Wilhelm Wägner - Epics and Romances of the Middle Ages

When the emperor was ready, he desired the ambassadors to be brought to him in the throne-room, where he received them courteously. At first all went well. Constantine was pleased that his friendship and alliance should be sought by the ruler of the West, and expressed his delight in no scant terms; but when Leupold went on to say that his royal master had also commissioned him to ask in his name for the hand of the Princess Oda, the emperor’s wrath knew no bounds, and he ordered his guards to seize the “foreign hounds” and cast them into prison.

When the guards had left the hall with the twelve ambassadors, Constantine began to pace the floor, rubbing his hands, and muttering, “Behead, drown, hang—which shall it be? Ah, it were best to hang them. It would be a grand sight! Twelve fine gentlemen in gorgeous raiment brought at once to the gallows. St. Maurice grant that the wondrous spectacle may bring us glory!”

“Constantine,” said the kindly empress, “beware what you do. Is our beautiful daughter never to marry? Would it not be a good thing to give her to King Rother, and let her rule the West with him, as we the East? If you slay the messengers he has sent, Rother will assuredly ally himself with the heathen king of Desert-Babylon, and, with his help, seek your destruction.”

“St. Michael and his holy angels will protect us against the might of the godless host of infidels,” replied the emperor sanctimoniously.

“Ah,” said the prudent wife, “do not be too sure of that. He has other things to do. He has to fight for the conversion and salvation of the wild heathen tribes. Take my advice, and keep Rother’s messengers as hostages, that our hands may be strengthened when their king comes over the western sea and demands them from us at the head of his army.”

The counsel pleased the emperor, and he gave orders that the prisoners should be well guarded.

The weeks and months rolled into a year, and still the ambassadors did not return to Bari. Every heart was full of an undefined dread. Had they perished at sea, or at the hands of the cruel tyrant to whom they had been sent? None could answer.

Old Berchther one day went to the king, and said, “Sire, my heart is sad. I can bear my sorrow no longer. I had twelve goodly sons. Helfrich, the eldest, was slain fighting the barbarians near the Elbe in the far north. Seven have gone to Constantinople in your service, and have never returned. I will go and see if I can find them.”

“You must not go alone,” returned the king. “I will call a meeting of the royal council, and ask my wise advisers what were best to be done.”

After a stormy discussion, in which weighty arguments were often enforced with still weightier blows, it was determined to follow the advice of the eldest counsellors. These aged and reverend men were of opinion that it would be bad policy to send an army against Constantinople; for were the messengers still alive, the emperor would assuredly put them to death when he found that Rother had appeared in the guise of an enemy. It would be far better, they contended, to send a richly appointed embassage, composed of good men and true, to spy out the land, and see if it were not possible to save their friends, and gain the hand of the princess at the same time.

King Rother announced his intention of placing himself at the head of the expedition, and as Berchther refused to be left behind, Count Amelger of Tengeling was appointed regent.

Preparations for their departure went on apace. Noble warriors came from all parts of the kingdom to offer their services. Among those accepted were twelve men who were so tall and so heavy, that they could nowhere have found horses strong enough to bear their weight. King Rother alone knew who they were, and he received them as old and trusted friends. They were Asprian (Osbern), chief of the Northern giants, and eleven of his tallest men.

At length all was ready, and the ship set sail amidst a blare of trumpets. A fair wind filled the sheets, which were edged with cloth of silver, and the vessels glided through the glassy deep as if drawn by swans. The king stood high on the deck of his galley: when he touched his harp and sang of woman’s love and manly courage, the hearts of the heroes were fired to deeds of daring. And the mermaids and dolphins dipt their heads out of the waves, and played about the prows, and listened to the lay.

Then Rother called his chiefs about him, and told them that he intended to go cunningly to work when he got to Constantinople. He would introduce himself to the emperor as Dietrich, a noble of King Rother’s country, who had been outlawed by his sovereign, and who now craved Constantine’s protection. He further desired them to begin at once to call him by his assumed name, that they might make no mistakes on their arrival.

The voyage was uneventful, and the adventurers soon reached their destination.

The first to land were “Dietrich” and old Berchther, and then followed the flower of Rother’s army. Lastly the giants appeared, inspiring awe and fear in every heart. All were clothed like princes in splendid attire and with jewelled armour.

The empress received the strangers with courtly grace, and even the emperor looked pleased to see them. “Strangers,” he said, “we should like to know from whence you come, who you are, and what brings you to our good city. Before granting you permission to remain here, we would fain know more about you.”

“Mighty sovereign of Greece, Hungary and Bulgaria,” answered Dietrich, “we come from the realm of King Rother, where I bore the title and power of duke. I helped my liege lord in all his battles; but as I was always victorious, he grew jealous of my good fortune, and I had to fly for my life. I have come here as a fugitive with my faithful vassals, and all the wealth I could carry, and now I entreat of you to grant me your protection, for which I will repay you by faithful service in the field.”

“You are an honest man,” replied the emperor, “and you shall receive a fitting welcome. I was afraid at first that you had come on the same errand as the ambassadors of King Rother, who asked me to give my daughter in marriage to their master. I have them safe under lock and key, where even the light of the sun cannot reach them. Had your request been the same as theirs, you and your men should have suffered the like fate.”

On hearing these words the giant Asprian started forward, the whole room trembling beneath his mighty tread. “My lord,” he cried, laying his hand upon his sword, “you might perhaps have found that a more difficult task than you imagine. Before you took us prisoners many of your guard would lie low, and who can tell whether you yourself would have escaped scatheless? We are not lambs to be slaughtered at the will of any man.”

Constantine did not much like this address, and tried to smooth down the ruffled feelings of the giant. After some further conversation he invited the strangers to dine at his table. While they were eating, a tame lion, of which the emperor was very fond, began to steal the food from under the hands of the guests. Asprian’s wrath was roused by the tempting morsel being snatched away from him, and starting up he seized the beast in his powerful hands, and flung him with such force against the stone wall of the banqueting room, that he fell, never to rise again. Constantine desired the guards to turn the giant out of the hall, but the empress whispered, “Oh, take care what you do. That man is not to be defied with impunity. King Rother must be very powerful to have outlawed such men as these. Take my advice, and set his messengers free. Let them take our daughter home with them that she may be the wife of a great king, and that she may induce her husband to be our friend and ally.”