Then came to the land of Gunther tidings strange and dread

Then came to the land of Gunther tidings strange and dread; For out of a far, far country were heralds to Burgundy sped With a tale of unknown warriors and the hate they bare to the king; And in passing great disquiet the brethren heard that thing. Now these were they that had sent them:—the lord of the Saxon land, King Lüdiger mighty in war-hosts, mighty in strength of hand; And Lüdegast for his helper, the lord of the land of the Dane; And warriors marched unnumbered 'neath the banners of these twain.

So they came to the land of Gunther, those bearers of threats of war, Even they whom his adversaries had sent forth from afar. And men looked on the unknown faces, and asked, "What tale do ye bring?" And they led the heralds of war-storm to the presence of the King. And he gave to them courteous greeting: "Welcome to me be ye. What man hath sent you hither not yet hath been told unto me: Speak out and utter your message," said the noble king war-wise. Then sank their hearts, as they looked on the flame in Gunther's eyes. "If thou, O King, wilt suffer that we speak"—the heralds replied— "Unhindered all our message, no word from thee will we hide. So name we to you the princes who have laid on us this command: Lo, Lüdegast hitherward marcheth with Lüdiger unto your land. Ye twain have provoked their anger: in our ears was spoken the word, How that ye in the hearts of our liege-lords deadliest hate have stirred; And they purpose to lead their battles unto Worms beside the Rhine. See ye that your war-thanes help you! Lo, this is the warning-sign. Within twelve weeks shall the thunder of the tramp of their hosts draw near. If then ye have loyal vassals, let their fealty now appear: Let them ward the peace of the castle, let them keep unharried the field. Ha, here shall be fearful hewing of many a helm and shield!

Or if haply for peace ye will pray them, now let us be certified, Or ever their ranks of battle across your marches ride, Or ever your strong foes bow you in bitterness of soul. Ha, many a champion shall perish when hither the war-waves roll!" "Ye shall tarry a little season—my mind shall ye know ere long— While I ponder upon this matter," spake Gunther the valiant and strong. "O yea, I have loyal vassals; to them will I bear this word, And the tale of your war-defiance shall of all my friends be heard."

Of a truth unto Gunther the mighty full heavy the tidings were, And his innermost heart was burdened by the message that it bare; And he bade to his presence Hagen and other his liegemen withal, And he sent to summon Gernot in haste to his council-hall: So gathered his best, all vassals unto whom came that command; And he spake: "Lo, our foes be minded to march into Burgundy-land With a mighty array—ye may well be indignation-stung At the unprovoked defiance that these in our faces have flung!" "From these shall our swords defend us!" Prince Gernot's voice rang high. "Men must die in the day of their dooming: in death e'en let them lie! I will never forget mine honour for dread of what may befall! We will welcome our adversaries to the War-god's festival!" Then answered Hagen of Troneg: "O'er-hasty, I trow, are thy words; For the kings of the Danes and the Saxons be exceeding arrogant lords; And so few days cannot suffice us for our war-host's mustering. It were good," said the valiant warrior, "that we told unto Siegfried the thing." So they gave those war-denouncers for dwellings their city's best, How hateful they were soever, for such was the knightly hest Of Gunther the noble-hearted—since thus fair honour bade— Till the friends should be known who would fail not to bring their battle-aid.

Now the King in his heart was bearing a burden of sorrow and fear; Then the hero, the swift war-helper, beheld him heavy of cheer, And he marvelled thereat, for he knew not why he went 'neath a load of care. And he spake, and he prayed King Gunther the cause thereof to declare.

"Exceeding sorely I marvel," the hero Siegfried said, "Wherefore thine olden joyance this day is utterly fled, The gracious cheer that aforetime made the hearts that love thee light." Answered and spake to him Gunther, that royal-goodly knight: "In sooth may I suffer not all men in my sorrow of soul to have part: I must keep my grief deep-hidden, I must bear it alone in mine heart: Unto tried friends only and steadfast may a man unveil his pain." Then pale grew the face of Siegfried, and anon waxed crimson again. He spake to the King, and he answered: "Have I ever denied thee aught? I will help thee to cast the burden of thy spirit sorrow-fraught. If ye seek for friends true-hearted, lo, such an one even am I: I will cleave unto thee and aid thee in honour till I die." "Now God requite thee, Siegfried, for thy words as music ring! Yea, though thy might and thy valour no help unto me could bring, Even so should thy love's assurance make glad mine heart this day. If I live on yet for a season, of a surety I will repay. Thou therefore shalt hear the trouble wherewith mine heart is stirred: Mine adversaries' heralds have brought unto me this word, That their kings be marching to seek us here with their war-array;— Such outrage never warriors have dealt to us unto this day!" "Let this not disquiet thy spirit," spake the hero in answer thereto; "Speak peace to thine heart, and according to this my counsel do: Suffer me, even me, to win thee honour and goodly gain Or ever thy foes to the marches of this thy land attain. Yea, had those thy mighty foemen of battle-helpers arrayed So many as thrice ten thousand, by me should their onset be stayed, Had I at my side but a thousand. Commit thy cause unto me." Then spake unto him King Gunther: "I am bounden for ever to thee!" "Give charge that a thousand riders shall follow me forth to the fray, Inasmuch as of mine own warriors no more can I set in array Here, than my twelve war-fellows: so will I ward your land, And loyal service ever shall be done you by Siegfried's hand.

Yea also let Hagen help us, and Ortwein fare to the fight, Dankwart and Sindold, each man a well-belovèd knight, Therewithal shall ride in our war-host Volker the aweless one, And he shall be banner-bearer: better than he is none. And let those war-denouncers to their own lords' land ride back, And cause them to bear this message, that we follow hard on their track: So safe shall our castles be warded, and their peace no foe shall mar." Then the king bade summon the muster of his friends and his men of war.

So back to their lord went the bearers of Lüdiger's command: They were well content to be faring thence to their own home-land. And Gunther the royal-hearted rich gifts on the men bestowed, And therewithal safe-conduct; and with blithe hearts thence they rode. "Say ye to my mighty foemen," thus spake Burgundia's Lord, "Better for them unventured were their journey hitherward. Howbeit, if here in mine own land to seek my face they be fain, So my battle-helpers fail not, they shall find their bitter bane." Then goodly gifts to the heralds his treasure-warders bare;— Good sooth, of the same had Gunther enow and withal to spare!— Neither dared they refuse them, the bearers of Lüdiger's command. So took they their leave, and they journeyed with glad hearts forth of the land.

So then when the heralds to Denmark from Burgundy had passed, And had spoken the tidings unlooked-for to their lord, King Lüdegast, Had told him the word of the dwellers by Rhine, that message grim, For that haughty-hearted defiance was the soul made bitter in him. For they told him of many a valiant knight in the King's war-band:— "Yea, one we beheld with Gunther, and he stood at the king's right hand, And Siegfried they named him, a hero of Netherland." Thus spake they. Then Lüdegast's heart at the tidings was filled with strange dismay. So then when the tale of their message was heard all Denmark o'er, They hasted to win war-helpers, yea, more than theretofore, Till their lord, King Lüdegast, under his banner beheld enrolled Warriors twice ten thousand, all war-thanes dauntless-souled.

Then Lüdiger, lord of the Saxons, gathered his war-array, Till his battle-muster was two-score thousand, yea, more than they, Who should join them with Denmark's war-host, unto Burgundy to ride.

But in that land also had Gunther the King sent far and wide; To his kinsmen-friends and the war-host of his brethren he sent his hest To the end they should follow his banner as battleward he pressed; And with these came the knights of Hagen: yea, sore was their need that day; And the shadow of death already over many a warrior lay. They addressed them unto their journey; for nought was their march delayed; And Volker was banner-bearer, Volker the unafraid, On the day that they went forth riding from Worms by the waters of Rhine; And Hagen of Troneg marshalled Burgundia's battle-line. There in the ranks rode Sindold and Hunold the dauntless-souled, Such warriors as earn rich guerdon when war-kings lavish their gold; Rode Dankwart the brother of Hagen, and with these was Ortwein found. So they marched on the path of honour, they marched to be glory-crowned. "Lord King," spake Siegfried, "I pray thee, at home do thou abide, While the good knights after my banner forth to the battle shall ride; Stay thou, that the hearts of the weak ones may be strong in thy fearlessness; And I will guard thine honour and thy wealth in the battle's stress. And they that were fain to seek thee at Worms by the waters of Rhine, With them will I take such order, that nought shall they harm that is thine. Yea, we into their own homeland so far will ride in our raid, That soon shall the overweening be with sorrow sore dismayed."

From Rhine through the land of Hesse rode on that hero-host, And over the Saxon marches, where the fight should be won and lost; And they drave the spoil, and they harried with flame the land of the foe: Ha, bitter straits and anguish did the robber war-kings know! So they came to the Saxon marches, and the vanguard pressed on still. Then Siegfried the mighty champion asked of the chieftains' will: "Whom now shall we make our warder of camp and of sumpter-train?" —Ha, never of war-raid the Saxons suffered deadlier bane!

So they said, "Let the henchmen that follow the wielders of spear and brand Be warded of Dankwart the valiant, of the swift death-dealing hand; So shall our loss be the lesser from Lüdiger's plundering horde. Yea, leave with him Ortwein: our rear-guard shall these twain safely ward." "Then will myself ride onward," spake Siegfried the knight straightway, "To watch for the foe's on-coming, and to spy out their array, Until I shall know of a surety where now their warriors are." And with speed fair Siegelind's scion stood sheathed in his harness of war.

So the host he committed to Hagen, or ever he rode on the quest, Even to him and to Gernot, the knight of the dauntless breast. So into the land of the Saxons rode he forward alone— Yea, to fashion a tale for the minstrels, a tale of glory won! Then spied he onward-surging o'er the plain a host of war, So huge that Burgundia's warriors by these were outnumbered far; For their tale was two-score thousand, yea, more than this, I trow. Then leapt his heart and lightened his eyes with the battle-glow.

Now afront of the host of the foemen there rode a goodly knight, To watch for a battle-token, in shining harness dight. And Siegfried the hero beheld him, and on him that champion gazed, And the eyes of each upon other with the fury of battle blazed. Now who was the keen war-eagle that on watching pinions hung? A gleaming shield all-golden from his leftward shoulder was slung. King Lüdegast was the warrior that thus o'er the host kept ward. Lo, the noble stranger-hero against him is spurring hard! And the wrath of the lord of the Danefolk by the battle-challenge is stirred, And the mighty steeds to the onset are racing fierily spurred. In their strong grip over the shield-rims they couched their lances low— Ha, but the proud king knew not that he rode to his shame and his woe! The war-steeds hearkened the spur-sting, and swift as arrows they leapt, And the kings clashed like unto breakers by a tempest-blast on-swept; And knightly they wheeled to the onset their reeling steeds with the rein, And with swords they essayed the decision of strife, that terrible twain.

At each stroke of the hero Siegfried far round the whole plain rung, And the helmet was flashing and flaming as with fire from a torch outflung; Even so were the red sparks leaping 'neath the sword in the hero's hand. Lions both were the Dane-king and the Lord of the Nether Land, For with many a furious sword-stroke did the king of the Daneland smite; Yea, this one and that at the bucklers hewed with his uttermost might. Now their strife was beheld of thirty knights of the king's war-band: But or ever these might reach him victor did Siegfried stand. For with three wide-gaping gashes he made that war-king reel; They sundered the shining harness, the welded links of steel; On the great sword's cleaving lightning swift followed the rain of blood; Then groaned the king of the Danefolk in bitterness of mood. For his life must he make supplication: "I will pay for my ransoming," He cried, "the land of Denmark! I am Lüdegast the king!"

But by this full nigh were his war-band, the knights that from far had seen Betwixt these two fore-scouters what deadly strife had been. Then Siegfried would lead the vanquished away; but they fell forthright Upon him, those thirty warriors, yet his hand by its single might Aye guarded his princely captive with strokes that fell like hail; And soon to that king's defenders had he dealt yet deadlier bale. For he smote, that captive-warder, the thirty, till dead they lay, Save one that turned his horse-rein, and swiftly fled away, And bare the bitter tidings of all to the host of the Danes, And his shattered helmet witnessed thereto with its bloody stains. Then were the knights of Daneland shame-stricken and bitter-souled, When the tale how their king was a captive that day in their ears was told. And they bare to his brother the tidings, and the storm of his wrath outbrake In madness of fury and anguish for his captive brother's sake.

Now by this had the king of the Danefolk been led from the field of fight Back to the host of Gunther by Siegfried's resistless might; And to Hagen's hand did he give him: glad were his friends for the word That the King of the land of Denmark was the spoil of Siegfried's sword!

Then they cried through the host, "To the spear-staves bind ye the banners on!" "Forward!" rang Siegfried's war-cry: "great deeds this day shall be done Ere the evenfall, if my sinews fail not, if I lose not life! This day through the land of the Saxons shall be rued by many a wife! Heroes of Rhineland, whither I press before, take heed! To the heart of Lüdiger's war-host cleaving your path will I lead: Ye shall see brave hewing of helmets by many a hero's hand! Ere back from the battle we turn us, shall sorrow o'ercloud this land." Now on their steeds have Gernot and the men of his war-band sprung; In the grasp of the warrior-minstrel is the battle-flag upflung; Volker is bearing the banner afront of them all to the fray:— Yea, the very hearts of the camp-folk leap to the onset to-day!

Now the host that they led to the war-shock in no more than a thousand was told, Save for those twelve knights of Siegfried. In clouds was the dust uprolled From the tramp of the mighty horse-hoofs as they charged across the field: Ever gleamed through the eddying darkness the glint of many a shield. Now nearer and nearer the Saxons drew, and the flashing was seen Of the tossing sea of their broadswords—O, the edges thereof were keen!— Swung up, as telleth the story, in many a champion's hand. They were fain to thrust back the aliens from castle and from land. Onward the battle-marshals the ranks to the war-shock led, Onward withal Prince Siegfried with those his twelve knights sped Which companioning his journey afar from the Low Land went. Many a hand in the war-storm that day saw blood-besprent. Now Sindold and Hunold and Gernot in the forefront of battle smite, And many a hero falleth before them dead in the fight; Ere they could prove their valour they slept the iron sleep:— Ah, for their fate must many a lovely lady weep! Volker and Hagen and Ortwein with shattering strokes made dim The splendour of many a helmet in the battle bitter-grim; For the blood streamed over the morions where the aweless heroes fought: Yea, many a marvel of prowess the hand of Dankwart wrought.