Just then a shout arose from the men:
|
"Hail, all hail, The hero of Brabant!" |
they cried.
The Swan Knight entered. His armor glittered in the sunlight. A sword hung at his side, a horn from his shoulder. How strong he was! How brave! But how strangely sad was his face. He advanced, helmet in hand, and stood before the King. Making a low obeisance, he strode toward the bier of the dead Frederick. He uncovered the body, and then solemnly asked the King's pardon for having killed this man who had stolen by stealth upon him.
"Nay, ask not our pardon!" spoke the just King. "We approve your deed!"
And all the men of Brabant nodded in assent.
But that was not all the Swan Knight had to tell. His wife, Elsa of Brabant, had broken her promise. She had asked his name. And since it was a law of the Order to which he belonged, he would make public answer to her question. But then he must depart to the distant land from which he had come.
Astonishment spread like wildfire among the people. As for Elsa, she sat like a creature of stone. Only Ortrud, who had crept near to listen, smiled in ill-concealed triumph.
The Swan Knight's face was suffused with holy light. The eyes of his soul seemed to be peering far, far away into the distance beyond the winding river, beyond the gray hills, perhaps to the very gates of heaven itself.
He told the tale of a marvelous Temple rising from the heights of Mount Salvat, wherein, upon a mystic shrine, rested the sacred chalice called the Holy Grail. He told of the few chosen knights who guarded the wondrous Grail, and who, by its Heaven-given powers, were protected from baneful harm and endowed with supernatural might. Whenever an innocent cause needed a champion, whenever a grievous wrong had been done, one of the knights sallied forth and defended the one who had been falsely accused. But it was a law that no one might know from whence he came or by what name he was called. For if once the truth were revealed, his power was gone; the knight must hasten back to the Temple of the Grail.