Strong was he and skilful, and oft the aged knight
Gave to the foe heart-sorrow, by all the ill he wrought him:
Ever to fight with his warriors, by the side of the boldest and best, his wishes taught him.
Horant, too, from Denmark, brave was he enough!
Beneath his hand were shattered helmets strong and tough;
Ne’er by him ’twas forgotten to wear his armor shining;
Ill he wrought to many, and oft the ranks of his foemen he was thinning.
The quick and fearless Morunc boldly stretched his hand
Ofttimes beyond his buckler, and oft the fight he gained.
To shun the king of Moorland ne’er would he be seeking;
Upon that king, so mighty, he the wrath of Herwic now was wreaking.
The great and doughty Hettel, when that his daughter fair
Had sent to beg her father in Herwic’s fight to share,
That peace at last might follow, fought for him not idly:
If life were dear to any, ’twere best to shun King Hettel’s borders widely.
Bravely strove King Herwic on the field and at the gate;
None than he fought better. His head was often wet,
Beneath his armor dripping, with sweat that fast was oozing.
In death were many deafened; they who would crush him must their lives be losing.
Wigaleis, the faithful, great ill to many wrought.
Sir Fru-te, too, from Daneland, with knightly prowess fought:
The thanks of all his fellows he should of right be sharing;
He strove where the fight was stormy, and none e’er knew an aged knight so daring.
The lord who came from Ortland, Ortwin, brave and young,
Showed the hand of a warrior; it was on many a tongue,
That never man in warfare bore himself more boldly:
Wounds he gave the deepest, and this by none was ever told of coldly.
For twelve long days of fighting, earnestly they strove.
The men led on by Hettel oft their spear-shafts drove
Thro’ their foes’ light bucklers, as close they met together:
The fighters proud from Moorland sorely rued the day that brought them thither.
Upon the thirteenth morning, ere early mass was said,
With sorry heart spake Siegfried: “How many here lie dead
Of all our bravest warriors! In his lofty wooing
The king of Sealand also here to himself has evil great been doing.”
Then to the men of Karadie made he known his will,
To a stronghold to betake them, there their wounds to heal:
They, with those from Alzabie, were earnest to go thither;
Right glad were these far-riders that all in death might not be found together.
Then to a sheltering castle to turn they all began,
Where onward, fast beside it, a wide, deep river ran.
While they were thither riding, fleeing away from danger,
They were still seen fighting with those who ne’er would yield their homes to a stranger.
Now against King Hettel the king of Moorland rode:
Well might one believe it, his former warlike mood
Was but a slight beginning; he soon a foe was meeting
Who many of his kinsmen with deep and deadly wounds of late was greeting.
Hettel, he of the Hegelings, and Siegfried, the Moorland king,
There unto the struggle all their strength did bring;
Shields were hacked to pieces by the swords they wielded:
The mighty lord of Moorland to the castle fled, nor to him of Daneland yielded.
Camps by the men from Denmark for themselves were made:
Then the beleaguered warriors— it cannot be gainsaid—
E’er many days were over, with care were burdened sadly;
However good their shelter, all would then have been at home more gladly.
Thus the boastful fighters were by the foeman’s hand
Fast held within the stronghold; nor was their knightly band
Now able to give battle, although for this yet longing.
Their castle well they guarded, as best they might, wherein they now were thronging.
Tale XIV
How Hettel Sent Tidings from Herwic’s Land
Hettel sends to announce to Hilda, his wife, and to Gudrun, his daughter, his success in the fight with Siegfried. Hartmut, the Norman, takes advantage of the absence of both Hettel and Herwic, and invades the Hegeling kingdom.
Hettel then sent tidings, to still their fears at home.
To the fair and high-born ladies men with news did come,
That unto the old and youthful, throughout the stormy fighting,
Good luck had aye befallen; and now, with hope must they for them be waiting.
He bade his men to tell them how Siegfried was besieged,
While he with all his followers war against him waged,
To help the lord of Sealand, loved by Gudrun, his daughter;
That all, as they were able, daily fought for her, and for him who sought her.
Hettel’s queen, fair Hilda, the hope began to have
That luck would follow Herwic and all his warriors brave;
And, as their worth befitted, all might well be speeding.
Then said Gudrun: “God grant it, that they our friends may back in health be leading.”
By Wâ-te’s men from Sturmland, the foes from Alzabie
And all who came from Moorland were kept away from the sea;
Sadly must they tarry within the sheltering castle:
In Wâ-te and in Fru-te foes they had with whom they ill could wrestle.
Loudly swore King Hettel the castle ne’er to leave;
That he and all his followers still to the end would strive,
Till those to him had yielded who now the Moor befriended.
Unwise had been their inroad, and this for them one day in sorrow ended.
Meanwhile the spies of Hartmut, whom he had thither sent,
Though little good they looked for, from the Norman border went;
Ever to learn what happened they a watch were keeping,
And from the stormy warfare they hoped that Hettel might no gain be reaping.
Now they saw that Siegfried, the Moorland king high-born,
Was kept within the castle, besieged both eve and morn;
Thence could he sally never, and this he knew with sorrow;
His lands so far were lying, he little help from them could hope to borrow.
The Norman errand-bearers, sent forth their watch to make
By Ludwig and young Hartmut, to them now hastened back:
The happy news they carried, and soon at home were giving,
That Hettel, the king, and Herwic were busy now, in warfare ever striving.
To them the lord of Normandy thanks for the tidings gave,
And asked them: “Can you tell us how long those foemen brave,
The men from the land of Karadie, will in Sealand tarry,
Fighting ’gainst its warriors, till they, their wrongs avenged, of war are weary?”
One of them made answer: “The truth you now may hear:
There they yet must linger more than another year.
Never from their stronghold will the Hegelings free them;
They there so well are guarded, that on their homeward way none e’er shall see them.”
Then the knight of Normandy, the daring Hartmut, spake:
“This frees my heart from sorrow, and hope in me doth wake!
If they are now beleaguered, then are we well befriended;
We must to Hegeling hasten, ere Hettel’s fight with Siegfried shall be ended.”
Ludwig and
