Sintram and His Companions

by Freiherr de Friedrich Heinrich Karl La Motte-Fouqué

  "But you and Biorn?" asked Gabrielle. "On the word of a knight," repliedhe, "all is well there." And thereupon he began to talk over indifferentsubjects with his usual ease and wit; but Gabrielle, bending towardshim, said with deep emotion:

  "O Folko, my knight, the flower of my life, my protector and my dearesthope on earth, tell me all, if thou mayst. But if a promise binds thee,it is different. Thou knowest that I am of the race of Portamour, andI would ask nothing from my knight which could cast even a breath ofsuspicion on his spotless shield."

  Folko thought gravely for one instant; then looking at her with a brightsmile, he said: "It is not that, Gabrielle; but canst thou bear whatI have to disclose? Wilt thou not sink down under it, as a slender firgives way under a mass of snow?"

  She raised herself somewhat proudly, and said: "I have already remindedthee of the name of my father's house. Let me now add, that I am thewedded wife of the Baron of Montfaucon."

  "Then so let it be," replied Folko solemnly; "and if that must comeforth openly which should ever have remained hidden in the darknesswhich belongs to such deeds of wickedness, at least let it come forthless fearfully with a sudden flash. Know then, Gabrielle, that thewicked knight who would have slain my friends Gotthard and Rudlieb isnone other than our kinsman and host, Biorn of the Fiery Eyes."

  Gabrielle shuddered and covered her eyes with her fair hands; but at theend of a moment she looked up with a bewildered air, and said: "I haveheard wrong surely, although it is true that yesterday evening such athought struck me. For did not you say awhile ago that all was settledand at peace between you and Biorn? Between the brave baron and such aman after such a crime?"

  "You heard aright," answered Folko, looking with fond delight on thedelicate yet high-minded lady. "This morning with the earliest dawn Iwent to him and challenged him to a mortal combat in the neighbouringvalley, if he were the man whose castle had well-nigh become an altar ofsacrifice to Gotthard and Rudlieb. He was already completely armed,and merely saying, 'I am he,' he followed me to the forest. But whenhe stood alone at the place of combat, he flung away his shield downa giddy precipice, then his sword was hurled after it, and next withgigantic strength he tore off his coat of mail, and said, 'Now fallon, thou minister of vengeance; for I am a heavy sinner, and I darenot fight with thee.' How could I then attack him? A strange trucewas agreed on between us. He is half as my vassal, and yet I solemnlyforgave him in my own name and in that of my friends. He was contrite,and yet no tear was in his eye, no gentle word on his lips. He is onlykept under by the power with which I am endued by having right on myside, and it is on that tenure that Biorn is my vassal. I know not,lady, whether you can bear to see us together on these terms; if not, Iwill ask for hospitality in some other castle; there are none in Norwaywhich would not receive us joyfully and honourably, and this wildautumnal storm may put off our voyage for many a day. Only this I think,that if we depart directly and in such a manner, the heart of thissavage man will break."

  "Where my noble lord remains, there I also remain joyfully under hisprotection," replied Gabrielle; and again her heart glowed with raptureat the greatness of her knight.

  CHAPTER 15

  The noble lady had just unbuckled her knight's armour with her ownfair hands,--on the field of battle alone were pages or esquires biddenhandle Montfaucon's armour,--and now she was throwing over his shouldershis mantle of blue velvet embroidered with gold, when the door openedgently, and Sintram entered the room, humbly greeting them. Gabriellereceived him kindly, as she was wont, but suddenly turning pale, shelooked away and said:

  "O Sintram, what has happened to you? And how can one single night haveso fearfully altered you?"

  Sintram stood still, thunderstruck, and feeling as if he himself didnot know what had befallen him. Then Folko took him by the hand, led himtowards a bright polished shield, and said very earnestly, "Look here atyourself, young knight!"

  At the first glance Sintram drew back horrified. He fancied that he sawthe little Master before him with that single upright feather stickingout of his cap; but he at length perceived that the mirror was onlyshowing him his own image and none other, and that his own wild daggerhad given him this strange and spectre-like aspect, as he could not denyto himself.

  "Who has done that to you?" asked Folko, yet more grave and solemn. "Andwhat terror makes your disordered hair stand on end?"

  Sintram knew not what to answer. He felt as if a judgment were comingon him, and a shameful degrading from his knightly rank. Suddenly Folkodrew him away from the shield, and taking him towards the rattlingwindow, he asked: "Whence comes this tempest?"

  Still Sintram kept silence. His limbs began to tremble under him; andGabrielle, pale and terrified, whispered, "O Folko, my knight, what hashappened? Oh, tell me; are we come into an enchanted castle?"

  "The land of our northern ancestors," replied Folko with solemnity, "isfull of mysterious knowledge. But we may not, for all that, call itspeople enchanters; still this youth has cause to watch himself narrowly;he whom the evil one has touched by so much as one hair of his head..."

  Sintram heard no more; with a deep groan he staggered out of the room.As he left it, he met old Rolf, still almost benumbed by the cold andstorms of the night. Now, in his joy at again seeing his young master,he did not remark his altered appearance; but as he accompanied him tohis sleeping-room he said, "Witches and spirits of the tempest musthave taken up their abode on the sea-shore. I am certain that such wildstorms never arise without some devilish arts."

  Sintram fell into a fainting-fit, from which Rolf could with difficultyrecover him sufficiently to appear in the great hall at the mid-dayhour. But before he went down, he caused a shield to be brought, sawhimself therein, and cut close round, in grief and horror, the rest ofhis long black hair, so that he made himself look almost like a monk;and thus he joined the others already assembled round the table.They all looked at him with surprise; but old Biorn rose up and saidfiercely, "Are you going to betake yourself to the cloister, as well asthe fair lady your mother?"

  A commanding look from the Baron of Montfaucon checked any furtheroutbreak; and as if in apology, Biorn added, with a forced smile, "I wasonly thinking if any accident had befallen him, like Absalom's, and ifhe had been obliged to save himself from being strangled by parting withall his hair."

  "You should not jest with holy things," answered the baron severely,and all were silent. No sooner was the repast ended, than Folko andGabrielle, with a grave and courteous salutation, retired to theirapartments.

  CHAPTER 16

  Life in the castle took from this time quite another form. Those twobright beings, Folko and Gabrielle, spent most part of the day in theirapartments, and when they showed themselves, it was with quiet dignityand grave silence, while Biorn and Sintram stood before them in humblefear. Nevertheless, Biorn could not bear the thought of his guestsseeking shelter in any other knight's abode. When Folko once spoke ofit, something like a tear stood in the wild man's eye. His head sank,and he said softly, "As you please; but I feel that if you go, I shallrun among the rocks for days."

  And thus they all remained together; for the storm continued to ragewith such increasing fury over the sea, that no sea voyage could bethought of, and the oldest man in Norway could not call to mind suchan autumn. The priests examined all the runic books, the bards lookedthrough their lays and tales, and yet they could find no record of thelike. Biorn and Sintram braved the tempest; but during the few hoursin which Folko and Gabrielle showed themselves, the father and son werealways in the castle, as if respectfully waiting upon them; the restof the day--nay, often through whole nights, they rushed through theforests and over the rocks in pursuit of bears. Folko the while calledup all the brightness of his fancy, all his courtly grace, in order tomake Gabrielle forget that she was living in this wild castle, and thatthe long, hard northern winter was setting in, which would ice them infor many a month. Sometimes he would relate bright tales; then he wouldplay the liveliest airs to induc
e Gabrielle to lead a dance with herattendants; then, again, handing his lute to one of the women, he wouldhimself take a part the dance, well knowing to express thereby aftersome new fashion his devotion to his lady. Another time he would havethe spacious halls of the castle prepared for his armed retainers togo through their warlike exercises, and Gabrielle always adjudged thereward to the conqueror. Folko often joined the circle of combatants; sothat he only met their attacks, defending himself, but depriving no oneof the prize. The Norwegians, who stood around as spectators, usedto compare him to the demi-god Baldur, one of the heroes of their oldtraditions, who was wont to let the darts of his companions be allhurled against him, conscious that he was invulnerable, and of his ownindwelling strength.

  At the close of one of these martial exercises, old Rolf advancedtowards Folko, and beckoning him with an humble look, said softly, "Theycall you the beautiful mighty Baldur,--and they are right. But even thebeautiful mighty Baldur did not escape death. Take heed to yourself."Folko looked at him wondering. "Not that I know of any treachery,"continued the old man; "or that I can even foresee the likelihood ofany. God keep a Norwegian from such a fear. But when you stand beforeme in all the brightness of your glory, the fleetingness of everythingearthly weighs down my mind, and I cannot refrain from saying, 'Takeheed, noble baron! oh, take heed! Even the most beautiful glory comes toan end.'"

  "Those are wise and pious thoughts," replied Folko calmly, "and I willtreasure them in a pure heart."

  The good Rolf was often with Folko and Gabrielle, and made a connectinglink between the two widely differing parties in the castle. For howcould he have ever forsaken his own Sintram! Only in the wild huntingexpeditions through the howling storms and tempests he no longer wasable to follow his young lord.

  At length the icy reign of winter began in all its glory. On thisaccount a return to Normandy was impossible, and therefore the magicalstorm was lulled. The hills and valleys shone brilliantly in their whiteattire of snow, and Folko used sometimes, with skates on his feet, todraw his lady in a light sledge over the glittering frozen lakes andstreams. On the other hand, the bear-hunts of the lord of the castle andhis son took a still more desperate and to them joyous course.

  About this time,--when Christmas was drawing near, and Sintram wasseeking to overpower his dread of the awful dreams by the most daringexpeditions,--about this time, Folko and Gabrielle stood together onone of the terraces of the castle. The evening was mild; the snow-cladfields were glowing in the red light of the setting sun; from belowthere were heard men's voices singing songs of ancient heroic times,while they worked in the armourer's forge. At last the songs died away,the beating of hammers ceased, and, without the speakers being seen, orthere being any possibility of distinguishing them by their voices, thefollowing discourse arose:--

  "Who is the bravest amongst all those whose race derives its origin fromour renowned land?"

  "It is Folko of Montfaucon."

  "Rightly said; but tell me, is there anything from which even this boldbaron draws back?"

  "In truth there is one thing,--and we who have never left Norway face itquite willingly and joyfully."

  "And that is--?"

  "A bear-hunt in winter, over trackless plains of snow, down frightfulice-covered precipices."

  "Truly thou answerest aright, my comrade. He who knows not how to fastenour skates on his feet, how to turn in them to the right or left at amoment's warning, he may be a valiant knight in other respects, but hehad better keep away from our hunting parties, and remain with his timidwife in her apartments." At which the speakers were heard to laugh wellpleased, and then to betake themselves again to their armourer's work.

  Folko stood long buried in thought. A glow beyond that of the eveningsky reddened his cheek. Gabrielle also remained silent, considering sheknew not what. At last she took courage, and embracing her beloved, shesaid: "To-morrow thou wilt go forth to hunt the bear, wilt thou not? andthou wilt bring the spoils of the chase to thy lady?"

  The knight gave a joyful sign of assent; and the rest of the evening wasspent in dances and music.

  CHAPTER 17

  "See, my noble lord," said Sintram the next morning, when Folko hadexpressed his wish of going out with him, "these skates of ours givesuch wings to our course, that we go down the mountain-side swiftly asthe wind; and even in going up again we are too quick for any one to beable to pursue us, and on the plains no horse can keep up with us; andyet they can only be worn with safety by those who are well practised.It seems as though some strange spirit dwelt in them, which is fearfullydangerous to any that have not learnt the management of them in theirchildhood.

  Folko answered somewhat proudly: "Do you suppose that this is the firsttime that I have been amongst your mountains? Years ago I have joined inthis sport, and, thank Heaven, there is no knightly exercise which doesnot speedily become familiar to me."

  Sintram did not venture to make any further objections, and still lessdid old Biorn. They both felt relieved when they saw with what skill andease Folko buckled the skates on his feet, without suffering any one toassist him. This day they hunted up the mountain in pursuit of a fiercebear which had often before escaped from them. Before long it wasnecessary that they should separate, and Sintram offered himself ascompanion to Folko, who, touched by the humble manner of the youth, andhis devotion to him, forgot all that had latterly seemed mysteriousin the pale altered being before him, and agreed heartily. As now theycontinued to climb higher and higher up the mountain, and saw frommany a giddy height the rocks and crags below them looking like a vastexpanse of sea suddenly turned into ice whilst tossed by a violenttempest, the noble Montfaucon drew his breath more freely. He pouredforth war-songs and love-longs in the clear mountain air, and thestartled echoes repeated from rock to rock the lays of his Frankishhome. He sprang lightly from one precipice to another, using stronglyand safely his staff for support, and turning now to the right, now tothe left, as the fancy seized him; so that Sintram was fain to exchangehis former anxiety for a wondering admiration, and the hunters, whoseeyes had never been taken off the baron, burst forth with loud applause,proclaiming far and wide fresh glory of their guest.

  The good fortune which usually accompanied Folko's deeds of arms seemedstill unwilling to leave him. After a short search, he and Sintramfound distinct traces of the savage animal, and with beating hearts theyfollowed the track so swiftly that even a winged enemy would have beenunable to escape from them. But the creature whom they sought did notattempt a flight--he lay sulkily in a cavern near the top of a steepprecipitous rock, infuriated by the shouts of the hunters, and onlywaiting in his lazy fury for some one to be bold enough to climb up tohis retreat, that he might tear him to pieces. Folko and Sintram had nowreached the foot of this rock, the rest of the hunters being dispersedover the far-extending plain. The track led the two companions up therock, and they set about climbing on the opposite sides of it, thatthey might be the more sure of not missing their prey. Folko reached thelonely topmost point first, and cast his eyes around. A wide, boundlesstract of country, covered with untrodden snow, was spread before him,melting in the distance into the lowering clouds of the gloomy eveningsky. He almost thought that he must have missed the traces of thefearful beast; when close beside him from a cleft in the rock issued along growl, and a huge black bear appeared on the snow, standing on itshind legs, and with glaring eyes it advanced towards the baron. Sintramthe while was struggling in vain to make his way up the rock against themasses of snow continually slipping down.

  Joyful at a combat so long untried as almost to be new, Folko ofMontfaucon levelled his hunting spear, and awaited the attack of thewild beast. He suffered it to approach so near that its fearful clawswere almost upon him; then he made a thrust, and the spear-head wasburied deep in the bear's breast. But the furious beast still pressed onwith a fierce growl, kept up on its hind legs by the cross-iron of thespear, and the knight was forced to plant his feet deep in the earth toresist the savage assault; and ever
close before him the grim and bloodyface of the bear, and close in his ear its deep savage growl, wrungforth partly by the agony of death, partly by thirst for blood. Atlength the bear's resistance grew weaker, and the dark blood streamedfreely upon the snow; he tottered; and one powerful thrust hurled himbackwards over the edge of the precipice. At the same instant Sintramstood by the Baron of Montfaucon. Folko said, drawing a deep breath:"But I have not yet the prize in my hands, and have it I must, sincefortune has given me a claim to it. Look, one of my skates seems to beout of order. Thinkest thou, Sintram, that it holds enough to slide downto the foot of the precipice?"

  "Let me go instead," said Sintram. "I will bring you the head and theclaws of the bear."

  "A true knight," replied Folko, with some displeasure, "never does aknightly deed by halves. What I ask is, whether my skate will stillhold?"

  As Sintram bent down to look, and was on the point of saying "No!" hesuddenly heard a voice close to him, saying, "Why, yes, to be sure;there is no doubt about it."

  Folko thought that Sintram had spoken, and slid down with the swiftnessof an arrow, whilst his companion looked up in great surprise. The hatedform of the little Master met his eyes. As he was going to address himwith angry words, he heard the sound of the baron's fearful fall, and hestood still in silent horror. There was a breathless silence also in theabyss below.