quickly rode the heralds and through the land they went:The queen in greatest sorrow these on their way had sent.Upon the seventh morning, they came where they were greetedWith the sight of beleaguering Hegelings who before their Moorland foes were seated.

Oft in knightly matches strove they every day,And one might also hear them at many a game and play,That they might not be weary who the siege were keeping;Some at a mark were shooting, and others strove in running and in leaping.

When by the Danish Horant errand-bearers were seenWho to the land were coming, thither sent by the queen,Then said he unto Hettel: “With news for us they’re riding;May God in kindness grant it, no ill to those at home is now betiding!”

The king himself went forward, and met them where they stood.He said, with seemly bearing, to them in their sorry mood:“Brave knights, I give you welcome here to this far-off border.How fares it with Queen Hilda? Who sent you here? and who is left to guard her?”

Said one: “Your lady sent us; to you for help she turns:Wasted are your castles; your lands the foeman burns.Gu-drun from thence is carried; her maidens, too, are taken:Never can your kingdom from all these woes and ills again awaken.

“This must I say, moreover, we are in straitest need;Now of your men and kindred a thousand there lie dead;And into far-off kingdoms have foes your riches carried;Your hoard of wealth is scattered: it shames good knights that thus your lands are harried.”

The king then bade them tell him who these deeds had done.One among them answered, and their names to him made known:“Ludwig was one, the Norman; with many knights he fought us;Hartmut, his son, was the other: ’twas they the inroad made, and havoc wrought us.”

Then King Hettel answered: “To Hartmut I would not give,For his bride, Gu-drun my daughter; for this he now doth striveTo waste with war my kingdom. I know his lands are holdenOf Hagen, her mother’s father; to woo her should his rank not him embolden.

“To our beleaguered foemen we nought of this must tell,And to our friends but whisper the ills that us befell;We then must call our kinsmen hither to be hasting.Worse could never happen unto good knights at home, from warfare resting.”

Herwic then was bidden to Hettel forthwith to go:Hettel’s friends and kindred and his men were sent for, too.When now these knights so worthy their way to him had taken,They found their king and master dark in mind, and of every hope forsaken.

Then said the lord of the Hegelings: “To you I make my moan;And, trusting in your friendship, my sorrows must I own:The queen, my Lady Hilda, has sent to give us warning,That the men of the Hegeling kingdom are ill bestead, and bitterly are mourning.

“My lands with fire are wasted, and my castle broken down;Ill our walls were guarded while we from home were gone:Foes have seized my daughter; my kin in death are sleeping;My trusty men are slaughtered to whom I left my land and name in keeping.”

Herwic now was weeping, in his eyes the tear-drops stood;Wet were the eyes of Hettel, and fast they overflowed:So it was with others, at seeing them thus weeping;Every one was sorrowful who, near the king, his faith to him was keeping.

Then said the aged Wâ-te: “Further of this say nought.For all the woe and losses these friends to us have brought,Soon will we repay them, and we shall yet be gladdened;Ludwig’s kin and Hartmut’s shall at our hands for this erelong be saddened.”

Hettel asked in wonder: “How can that be done?”To him old Wâ-te answered: “’Tis best that peace be wonNow with the king of Moorland, with whom we yet are warring;Our men, who here besiege him, to seek for fair Gu-drun we may then be sparing.”

Wise was the aged Wâ-te, the words he spake were meet:“To-morrow morning early, let us with Siegfried treat;And we ought so to bear us that he shall well be knowingThat, should we not allow it, he with his men can ne’er be homeward going.”

Then said the daring Herwic: “Wâ-te has spoken right;To-day must you be thinking how, with the morrow’s light,You all before the foeman may show a warlike bearing:It gives me pain that women should make us leave our siege, and hence be faring.”

Then they got together horses and clothes with speed;Unto the words of Wâ-te they readily gave heed.When the day was dawning, they again were striving’Gainst those from Abakia. Great praise for this were all to them soon giving.

On every side, with banners, they to the field did throng;Many, sound in body, there were slain erelong:Wâ-te’s men from Sturmland “Nearer! Nearer!” shouted;But those they would o’ermaster were quicker yet in fight, and nought it booted.

Soon the knightly Irold, over the edge of his shield,Called out, “Men of Moorland, to peace with us will you yield?King Hettel bids us ask you, will you this be choosing?Your lands so far are lying, that you your goods and men will else be losing.”

Siegfried, lord of Moorland, answered to him thus:“Would you for peace have pledges, then win the fight o’er us;With no one will I bargain for aught my name may lessen:If you think to overcome us, you will the more by this your losses hasten.”

Then spake the knightly Fru-te: “If help to us you’ll give,And pledge your word to do it, your stronghold you may leaveAnd go from my master’s kingdom, without more bloody fighting.”The Moors from Karadie on this stretched forth the hand, their faith thus plighting.

There came to strife a stand-still, this I for truth may say.The glad and happy warriors met that selfsame day;Those who erst were foemen their help to each other granted.They both had quenched their hatred; to fight the Normans now was all they wanted.

Then to Siegfried of Moorland at once King Hettel toldAll the heavy tidings that he in his breast did hold;He pledged to him his friendship, so long as he was living,If Hartmut’s foul misdoing now to repay, his help he would be giving.

To him the lord of Alzabie, the Moorish Siegfried said:“Knew we where to find them, they should our coming dread.”The aged Wâ-te answered: “I can show you nearlyTheir path across the water: and we perhaps on the sea may meet them early.”

Then to them all spake Hettel: “Where can ships be sought?And, if I wish to harm them, how bring my wish about?I might at home make ready within their lands to seek them,And there, when I had found them, my anger for my wrongs should quick o’ertake them.”

To him then said old Wâ-te: “In this I can help you still;God is ever mighty to do whate’er he will.I know within these borders now are lying near usWell-made ships full seventy; filled with food, these barks from the sands will bear us.

“In them have wandering pilgrims sailed the waters o’er:Their ships, whatever happens, we must seize upon the shore;The pilgrims must be willing that on the sand we leave them,Until our Norman foemen make good our wrongs, or we again shall brave them.”

At once old Wâ-te started, no longer would he wait;A hundred knights went with him, the others lingered yet.He said he came for buying; what could the pilgrims sell him?For this men died thereafter, and, for himself, but sorry luck befell him.

On the shore he found the pilgrims,— this I know is true,—Fully thirty hundred, I ween, and better, too.To fight were they unready, and could not rouse them quickly:Nearer came King Hettel, and with him led his men, now crowding thickly.

Their goods the pilgrims guarded, yet Wâ-te sent on shoreAll that he had no need for, of silver and clothes a store;But the food was left on shipboard, so old Wâ-te chooses:He said he should come hereafter, and would reward them well for all their losses.

Sadly mourned the pilgrims, for sorest was their need;But for all they said old Wâ-te cared not a crust of bread:The bold, unyielding warrior, stern and never smiling,Said: “Both ships and flatboats they to leave to him must now be willing.”

Hettel recked but little if ever they sailed againOver the sea with their crosses: then he took of their menFive hundred at least, or over, the best they had among them;Of these to the Hegeling kingdom few came back, from the death that overhung them.

I know not whether Hettel atoned for his evil deedDone to these poor pilgrims, that made their hearts to bleed,And, in a far-off kingdom, rent their band, to their sorrow.I ween the God in heaven saw the wrong, and his anger showed on the morrow.

King Hettel and his followers met with a kindly breeze,And now their way were taking quickly across the seas;Seeking for their foemen, they sailed far over the water,Wherever they might find them, longing to show their wrath, and bent on slaughter.