But Gerlinda only redoubled her entreaties. “Nay—if thou wilt but be guided by my words, my son, then shall the foe be brought to naught before the castle and never win back her we hold captive here.”
Seeing that Hartmut remained unmoved, she turned to his knights and cried: “Throw not away your lives so foolishly, but stay within and fling down stones and beams upon the enemy, or slay them with bolts from your arblasts.”
Hartmut sprang up angrily: “Peace, I say! nor longer seek to counsel those who know better than thou what were best to do. Shame enough was it to me that I once did flee before them on the Wulpensand, and this stain will I to-day wipe out that my honor may once more shine as bright as gold. Aye, on the field of battle will I meet them, come what may, for rather would I there be slain than live pent up within these walls.”
Gerlinda dared not gainsay him further, but turned weeping to the knights: “I beseech you, sirs, to guard my gallant son with all your power. If you but equal him in valor then surely will a splendid victory be ours!”
“Now thou hast spoken well, my mother,” said Hartmut, “and all who loyally stand by me to-day against the foe, shall share, I promise on my honor, in the spoils.”
Chapter XVIII
Hartmut Fights with Ortwin and Horant
Soon the gates of the huge castle were thrown open, and Hartmut rode forth followed by three thousand of his knights, leaving the rest to guard the gates and walls of the castle. Proudly waved their banners, and helm and armor glittered in the morning sun. Wate’s hunting-horn sounded for the third time, so mighty a blast that it almost seemed to shake the walls and cause great forest trees to tremble. The old hero bade Horant lead the van and bear Queen Hilda’s banner, while he rode hither and thither disposing his men in battle array. At a turret window Gudrun stood, waving a white kerchief.
As the Norman knights appeared, Ortwin asked: “Who may yon hero be who leads the band? His armor gleams like lightning in the sun, and nobly doth he bear him. Methinks an emperor would scarcely ride more proudly.”
“That, my lord, is Hartmut,” replied one of the knights; “he who did steal away thy sister.”
“Ha! is it so?” cried Ortwin; “now had the wicked Gerlinda best aid him to find his way back in safety to the castle!” And he lowered his spear and plunged the spurs into the flanks of his snow-white charger so that it bounded high in the air.