Herwig landed in a small bay. His heart was wrung when he saw the devastation caused by the cruel Moor, and knew that he was not strong enough to offer him battle. But he was not idle for all that. He and his three thousand followers separated into companies, cut off isolated bands of free-booters, and harassed the enemy as much as they could. So matters went on for days and weeks. At length the Hegeling fleet arrived with Hettel and his heroes. A great battle was fought by sea and land, but, although the Moors suffered terrible loss, both in men and ships, it was by no means a decisive battle. Siegfried knew that he had now no hope of winning the victory in open war, but still he trusted to the chapter of accidents to get him out of his difficulties. And he did not hope in vain.
Whilst King Hettel and his heroes were fighting in Zealand, Hartmut, with a large Norman army, had fallen upon the land of the Hegelings. Ludwig had accompanied his son. Together they had stormed the palace at the head of their men, had taken it, and had carried away the Princess Gudrûn and her maidens; amongst whom was Hildburg, granddaughter of that Hildburg whom Hagen found on the griffin’s strand.
The first messenger, who brought the news of the Norman invasion, was soon followed by a second, with tidings of the storming of the castle, and the carrying off of Gudrûn. The first thought in every mind was to set off in pursuit of the robbers; King Hettel sent to offer terms to Siegfried, telling him at the same time of what had chanced, and the Moorish king immediately offered to help to rescue the princess; so an alliance was concluded between Hettel, Herwig, and Siegfried without more ado.
This being settled, they turned their attention to the ships; but great was their despair when they found that most of them had been burnt in the fight, and of those that remained very few were seaworthy. Herwig and his men would have started alone in the few vessels that remained, but Irolt the Frisian stopped them, by drawing their attention to a fleet that was already approaching the shore. The masts and flags of the coming ships all bore the sign of the cross, and on deck were figures in long grey garments, with the staff of peace in their hands.
“They are pilgrims going to the Holy Sepulchre,” said Horand the minstrel.
The pilgrims disembarked and pitched their tents on the strand, to enjoy a little rest after their long and toilsome voyage.
“Necessity knows no law,” said Wate. “These pious men must put off their journey for a little. They have plenty of time to do their penance in. Let us borrow their vessels and provisions. If we return, we can reward them richly for the enforced loan.”
Horand and Frute warned their friends that such a deed would surely bring its punishment. The pilgrims raised their hands in piteous entreaty. All in vain. King Hettel decided to take the ships, and Wate and Herwig voted with him.
So the heroes sailed over the high seas in pursuit of the Normans, in ships that bore the cross as their pennon.
After many days’ sail they saw before them a low flat island, called the Wölpensand, and on it a great army was encamped, upon whose banners was depicted a raven with widespread wings, the ensign of the Normans. They were able to get quite close to the land, thanks to the pilgrims’ ships, before their real character was discovered. But no sooner was it known, than the Normans sprang to their feet, and shouting their battle-cry, stood ready to defend themselves.