“Who would have thought,” he cried, “that that beautiful maiden loved a giant so horrible as this Pict? Had I known, I would never have fought him, but her eyes said to me, ‘Kill him,’ and I did so; this is how she rewards me!”
“No,” replied Martin, laughing, “this is how”; and he cut Hereward’s bonds. “Master, you were so angry with the lady that you could not see what was happening. I knew that she must have pretended to grieve, for her father’s sake, and when she came to test our bonds I was sure of it, for at that moment she put a knife into my hands, and told me to use it. Now we are free from our bonds, and must try to escape from our prison.”
In vain, however, they searched for an exit; it was a tiny chapel, with walls and doors of great thickness. Having tried every possible way and sitting down on the altar steps, Hereward asked Martin what good was freedom from bonds in a secure prison.
“Much,” replied the servant; “at least we die with free hands; and I believe that the princess has some good plan, if only we are ready.”
While he was speaking they heard footsteps just outside the door, and the sound of a key in the lock. The two stood ready, one at each side of the door, to make a dash for freedom, and Martin was prepared to kill any who should enter. To their great surprise, the princess entered, accompanied by an old priest. The princess turned to Hereward, crying, “Pardon me, my deliverer!”
The Saxon was still sad and surprised, and replied: “Do you now say ‘deliverer’? This afternoon it was ‘murderer, villain, cut-throat.’ How shall I know which is your real mind?”
The princess almost laughed as she said: “How stupid men are! What could I do but pretend to hate you, since otherwise the Picts would have killed you then and us all afterwards, but now you were our prisoners. How else could I have come here tonight? Now tell me, if I set you free, will you swear to carry a message for me?”
“Where shall I go, lady, and what shall I say?” asked Hereward, meekly.
“Take this ring, my ring of betrothal, and go to Prince Sigtryg, son of King Ranald of Waterford. Say to him that I am beset on every side, and pray that he comes and claims me as his bride; otherwise I fear I may be forced to marry some man of my father’s choice, like that Pictish giant. From him you have saved me, and I thank you; but if Sigtryg delays his coming it may be too late, for there are other hateful suitors who would suit my father, but not me. Ask him to come with all speed.”
“Lady, I will go now,” said Hereward, “if you will set me free from this cell.”
“Go quickly, and safely,” said the princess; “but before you go you must bind me hand and foot, and put me, with this old priest, on the ground.”
“Never,” said Hereward, “will I bind a woman; it is disgraceful!”
But Martin only laughed, and the maiden said again: “How stupid men are! I must pretend to have been overpowered by you, or I shall be accused of having freed you, but I will say that I came here to question you, and you and your man bound me and the priest, bound us, took the key, and so escaped. So shall you be free, and I shall have no blame, and my father no danger; and may Heaven forgive the lie.”
Hereward reluctantly agreed, and, with Martin’s help, bound the two hand and foot and laid them before the altar; then, kissing the maiden’s hand, and swearing loyalty and truth, he turned to leave. But the princess had one question to ask.
“Who are you, noble stranger, so chivalrous and strong? I would like know for whom to pray.”
“I am Hereward Leofricsson[70], and my father is the Earl of Mercia.”
“Are you that Hereward who killed the Fairy Bear? No wonder that you managed to kill the Pictish monster and set me free[71].”
Then master and man left the chapel, after carefully turning the key in the lock. They succeeded in getting a ship to carry them to Ireland, and eventually reached Waterford.
The Danish kingdom of Waterford was ruled by King Ranald, whose only son, Sigtryg, was about Hereward’s age, and was as noble-looking a youth as the Saxon hero. The king was at a feast, and Hereward, entering the hall with the captain of the ship, sat down at one of the lower tables. But he was not one of those who can pass unnoticed. The prince saw him and his noble bearing, and asked him to come to the king’s own table. Hereward gladly did so, and as he drank to the prince and their goblets touched together he dropped the ring from the Cornish[72] princess into Sigtryg’s cup. The prince saw and recognised it as he drained his cup, and soon left the hall, followed by his guest.
Outside in the darkness Sigtryg turned hurriedly to Hereward, saying, “You bring me a message from my betrothed?”
“Yes, if you are that Prince Sigtryg to whom the Princess of Cornwall was promised.”
“Was promised! What do you mean? She is still my lady and my love.”
“Yet you leave her there without your support, while her father gives her in marriage to a horrible Pictish giant, breaking her betrothal, and driving the helpless maid into despair[73]. What kind of love is yours?”
Hereward said nothing yet about the killing of the giant, because he wished to test Prince Sigtryg’s sincerity, and he was satisfied, for the prince burst out[74]: “I wish to God I had gone to her before! but my father needed my help against foreign invaders and native rebels. I will go immediately and save my lady or die with her!”
“No need of that, for I killed that giant,” said Hereward coolly, and Sigtryg embraced him in joy and they swore blood-brotherhood together.
Then he asked: “What message do you bring me, and what means her ring?”
The other replied by repeating the Cornish maiden’s words, and asking him to start at once if he wanted to save his betrothed from some other hateful marriage.
The prince went to his father, told him the whole story, and got a ship and men to journey to Cornwall and rescue the princess; then, with Hereward by his side, he set sail, and soon landed in Cornwall, hoping to reach his bride peaceably. Alas!—he learnt that the princess had just been promised to a wild Cornish leader, Haco[75], and the wedding feast was to be held that very day. Sigtryg was greatly enraged, and sent forty Danes to King Alef demanding the fulfilment of the promise, and threatening vengeance if it were broken. To this the king returned no answer, and no Dane came back to tell of their reception.
Sigtryg would have waited till morning, trusting in the honour of the king, but Hereward disguised himself as a minstrel and got to the wedding feast, where he soon won applause by his beautiful singing. The bridegroom, Haco, offered him any gift he liked to ask, but he demanded only a cup of wine from the hands of the bride. When she brought it to him he put her betrothal ring inside, the very token she had sent to Sigtryg, and said: “I thank you, lady, give back the cup, richer than before.”
The princess looked at him, then into the goblet, and saw her ring; then, looking again, she recognised her deliverer and knew that rescue was at hand[76].
While men feasted, Hereward listened and talked, and found out that the forty Danes were prisoners, to be released in the morning when Haco was sure of his bride, but released useless and miserable, since they would be blinded. Haco was taking his lovely bride back to his own land, and Hereward saw that any rescue, to be successful, must be attempted on the march. Yet he knew not the way the bridal company would go, and he lay down to sleep in the hall, hoping that he might hear something more. When everything was still, a dark shape came through the hall and touched Hereward on the shoulder. It was the princess’s old nurse. “Come to her now,” the old woman whispered, and Hereward went,