SIEGFRIED’S days passed happily at Gunther’s court, and now that he had become the husband of the beautiful Kriemhild he desired nothing better than to spend his life beside her in the pleasant land of Burgundy. Ever since the day of his marriage all of his former life seemed to be shrouded in mist. He but dimly remembered the forging of Balmung and his fight with the dragon Fafnir, while the meeting with Brunhilde had, owing to the magic potion, passed wholly from his memory. He was very happy with the lovely and gentle Kriemhild, who had wedded him believing that she alone had won the young hero’s heart, for her mother had spoken no word to her of the Valkyrie whom Siegfried loved, or of the draught which had been given to make him forget her. As for Siegfried, he was proud of being chosen above all the other suitors who came to win the hand of Gunther’s sister; and he was sure that there lived upon the earth no maiden fairer than the peerless Kriemhild.

One day there came to the palace an old harper. His hair was white and his figure bent with age, but he could still play wonderful music, and sing bravely of the deeds of heroes. Many days and nights he sang in the great hall of the castle, and the listeners never wearied of his music. Sometimes he laid aside his harp and told strange tales of his wanderings; and one night as he sat before Siegfried and King Gunther at the feast, he spoke to them of a certain country called Isenland, where dwelt a beautiful maiden whom many kings and princes had sought to wed. “But,” continued the old man, “she has never yet been won, for she is a warrior queen, and to those who seek her hand she proposes a trial of strength with the condition that he who loses in the contest must also lose his life. This has daunted many a suitor, for the fame of the maiden’s strength has spread far and wide, yet there have been some brave men who have dared to try, and, failing, have forfeited their lives.”

“But why is she willing to marry, if she has more than a man’s strength, and can go to battle like any warrior?” asked Gunther.

“She does not wish to do so,” replied the harper; “but it is written in the runes that she must wed. She is determined, however, to yield only to the hero whose strength can surpass her own, and therefore she demands that all suitors shall meet her in this contest.”

“What is her name?” asked the king.

“It is Brunhilde,” answered the old man, and at this Gunther looked fearfully at Siegfried, wondering if the name would bring back to him the memory of his ride through the fire and his meeting with the Valkyrie. But on Siegfried’s face was a look of entire unconcern, and he smiled as the blood rushed into Gunther’s cheeks, and cried:—

“Look now at the king’s face, Sir Harper, and see how quickly you have found another victim for the warrior maiden. Methinks he is already eager to behold her beauty and win her for his queen. How is it, friend Gunther?”

“Even as you have said,” replied the king, “for I would fain risk my life to gain this wonderful maiden.”

Indeed, Gunther was so much in earnest in his wish, and so determined to journey to Isenland, that no advice from Hagen could turn him from his purpose, neither were the gentle pleadings of Kriemhild of any avail. He would have Brunhilde and no one else for his queen.

When it was settled that he should go to Isenland, Hagen came secretly to him and said: “If you are really bent upon going on this foolhardy journey, and desire to risk your life for a woman who is doubtless not worth the winning, take Siegfried with you. He has the sword Balmung with which to fight your battles, should you be beset with foes, and he has also the magic Tarnkappe which renders him invisible. This will help to bring you out of many unknown difficulties. Urge him, therefore, to go with you.”

Gunther did as Hagen advised, but it needed no urging to obtain Siegfried’s ready consent to accompany the king. He had grown somewhat weary of the quiet, uneventful life at the court, and longed for new adventures. The beautiful Kriemhild wept and besought him not to go into a far country, and on an undertaking fraught with many dangers; but Siegfried only laughed at her fears, and bade her get his clothing and armour ready for the journey. To Gunther he said, “There is one thing you must do if you wish me to accompany you, and that is to give me your promise not to take any train of warriors with us, but to go alone with only Hagen and your brother Dankwart.”

This seemed a very singular demand, and Hagen declared that the king should not listen to it; but Gunther trusted Siegfried’s discretion, and was willing to be guided by his wishes, so he consented, and no one prepared for the voyage to Isenland save those whom Siegfried had chosen.

Kriemhild and her maidens spent many days making rich garments and embroidering costly robes, for she wished to have the warriors of Burgundy apparelled as became their rank. Queen Ute, also, brought out from her large chests many fine fabrics and rare jewels, and with threads of purest gold worked beautiful pieces of raiment, that Gunther and his friends might make a suitable appearance at the court of Brunhilde. But it troubled her that no retinue of lords was to be allowed to attend the king, as was customary when royalty travelled abroad; and she felt some resentment toward Siegfried for compelling the ruler of all Burgundy to go to a foreign court with no followers save three of his own kinsmen.

While Queen Ute and Kriemhild were busy at their needlework, the ship on which the king was to sail was made ready, and fitted up with all things which might be needed on the voyage. The most skilful rowers in the kingdom were placed at the oars, and at last the ship was launched and the sails set. There was much weeping at the departure of Gunther and his friends, and the watchers on the shore felt that they would never return from the journey. But the heroes themselves were eager for the voyage, and full of hope that their adventure would be successful,—all but Hagen, who stood on the deck, grim-visaged and scornful, for he had no faith in this foolish undertaking, though he would have followed his king to the ends of the earth.

The voyage to Isenland was long, but no peril of wind or weather followed the ship, and no dangers of rocks and shoals marred the pleasure of the journey, or hindered the good ship’s speed. When at last they came in sight of a rocky coast, and saw on the top of the cliffs a tall, fortressed castle with frowning towers, Hagen told them that they had now reached Isenland, and that before them was the palace of Brunhilde. It looked very forbidding, and Gunther began to doubt if, after all, this venture had been a wise one; but Siegfried was light-hearted as ever, and the gloomy towers brought him no anxiety or fears. As they were about to land he said to the king:—

“One thing further you must do if we wish to win in this undertaking. Tell every one at Brunhilde’s palace that I am your vassal, and have come hither at your command to attend you.”

Gunther looked surprised at this demand, but he consented, and on the way to the castle Siegfried followed behind the king, as became a vassal in attendance on his lord.

From her chamber window the queen was looking down upon the knights as they rode toward the castle,[57] and calling her maidens to her she said: “Who are these strangers that have come to our gates? They seem of noble bearing, yet they have no attendants, so cannot be of royal blood. Let some one go to meet them, and inquire of their names, and why they have voyaged to Isenland, for in the harbour yonder I see a white-sailed ship.”

One of the maidens went away at the queen’s bidding, and soon returned breathless with excitement.

“It is Gunther, king of Burgundy, my lady,” she cried, “and with him are his brother and uncle, and a noble youth named Siegfried. I hear that they have come to match strength with you in the games.”

When Brunhilde learned that it was Siegfried who was at her castle gates, she trembled with delight and surprise; for she had been given no draught of forgetfulness, and she well remembered the brave youth who had ridden through the fire and wakened her from sleep. If he had come to win her, she hoped that his strength was equal to his valour, and that it would surpass her own. For the first time since Odin took away her shield, and with it the glory of being a Valkyrie, she felt glad that she was a mortal maiden.

Word was sent to the lords within the castle to let down the drawbridge, and welcome the strangers to Isenland. The queen also bade them give the guests the best which the palace afforded, and do everything which would make for their pleasure and comfort. When she herself was arrayed in her costliest robes, she descended to the great hall of the castle. There, seated upon a marble throne, and surrounded by her chosen warriors, she received the stranger knights in royal state.

To Gunther, who approached first, she offered her hand and bade him welcome. This courtesy she also extended to Dankwart and Hagen; but when Siegfried stood before her she rose, and, taking both his hands in hers, she said softly: “So you have come again to seek me, Sir Siegfried, but this time it is not through a circle of fire. It is long since we last met, but I have not forgotten you, nor have I lost the ring you placed upon my finger. There is no one whom Brunhilde would gladlier see within her halls.”

Siegfried at first seemed bewildered at her words; then a troubled look passed over his face, and he rubbed his eyes as if awakening from sleep. He gazed long into the queen’s face, murmuring, “Brunhilde—the Valkyrie—the wall of fire.” Then all at once a mist was lifted from his eyes; he remembered his ride through the flames, the sleeping maiden, and all of the past which had been so long forgotten.

Brunhilde saw the change in his face, but she mistook its meaning. She thought that he had carelessly forgotten her, and was now trying to recall some memory of her. So her soft manner turned to hardness, for her pride was hurt, and maiden shame forbade her to show favours to one who could so easily forget her. During all his stay at the castle she kept aloof from Siegfried, and treated him with more coldness than she showed even to the grim-visaged Hagen.

As for Siegfried, he knew that something had happened which had blotted out the memory of Brunhilde during all the years he had been in Burgundy; and he knew also that if he could now choose his bride, it would be the haughty queen who treated him so scornfully. But he was here as Gunther’s friend and vassal, and to help Gunther win this maiden for his wife; so he laid aside his own regrets, and determined to do all in his power to further the king’s suit.

Soon after the arrival of the Burgundians, a day was set for the contest between King Gunther and the warrior queen. At the appointed time they assembled in the courtyard of the palace, and Hagen had many misgivings when he saw five hundred armed knights standing about, whose faces betokened no good-will to the strangers. However, it was now too late to retreat, and he muttered to the king,—

“We have truly come hither on a fool’s errand; for whether you win or lose in this contest, we will never be allowed to leave this place alive.”

At this Gunther only laughed and said: “Your gray hairs make you full of fears, O Hagen; and your age makes you blind to the beauty of this wonderful maiden, for whom a man might well risk his life. But fear not for me, as something tells me that I shall win.”

And he went away, leaving Hagen to mutter curses on the whole mad adventure.

When Brunhilde appeared in the courtyard clad in her coat of mail, the four Burgundian warriors approached her, and Siegfried said, “My liege lord has come from far to match strength with you, O Brunhilde, and should he win in the contest, there is none who will give you allegiance as his queen more gladly than the humble and loyal vassal Siegfried.”

To this Brunhilde answered coldly, “Does your lord know the conditions of the contest and the forfeit we demand, should he lose?”

“He does,” replied Siegfried; “but nothing outweighs the chance of possessing Brunhilde for his queen.”

“Then we accept the challenge,” said the maiden, and, turning to one of her attendants she added, “Bring hither my armour, and let the games begin.” The servants then brought her a golden helmet, a corselet of finely wrought silver, and a shield broad and heavy enough for the most powerful warrior. After arming herself with these, her spear was carried in on the shoulders of three strong men. It was very long, and of such tremendous weight that no arm but Brunhilde’s had ever been known to lift it.

While these preparations were going on, the Burgundian heroes were watching with amazement, half mingled with fear, and Hagen muttered aloud, “Shall we stand idly by and see our king slain by a woman’s hand?” But Siegfried whispered in Gunther’s ear, “Take courage and we shall win, only show no sign of fear.” Then he slipped out of the crowd and hurried down to the seashore where the ship lay at anchor. Here he hastily donned his Tarnkappe, and then went back, unseen, to the courtyard, where Gunther had already taken up his shield, and Brunhilde was poising her spear in the air ready to throw.

He took his stand close to the king’s side and whispered, “Fear not, only do as I bid you.”

Though he could see no one, Gunther knew that it was Siegfried who was beside him, so he took courage and grasped his shield more firmly.

The signal was given, and Brunhilde hurled her spear at Gunther’s shield. The blow was a terrible one, and both Siegfried and the king staggered beneath it. Borne down by the weight of the spear, and by the force with which it was thrown, Gunther would have been crushed under his shield had not Siegfried broken the force of the blow by placing himself in front of the king, while he held before him the magic shield which he had taken from Andvari’s hoard. Then he quickly raised the king, and before the astonished spectators realized what had happened, he picked up the huge spear and sent it, apparently from Gunther’s hand, back to Brunhilde. It sped with terrible swiftness, and struck her shield with a tremendous crash, carrying the warrior maiden to the ground. In a moment she recovered herself and rose, flushing with shame and anger. Going to where the king stood, she said,—

“That was a noble blow, King Gunther, and I count myself fairly beaten at this first game, but you must also win in casting the stone and in leaping.”

As she spoke, ten men came forward, carrying an immense stone upon their shoulders. This the maiden raised easily in her white arms, and swinging it once or twice above her head, she threw it to the farther end of the castle yard, some hundred yards away, and then leaped after it, landing just beside it.

The followers of Brunhilde shouted with delight, and every face showed pride in their wonderful queen; but Dankwart trembled with fear, and old Hagen bit his lip and cursed the day that had brought them to Isenland. At Gunther’s side, however, was Siegfried, still whispering courage to the king, who could not see his friend, though he knew who it was that was winning the contest for him. Together they walked to where the great stone was lying, and Siegfried raised it from the ground, while it seemed to the spectators that it was lifted by the king’s hand. Then he swung it above his head, and hurled it across the courtyard, where it landed far beyond the spot from which Brunhilde had first thrown it. Immediately he seized Gunther in his arms and sprang after the stone, reaching the very place where it lay half buried in the earth.

The warrior maiden could do naught but own herself beaten in all the games, and though her face showed disappointment and chagrin, she offered her hand to Gunther, saying:—

“We acknowledge ourselves defeated, my lord, and from henceforth Brunhilde is no longer her own master, but the wife and vassal of the king of Burgundy,” and, turning to her knights and attendants, she bade them acknowledge Gunther as their rightful lord.

That night there was great feasting in the palace, though the hearts of the people of Isenland were heavy at the thought of losing their queen. She herself strove to appear happy and proud at becoming the wife of a hero whose strength surpassed her own; yet while she seemed to honour her liege lord, her heart longed for Siegfried, and she rued the day that had brought the Burgundians to Isenland.