by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER XXIII
Early on the morning of the third day after the meeting in the greathall of the palace, Hilda and her young charge, Eugenia, were sittingtogether in one of the women's apartments, talking eagerly over thework at which they were industriously toiling.
The narrow but lofty arched window afforded a view of the large squarecourtyard of the palace. In which there was an active stir of militarypreparation. In one portion of the wide space newly arrived Vandalrecruits were being divided into bands of tens and hundreds; in anotherthey were discharging arrows and hurling spears at targets made ofplanks which, in height, width, and general appearance, resembled asclosely as possible Byzantine warriors in full defensive armor. Aspecial oval enclosure was reserved for the inspection of horses andcamels offered for sale by Moorish traders. The King, Gibamund, and theGundings went from group to group. Hilda was sitting on a pile ofcushions, from which, whenever she looked up, she could see the wholecourtyard without the least difficulty. She was working industriouslyupon a large piece of scarlet woollen cloth which lay spread over thelaps of both women. Often the needle fell from her hand, while aradiant glance flashed down at the noble figure of her slender husband.If he met it and waved his hand to her,--few of her glances escaped hisnotice,--a lovely flush of shy, sweet happiness glowed on the youngwife's cheeks.
Hilda saw that Eugenia stretched her delicate neck forward severaltimes to obtain a glimpse of the courtyard. But she did not succeed;her seat was too far back from the window; and when at another attemptshe perceived that her effort had been noticed, she crimsoned withalarm and shame far more deeply than Hilda had just done from pleasure.
"You have finished the lower hem," said Hilda, kindly. "Push anothercushion on the stool. You must sit higher now, on account of the work."The young Greek eagerly obeyed, and a stolen glance flew swiftly downinto the courtyard. But her lashes drooped sorrowfully, and she drewher gold-threaded needle still faster through the red cloth.
"New hundreds will soon arrive," remarked Hilda, "and then othercommanders will come into the courtyard."
Eugenia made no reply, but her face brightened.
"You have been so diligent that we shall soon finish," Hilda went on."The setting sun will see Genseric's old banner floating again inrestored beauty from the palace roof."
"The golden dragon is nearly mended, only one wing and the claws--"
"They probably grew dull during the long years of peace, when thebanner lay idle in the arsenal."
"There were frequent battles with the Moors."
"Yes, but Genseric's old battle-standard was not shaken from its prouddreams on account of those little skirmishes. Only small bodies ofmounted troops rode forth, and the majestic signal of war was notunfurled on the palace. But now that the kingdom is threatened, Gelimerhas commanded that, according to ancient custom, the great bannershould be unfurled on the roof. My Gibamund brought it to me to replacethe worn embroidery with fresh gold."
"We should have finished it before, if you had not placed those strangelittle signs half hidden along the hem--"
"Hush," whispered Hilda, smiling, "he must not know it."
"Who?"
"Why, the pious King. Alas, we shall never understand and agree witheach other!"
"Why must he know nothing about it?"
"They are the ancient runes of victory of our people. My ancestorHildebrand taught them to me. And who can tell whether they may nothelp?"
As she spoke, she passed her hand over her work with a tender,caressing motion, humming softly,--
"Revered and ancient Runes so glorious, Magical symbols Of victory's bliss, Float ye and sway With the fluttering banner High o'er our heads! Summon the swift, Lovely, and gracious Maids, brave and bold, Hovering swan-like Our heads far above! Givers of victory, Radiant sisterhood, Fetter the foe, Stay their proud columns, Weaken their sword-strokes, Shiver their spears, Break their firm shields, Shatter their breastplates, Hew off their helmets!-- Unto our warriors Victory send ye; Joyous pursuit, Speeding on swift steeds, Shouting in glee, After the flying Ranks of the vanquished!"
"There! The ancient rune has often helped the Amalungi; why should itnot aid the Asdings? Aha! Now let the dragon fly again. He hasmoulted," she added, laughing merrily; "now his wings have grown new."
Springing to her feet, she raised the long heavy shaft, terminating ina sharp point, to which the square scarlet cloth was fastened withgold-headed nails, and with both hands she waved the banner joyouslyaround her head. It was a beautiful picture: Gibamund and many of thewarriors below saw the floating banner and the lovely woman's headsurrounded by her flowing golden hair.
"Hail, Hilda, hail!" rose in an echoing shout.
Startled, the young wife sank on her knees to escape their eyes. Yetshe had heard _his_ voice, so she smiled, happy in her embarrassment,and charming in her confusion.
Eugenia, doubtless, felt the winsome spell, for, suddenly slipping downbeside the Princess, she covered her hands and beautiful round whitearms with ardent kisses. "Oh, lady, why are you so glorious? I oftenlook up to you with fear. When your eyes flash so, when, like PallasAthene, you talk so enthusiastically of battle and heroic deeds, fearor awe steals over me and holds me away from you. Then again, when--ashas so often happened during these last few days--I have seen your shy,sweet happiness, your love, your devotion to your husband, then, oh,then--pardon my presumption--I feel as near, as closely akin to you,as--as--"
"As a sister, my Eugenia," said Hilda, clasping the charming creaturewarmly to her heart. "Believe me, brave, fearless heroism does notexclude the most loyal, the most devoted wifely love. I have oftenargued that question with the most beautiful woman in the whole world."
"Who is that?" asked Eugenia, doubtfully; for how could any one befairer than Hilda?
"Mataswintha, granddaughter of the great Theodoric, in the laurel-growngarden at Ravenna. She would have become my friend; but she desired tohear only of love, nothing of heroism and duty to people and kingdom.She knows only one right, one duty--love. This separated us sharply andrigidly. Yet how touchingly both may be united, a beautiful old legendcelebrates. My noble friend, Teja, once sang it for my grandfather andme to the accompaniment of his harp, in measures so sorrowful and yetso proud--ah, as only Teja can sing. I will translate it into yourlanguage. Come, let us mend this corner of the golden hem; meanwhile, Iwill tell you."
Both took their seats by the open window again. Once more Eugenia'sglance, still in vain, often flitted over the courtyard, and while thetwo were industriously embroidering, the Princess began:
"It was in ancient times: when eagles shrieked, holy waters flowed fromheavenly mountains. Far, far away from here, in the Land of Thule inScandinavia, a noble hero was born of the Woelsung race. His name wasHelgi, and he had no peer on earth. When, after great victories overthe Hundings, the hereditary foes of his family, he sat resting on arock in the fir-woods, light suddenly burst from the sky, from whoseradiance beams darted like shining lances, and from the clouds rodethe Valkyries, who--according to the beautiful religion of ourancestors--are hero-maidens who decide the destinies of battle, andbear the fallen heroes up to the shield-wainscoted halls of the god ofvictory. They rode in helmets and breastplates; flames blazed at thepoints of their spears. One of them, Sigrun, came to the lonelywarrior, clasped his hand, greeted him, and kissed his lips beneath hishelmet, and they loved each other deeply.
"But Sigrun's father had betrothed her to another, and Helgi wascompelled to wage a hard battle for his love. He killed her lover, herfather, and all her brothers except one. Sigrun herself, hovering inthe clouds, had given him the victory, and she became his wife, thoughhe had slain her father and her
brothers. But soon Helgi, the belovedhero, was murdered by the one brother whom he had spared. True, theassassin tried to make amends to the widow; but she cursed him, saying:'May the ship that carries you never move forward, though a fair windis blowing! May the steed that bears you stop running, when you arefleeing from your foes! May the sword you wield cease to cut, and mayit whirl around your own head! May you live in the world without peace,as the hunted wolf wanders through the forest!' Disdaining all comfort,she tore her hair, saying: 'Woe betide the widow who acceptsconsolation! She never knew love, for love is eternal. Woe to the wifewho has lost her husband! Her heart is desolate; why should she liveon?'"
Eugenia softly repeated the words: "Woe betide the widow who acceptsconsolation! She never knew love, for love is eternal. Woe to the wifewho has lost her husband! Her heart is desolate; why should she liveon?"
"'Helgi towered above all other heroes, as the ash towers above thornsand thistles. For the widow there remains but one spot on earth--herhusband's grave. Sigrun will no longer find pleasure in this world,unless perchance a light should burst from the doors of his tomb, and Imight again embrace him.'
"And so mighty, so all-constraining is the longing of the truewidow, that it will even break the power of death. In the evening amaid-servant came running to Sigrun, saying: 'Hasten forth, if you wishto have your husband again. Look! the mound has opened; a light isstreaming from it; your longing has brought the hero from the heaven ofthe god of victory; he is sitting in the mound and beseeches you tostanch his bleeding wounds.'"
Eugenia, in a low, trembling voice, repeated: "The longing of the truewidow will even break the power of death."
"Sigrun went in to Helgi, kissed him, stanched his wounds, and said:'Your locks are drenched with moisture; you are covered with blood;your hands are cold--how shall I keep you?' 'You are the sole cause,'he replied. 'You shed so many tears, and each fell a blood-stain uponHelgi's breast.' 'Then I will weep no more,' she cried; 'but will restupon your heart, as I did in life.' 'You will remain in the mound withme, in the arms of the dead, though you still live,' cried Helgi,exultingly.
"You will remain in the mound, in the arms of the dead, though youstill live," Eugenia repeated.
"But the legend relates that when Sigrun also died, both were bornagain: he a victorious hero, but she a Valkyrie. This is the ballad ofhow a woman's true love, a widow's true anguish, conquers death, and,in omnipotent yearning, even forces a passage into the grave to thebeloved one."
"And in omnipotent yearning forces a passage into the grave to thebeloved one."
Hilda looked up suddenly. "Child, what is the matter?" The Princess hadspoken with such enthusiasm that at last she paid no heed to herlistener. But now she heard a low sob, and, in bewilderment, saw theGreek kneeling on the floor, bending forward over the stool, hiding herlovely face in both hands; tears were streaming between the slenderfingers.
"Eugenia!"
"O Hilda, it is so beautiful. It must be so blissful to be loved! Andit is also happiness to love unto death. Oh, happy Gibamund's Hilda!Oh, happy Helgi's Sigrun! How this song makes the heart ache and yetrejoice! How beautiful and, alas, how true it is, that love conquersall things, and draws the loving woman to her beloved, even to hisgrave! They are united in death, if no longer in life. That thoughtpossesses stronger power than spell or magnet."
"O sister, does this little heart love so strongly, so fervently, sogenuinely? Speak freely at last. Not a single word during all thesedays have you--"
"I could not! I was so ashamed for myself, and, alas! for him. And Idare not speak of my love! It is a disgrace and shame. For he, mybridegroom,--no, my husband,--does not love me!"
"Indeed he does love you, or why should the reckless noble have wooedyou so humbly?"
"Alas, I do not know. Hundreds of times during the last few days haveI asked myself that question. I do not know. True, I believed--untilthe day before yesterday--it was from love. And often this foolishheart believes it still. But, no, it was not love. Capriceweariness--perhaps," and now she trembled wrathfully, "a wager,--a gamethat he desired to win and which lost its charm as soon as hesucceeded."
"No, my little dove! Thrasaric is incapable of that."
"Oh, yes, oh, yes!" Eugenia sobbed despairingly. "He is capable of it."
"I do not believe it," said the Princess, and, sitting down beside her,she lifted the forsaken little bride into her arms as if she were achild, dried her wet cheeks with the folds of her own white mantle,stroked her burning lids, smoothed her tangled hair, pressed thelittle head to her soft bosom, and rocked gently to and fro, sayingsoothingly: "Everything will be well again, little one, and soon; forhe does love you. That is certain."
A suppressed sob and a slight shake of the head said, No!
"Certain! I do not know, nor do I wish to know, what that woman hissedinto your ear. But I saw how it wounded you, like a poisoned arrow.Whatever it may be--"
"I will never, never, never tell!" the girl fairly shrieked.
"I do not wish to know, I told you. Whatever his guilt may be, theChristians have a beautiful saying: 'Love beareth all things.'"
"Love beareth all things," murmured Eugenia. "But, of course, loveonly. Tell me, little sister, do you really love him?"
The weeping girl, springing from the Princess's clasping arms, stooderect, and stretching both arms wide exclaimed, in a low tone, "Alas!Unspeakably!" and threw herself again on her friend's breast. Her largesoft eyes sparkled through her tears as she went on in a low whisper,as though fearing that strangers might hear in the secluded chamber:"That is my sweet secret,--the secret of my shame." She smiledradiantly. "I loved him long ago, I believe even as a child. When hecame to my father to buy grain for his villas, he lifted me in hisstrong arms like a feather, until I--gradually--forbade it. The older Igrew, the more ardently I loved, and therefore the more timidly Iavoided him. Oh, do not betray it as long as you live--when heseized me, bore me away in the public street--fiercely as my wrath, myhonor rebelled, deeply as I suffered from pity for my father--yetyet--yet! While struggling desperately in his iron arms, screaming forhelp--yet!--in the midst of all the mortal fright and anger, thereblazed here in my heart, secretly, a warm, happy, blissful emotion: 'Heloves me; he tortures me from love!' And, amid all the keen suffering,I was happy, nay, proud, that he dared so bold a deed for love of me!Can you understand, can you forgive that?"
Hilda smiled bewitchingly: "Forgive? No! I am utterly bewildered withsheer pleasure. Forgive _me_, little one. I had not expected from youso much genuine, ardent woman's love! But, you obstinate littlecreature, you hypocrite,--why did you so long conceal and deny yourfeelings toward him from your father and your friend?"
"Why? That is perfectly plain," exclaimed the girl, indignantly. "Fromembarrassment and shame. It is terrible, it is a frightful disgrace,for a young girl, instead of hating the man who seized her in thepublic market-place, and even kissed her at the same time, to love him.It is utterly abominable."
Half weeping, half smiling, she hid her face on her friend's breast,tenderly kissing a little gold cross that she wore round her neckattached to a thin silver chain, and lovingly pressing to her bosom abronze semi-circle, inscribed with runes, that she wore on her arm.
"His betrothal and, alas, his marriage gift," she sighed.
"Yes, you love him deeply," said Hilda, smiling. "And he? He sent myGibamund to me with frequent messages of the anguish he was suffering,and he was as grateful as a blind man who has been restored to sightwhen I told him that he was indeed wholly unworthy of you; but if hereally desired to win you for his wife, he must ask you if you wouldwed him, and then beg your father for your hand. This simple bit ofwisdom made him as happy as a child. He followed the counsel, andnow--"
"Now?" Eugenia interrupted, in almost comical indignation. "Now he hasnot been seen at all for nearly three days. Who knows how far away hemay be?"
"Not very far," cried Hilda, laughing; "he is just riding into thecourtyard below."
"Oh, oh, how magnificent he looks!" cried Hilda, clasping her handswith the most joyful surprise. "In full, heavy armor, a huge bear-headwith gaping jaws on his helmet--"
"Oh, yes! He killed it himself on the Auras Mountain," murmured thelittle bride.
"And how the skin floats around his mighty shoulders! He carries aspear as thick as a sapling, and on his shield--What is the emblem? Astone-hammer?"
"Yes, yes," cried Eugenia, eagerly, lifting her head cautiously to thewindow-sill, "that is his house-mark. His family descends, according toancient tradition, from a red-bearded demon with a hammer--I don'tremember the name."
"What demon?" exclaimed Hilda. "The god Donar is his ancestor, andThrasaric does him honor. He is talking with Gibamund. They are lookingup; he is saluting me. Oh dear, how pale and sad the poor giant looks!"
"Is that true?" The little brown head flew up again.
"Stoop, little one! He must not see that we are far less able to bearthe yearning than he. My husband is waving his hand to me. He is comingupstairs; Thrasaric seems to be following him."
Eugenia had already vanished in the next room.