LINEIK AND LAUFEY
In olden days, there once lived a king called Ring, and his queen Gytha, who reigned over a mighty kingdom. They had two children, a son and a daughter, who were both almost grown up when my story begins. The boy was called Siegfrid, and the daughter Lineik. They were both as beautiful in person as they were gifted in mind. No one in the whole kingdom was their equal; and they loved each other so dearly that the one was never happy when the other one was away. Their father, therefore, had a beautiful palace built for them, where they had as many servants as they wanted, and everything they could possibly wish for.
Here the brother and sister lived together very happily until the queen fell ill, and feeling her end was drawing near, she called the king to her bedside.
“Dear husband,” she said, “we have lived very happily together; but now my end is drawing near, and, before I die, I hope you will grant two requests I wish to make—first, if ever you marry again, do not choose your wife from any small village or lonely island, but bring your bride from one of the large cities in the neighbouring kingdoms. If you do this, good fortune will attend you. Secondly, never let any one or anything come between you and our dear children; they will bring you good luck and happiness if you always let them stand first in your love and affection.”
When the queen had spoken these words, she lay back and died. The king was very grieved at her death. He sorrowed so greatly that he never left his room and would not see any one, and all the affairs of the kingdom came to a standstill.
Then one day the prime minister came to him, and told him that there would be a rebellion, and that the country would go to ruin if he continued to shut himself up instead of attending to the affairs of his kingdom.
“It is far more kingly,” he concluded, “to pull yourself together, and try and overcome your grief for the sake of your people, than to sit alone and lament! Besides, why should you not look around for another queen, who will be worthy to succeed your late consort?”
“Alas! that will be no easy task,” said the king, sighing deeply. “I will not, however, gainsay your words. As, however, such is your advice, it is best that the responsibility of the choice should also be yours. I therefore empower you to find me a bride worthy to share my throne, and be a successor to my late wife. I only make one stipulation: you must not seek her in any small village or lonely island, but from some large neighbouring state.”
The minister, delighted that he had at last roused the king, and filled with the importance of his mission, promised to bear in mind the king’s instructions, and set about preparing for the journey. The king provided him with a magnificent outfit, and a large and imposing following, and started him on his journey.
When they had sailed for about three days on their way to the neighbouring kingdom, suddenly a thick white fog arose; they could no longer see where they were going, and for a whole month they sailed about first in one direction then in another, for they had lost all reckoning. Whichever way they steered their vessels, no land was in sight, and they were beginning to lose all heart, when at length one day they saw a faint grey line on the horizon; gradually, as they came nearer, they could distinguish hills and trees, and finding a nice gently shelving beach in a sheltered nook, they ran their boats ashore, and landing, pitched their tents on the strand. But not a single human being was in sight, all was perfectly still, and they thought they must have landed on a desert island.
While the men, tired with their exertions, were resting, the minister decided to go on a little way inland and explore; and as the sun was now very hot, for it was about mid-day, he bent his steps towards a forest he saw some little way ahead. He had not gone very long in that direction, when he suddenly heard a harp being played; following the sound, he came to an open glade, and there, sitting on a fallen tree, he saw a beautiful woman, so grand, so stately, he thought he had never before seen any one so enchanting. Her playing on the harp was so perfect, that it was happiness only to listen to her, while at her feet sat the loveliest maiden he had ever seen, whose sweet voice accompanied the harpist.
The prime minister doffed his hat and bowed courteously to the lady, who, on seeing him approach, rose and returned his greeting with much friendliness, asking him where he was going and what was the object of his journey.
The minister, quite charmed with her kindness, told her the purpose of his coming.
“How strange!” said the lady, “for almost the same thing has happened to me. I, too, have lost my husband. He was one of the great kings who reigned on this continent; but, alas! one sad day the Vikings came, they overran the whole land, killed my husband, and took possession of this country. It was only with great difficulty, and not without much danger, that I managed to escape with this maiden, who is my daughter.”
When the girl heard this, she said softly—
“Is that the truth you are speaking?”
A sharp slap on the ear, while the minister was looking at the harp, rewarded the girl’s speech.
“Don’t forget what I told you,” muttered the lady.
The prime minister, who had not noticed anything, now asked the lady what her name was, and whether he could do anything for her.
“I am called Blauvör,” she replied, “and my daughter’s name is Laufey.”
Then the minister sat down beside her and began to talk to her; finding her very clever and well-informed, and fearing that if he went further he might fare worse, he thought he could not do better than secure so wise and beautiful a wife for the king; so he made proposals for her hand in his master’s name. His embassy seemed very welcome to Blauvör, who said she would be quite willing to accompany him, and that there need be no delay, “for I have all my treasures here with me, and shall not require any attendants beyond my daughter Laufey.”
And so, without loss of time, the minister conducted Blauvör and Laufey to the shore. The tents were struck, and the whole party having got on board again, the sails were set and the ships turned homeward.
The dense fog which had accompanied them was now quite dispersed, and they saw that they had landed on a small rocky island; but all were too delighted at the thoughts of the homeward journey to take any notice of this.
A fine fresh wind drove the vessels merrily along, and after six days’ delightful sailing, they came in sight of land, and soon recognized the great high towers of the king’s castle. Then the anchors were dropped, and they speedily began to disembark, the minister at once sending a message to King Ring, to announce their arrival.
The king was delighted to hear that his minister had been so successful. He at once put on his grandest robes of state, and, accompanied by his chief ministers and all the principal courtiers, equally richly attired, he proceeded down to the shore to receive and welcome his bride.
He had only gone half way when he met his prime minister, leading two beautiful women by the hand. Both were richly dressed in gold-embroidered robes, and decked with rare jewels. When King Ring saw all this richness and beauty, he was delighted beyond measure, and when he was told that the elder and the most beautiful of the two was his destined bride, he thought himself the most fortunate of kings.
He thanked the minister warmly for what he had done, and in his joyful greeting of mother and daughter, he quite forgot to ask whence his bride and her daughter had come, but led them with great pomp into the city, and lodged them in the most magnificent rooms in the palace.
A grand wedding-feast was speedily arranged, and all the great people in the kingdom were invited, only Siegfrid and Lineik were not asked. The king was so engrossed with his beautiful bride, sitting beside her and talking to her, that he had completely forgotten them.
The wedding was one of the grandest that had ever been seen, and after this feast, all the guests received rich gifts ere they departed, and then at the end of the week the king began again to look after the affairs of his kingdom.
Thus some time passed quietly, the queen was always present when the king received his ministers, and though she never said much, whispers soon went abroad that matters were not as they should be. The queen wished everything to be done her way, and insisted on hearing all that was being arranged, so that King Ring began to think that his marriage was not, after all, such a great piece of luck as he had at first imagined.
As for Siegfrid and Lineik, the queen never asked about them, nor did she see them. They never came to the palace, but kept to their own house and grounds.
Then, after a time, some of the people about the court began to disappear. No one could find out where they had gone, or what had become of them, and it was always those who had opposed the queen in the council. The king, thinking they had gone away because they would not agree to the queen’s wishes, at first took no notice of these strange disappearances, but appointed other ministers in their place; and so things went on for some time.
Then one day the queen came to the king and said she thought it was time for him to make his journey through the country to collect the revenue.
“I have helped you so much in all your business that I can easily carry on the government while you are away, so you need not hurry home, but take your time and enjoy yourself,” she added.
The king did not much care to go away. He was getting old, and thought his prime minister might well have gone in his stead, but he was falling each day more under the queen’s rule. She was the one who settled and decided everything, and if any one ventured to oppose her they were made to rue it.
The king therefore fitted out his ships for the journey, but he was very sorrowful and sad at heart. When everything was ready for him to start, he went to the house of his two children, where of late he had seldom been. A warm greeting welcomed him, and both Siegfrid and Lineik could not make enough of their father.
When the time for bidding them farewell drew near, the king grew very sad again, and sighing deeply, said—
“I cannot tell you, my children, what a sad foreboding haunts me that some evil threatens you. If I should not return from this journey, I fear it will not be safe for you to remain here. Take my advice therefore, and go away secretly, as soon as you are sure that there is no hope of my return. When you start, remember you must go towards the East—you will then soon arrive at a high, steep rock; when you have climbed this rock you will come to a long, narrow valley. Follow this valley till you come to two beautiful trees, the one has bright, glossy green leaves, the other dark bronze ones. They are hollow, and so arranged that they can be securely fastened from the inside, the opening being invisible from the outside. You must each get into one of these trees, and as long as you remain in them, nothing can touch you.”
Then the king took a tender farewell of his children, and getting on board his ship, the sails were unfurled, and he started off on his journey. They had not, however, been long at sea, before a frightful storm arose. Peals of thunder rent the air, the lightning flashed incessantly, and the wind and rain lashed the sea till the waves rose mountains high and engulfed the ships, so that the king and all on board the ships were drowned.
That same night of the storm, Prince Siegfrid had a strange dream. He saw his father standing beside his bed, his clothes streaming with water. Bending over his son, he took the crown off his head and placed it beside Siegfrid on the pillow, and then passed silently away.
When Siegfrid awoke next morning, he told Lineik his dream, and they both agreed that this could only be a warning from their father, telling them of his death at sea.
“SHE APPEARED MORE LIKE SOME TERRIBLE GIANTESS.”
They therefore quickly gathered together all their clothes and jewels, and ere the sun had fully risen, they were well on their way on the road their father had told them of.
When they reached the foot of the hill they looked back, and there they beheld their step-mother in the distance, following them. She looked so fierce and angry, and so big, that she appeared more like some terrible giantess than an ordinary woman. Fortunately they had passed the wood at the foot of the hill, so they set fire to this, and the flames rose so quickly and brightly that their step-mother was unable to pass it, and had to go round. This gave Siegfrid and his sister time to get up the hill, but it was a long and weary climb, and once or twice Lineik was fain to sit down, but Siegfrid took her up in his arms and carried her till she was again able to walk. At last they reached the narrow valley in which stood the two trees their father had told them of. Lineik chose the one with the bronze-coloured leaves, and Siegfrid, having seen her safely fastened in, got into the other tree, drawing the opening to after him. But though no one could look into the trees, the rough, thick bark grew in such cunning twists and turns, that those inside could see everything that happened outside, and the brother and sister were thus able to talk to one another.
About this time, there reigned a great and powerful king in Greece, called Menelaus. He had two children, a son called Tellus, and a daughter called Hebe. They were beautiful, clever, and good, and it would have been difficult to find their equals in all the land.
When Tellus grew to man’s estate, he distinguished himself by many brave and noble deeds during his numerous warlike expeditions, which often carried him far away into foreign lands, and while thus travelling in search of adventures, he had more than once heard of Princess Lineik, who, it was said, surpassed all other women in beauty, wit, and goodness; so he determined to try and win her for his bride.
When he neared the island of King Ring, the wicked queen, who by her enchantments was aware of his coming and also his reasons for so doing, prepared to receive him with all honour. Dressing herself in her most magnificent garments, she ordered Laufey to do the same, and then went down to the shore with her maidens to receive him.
The prince, on landing, greeted her with great respect, and asked after King Ring, whereupon the queen, drawing forth her handkerchief, pretended to wipe away her tears, and told him that the king and all his attendants had perished at sea in a frightful gale, and declared she could never get over her great loss.
“And where is Princess Lineik?” asked Tellus.
“This is my dear step-daughter,” replied the queen, drawing Laufey forward, who, ashamed and angry, had kept in the background.
The prince seemed much surprised, for though Laufey was very pretty, yet from the fame of Lineik’s beauty he had pictured the latter as much handsomer.
But the queen, seeing his disappointment, said he must not be surprised that the dear child looked pale and sad, having lost both father and brother at one blow.
Prince Tellus thought this was but natural, so he formally demanded the princess’s hand in marriage. As may well be imagined, he did not meet with any opposition from the queen, who said she would hurry on the preparations, but Prince Tellus said he had promised his father that the marriage should take place in Greece, with all due splendour, and that the princess must therefore return with him.
The queen offered to accompany them, but this the prince would not consent to. So Laufey and her maidens were escorted to the prince’s ship, and they set sail for Greece, leaving Brunhild behind, greatly to her chagrin.
They had not sailed far, when a dense white mist overtook them. The steersman lost his reckoning, and when at length the fog lifted, they found they had sailed up a beautiful fiord. The mountains with their snowy tops rose steeply on each side at the entrance, but as they got further in, the fiord widened, and grassy slopes shelved down to the golden sands.
The prince ordered a boat to be lowered, and getting in, they rowed on till they came to the entrance of a narrow valley in which stood two beautiful trees.
The prince landed to look at them. He had never seen anything like them before, and nothing would satisfy him but to have them cut down and carried on board his ship to take back to Greece.
No sooner were they brought on board than the fog lifted. The sails were immediately unfurled, and the homeward journey was speedily effected.
On his arrival, Prince Tellus at once led Laufey to the palace, where she was received with all honour. He gave her up his own magnificent rooms, which looked on the court where the great fountains played and the beautiful doves circled amid the fruit and flower-laden trees and shrubs. Here Laufey was to spend her days, while at night she retired to the women’s apartments under the care of the queen.
The two beautiful trees, however, Prince Tellus declared he could not part from; so he had them placed in his room, one at the head and the other at the foot of his couch.
Meanwhile the preparations for the wedding went on apace.
The prince, according to the custom of the country, then brought Laufey (believing she was Lineik) three pieces of rich silk, to make him three tunics; one was blue, the other was red, and the third one was green. She was to make up the blue one first, then the red one, and last of all the green one, which was to surpass both the others in richness and beauty of design. “For,” added the prince, “the green one is the one I shall wear on our wedding-day.”
Laufey took the three bits of stuff, and the prince departed. But no sooner had he closed the door than, sitting down on the couch between the two trees, she burst into tears.
“CREEPING FORTH FROM HER TREE, GREATLY TO LAUFEY’S SURPRISE.”
Oh! what was she to do? Brunhild had never taught Laufey anything, but just let her grow up as she would, so how could she, who had never had a needle in her hand, make up or embroider these beautiful stuffs? And if the prince discovered how ignorant she was, would he not send her away with scorn and laughter, or perhaps even have her put to death for her deception?
And the poor girl sobbed and cried as if her heart would break.
Now, as has already been mentioned, Siegfrid and Lineik were inside the two beautiful trees. They could therefore see all that passed in the prince’s chamber, and when they heard poor Laufey’s lamentations, Siegfrid was so touched at sight of the girl’s tears that he said to his sister—
“Sister Lineik,
Laufey weeps;
Oh, have pity on her,
And assist her with her task.”
Then Lineik replied—
“Hast thou forgotten, oh brother,
All Brunhild’s wicked deeds,
And how she endeavoured
To kill both you and me?”
But after a while Lineik consented, and creeping forth from her tree, greatly to Laufey’s surprise, she told her who she was and how she came there. Then sitting down beside her, helped her so effectually with her skilful fingers that the tunic was soon completed, greatly to Laufey’s delight. Lineik crept back into her tree, and when Prince Tellus appeared, she showed him the garment.
“I have never seen so prettily worked a tunic,” he said, greatly pleased. “Now take the piece of red silk and let that be as much more finely embroidered as the stuff itself is richer.”
But when Laufey found herself confronted with this fresh piece of work, all her courage fled. How could she carry out the prince’s wishes? And she began to cry.
Then Siegfrid again called to his sister—
“Sister Lineik,
Laufey weeps;
Oh, have pity on her,
And assist her with her task.”
And again Lineik answered—
“Hast thou forgotten, oh brother,
Brunhild’s wicked deeds,
And how she used all endeavours
To kill both you and me?”
Nevertheless, after a while she again consented to help Laufey, and leaving her tree she sat down beside her, cut out and made up the red tunic, devoting even more care and skill than on the first one. All the seams were embroidered in gold thread, and precious stones bordered the neck and skirt.
When it was ready she gave it to Laufey, while she herself slipped back into her tree.
Prince Tellus was greatly pleased when he saw the second tunic.
“Why, this is more beautifully worked than the first tunic! I can hardly imagine how you have done it without any one to help you. Now you must make the third and last tunic. I will give you three days to finish it; and remember that this tunic must surpass both the others in beauty of design and richness of embroidery, for I shall wear it on our wedding-day.”
After the prince had gone, Laufey sat down on the couch, and felt very sad. How could she hope that Lineik would again help her? She had done so twice, notwithstanding all the ill the queen had intended against her and Siegfrid, and it was too much to expect her to aid her again, and, thinking thus sadly, the tears streamed down her cheeks.
But Prince Siegfrid was so touched by the poor girl’s grief that he again said to his sister—
“Lineik, sister,
Laufey weeps!
Oh, have pity on her,
And assist her with her task!”
And again Lineik replied—
“Hast thou forgotten, oh brother,
All Brunhild’s wicked deeds,
And how she used all her arts
To kill both you and me?”
Nevertheless, after a while, she again consented to help Laufey, and leaving her tree, she sat down beside her, and with her deft, clever fingers the work made rapid progress, and seemed to grow under her hands. This time she spent even more care and skill on the garment, and when, on the third day, it was finished, there was hardly any portion of the original stuff visible, so thickly was it covered with rich gold and silver scrolls and flowers, starred with rare and precious stones. Lineik and Laufey were so occupied admiring their work, as they sat together on the couch, that they did not hear the lifting of the curtain behind them, as Prince Tellus suddenly entered the room.
Lineik, with a cry, started up hastily, and was about to slip back into her tree; but the prince sprang after her, and taking hold of both her hands, led her back to the couch, where Laufey sat in fear and trembling.
“I have long had my suspicions that some mystery was at work here,” he then said; and, seating himself between the two girls, he continued, “Nay, do not fear me, but”—turning to Lineik—“tell me your name, and who you are, and how you came here.”
So Lineik told him who she was, and all about her home, and how she and her brother Siegfrid had come in his ship. And as he sat and listened to her, Prince Tellus thought he had never seen any one so beautiful and clever as Lineik; she was just like what he had always pictured her to himself. Then, casting an angry glance at Laufey, he told her she deserved to be put to death for her deception of him.
Then Laufey threw herself on her knees before him, and prayed for forgiveness, in which Lineik joined most heartily.
“I only deceived you about the work of the tunics,” continued Laufey; “for Lineik forbade me to say who had really worked them. You may remember that I never said I was Princess Lineik. It was Queen Brunhild—my mother, as she called herself—who thus deceived you.”
And while they were thus talking, Prince Siegfrid came forth from his tree, whereupon there were fresh explanations and much rejoicing that the mystery was explained; and Prince Tellus lost no time in claiming the hand of the rightful Princess Lineik. But Lineik said she could not promise to marry any one till her wicked stepmother, who had wrought such ill to every one, was driven forth from the kingdom she had usurped.
And now Laufey had a wondrous tale to tell. Brunhild was no queen, but a wicked ogress, who reigned over the lonely island, where the Prime Minister had found her. There she had lived in a huge cave, together with other giants and ogres.
“I also am a king’s daughter,” continued Laufey. “But Brunhild, with great skill and cunning, stole me away one day when I was playing in the fields with my little companions. She threatened to kill me if I did not obey her in everything, and called me her daughter, for she thought people would then imagine she also came of a kingly race. It was she who killed your father,” continued Laufey, turning to Siegfrid, “and all those people at your court who disappeared so mysteriously were eaten by her at night; for all ogres love human flesh. Her object was to get rid of all your chief people, and then bring over her friends the giants from the stony island, so that they might all live in your rich and fruitful kingdom.”
When they had heard this tale, Siegfrid said he must at once return home and save his country from the giants. Prince Tellus declared he would accompany him, for it was an adventure quite after his own heart. So they got together a large force, and setting sail, a favourable wind speedily brought them to the island, where they landed, and surrounded the castle before Brunhild had even heard of their arrival; for very few people were about, the greater portion having been killed by Brunhild, and the rest having fled and hidden themselves to escape from the wicked queen.
So there was but little attempt at defence, and Brunhild was taken prisoner. When she saw that her wicked plans had been discovered, and that there was no hope of escape, she screamed and raved like a madwoman. But her wicked deeds deserved no pardon. She was condemned to death, and her head cut off, after which her body was burnt on a huge funeral pile in the yard of the castle.
Then the two princes returned to Greece, and a very gay and splendid double wedding took place, at which all the greatest nobles of the kingdom took part; for on his return, Siegfrid, who during the test of the tunics had lost his heart to Laufey, now proposed for her hand.
After the festivities were over, he and his fair bride returned to his island, and great were the rejoicings that the kingdom was again under the rule of a just and kind sovereign. He and Laufey reigned long and happily, and visits were often interchanged between them and Prince Tellus and his bride Lineik, who in time became known as the wisest and best among all the rulers of Greece.