“But why should I have to expiate a murder of which I knew nothing?”
“That cannot be helped,” said the Hun; “my men’s swords cannot return unstained to their sheaths.”
“Then I am sorry that I gave you words of peace. I shall now give you your answer with cold steel.”
With that he drew his sword, and swung it so lustily at the warrior’s neck that his head fell to the ground at one blow.
Wild shrieks and shouts of vengeance arose, and all prepared to take part in the fight that had become inevitable. Dankwart made his way fighting to the hall, his armour bespattered with blood; but the defenceless serving-men were slain to a man.
“Up, brother Hagen!” he cried, “save me from the faithless Huns. Lord Blödelin attacked both me and the servants, in order to avenge Siegfried’s death. I slew him, but the servants are all dead, and I alone am escaped out of the traitorous toils that the Huns have laid for us.”
The Slaughter.
The fight recommenced in the banqueting hall, in spite of all King Gunther’s efforts to smooth matters over, and during the struggle the little Prince Ortlieb, the sole hope of Etzel’s house, was killed. At length Hagen, Dankwart, and Volker, succeeded in locking and bolting the doors of the hall.
Etzel and the queen sat full of anxious care during the mêlée. Dietrich and Rüdiger, neither of whom took part in the fight, were also grave and sad. At length the hero of Bern exclaimed:
“Listen to me, Nibelungs. Hearken to my words, ye friends of Burgundy. Grant me a truce that I and my men and Margrave Rüdiger may go away unharmed.”