r, the champion, greeted the heroes of the
Amelung land. Lord Giselher made many a gleaming helmet red and wot with
blood. Dankwart, Hagen's brother, a fierce man was he; whatever he had
done before to Etzel's warriors in strife was as a wind to the fury with
which bold Aldrian's son now fought. Ritschart (6) and Gerbart, Helfrich
and Wichart had spared themselves full seldom in many battle storms;
this they now made Gunther's liegemen note full well. Wolfbrand, too,
was seen in the strife bearing him in lordly wise. Old Hildebrand fought
as though he raged. At Wolfhart's hands many good knights, struck by the
sword, must needs fall dead down into the blood. Thus the bold champions
and good avenged Knight Rudeger.

Then Lord Siegstab fought as his prowess bade him. Ho, what good helmets
of his foes this son of Dietrich's sister clove in the strife! Nor
might he ever do better in the fray. When sturdy Folker espied that bold
Siegstab hewed a bloody stream from the hard armor rings, wroth of mood
the hero grew. He sprang to meet him, and Siegstab lost his life full
soon at the fiddler's hands, for Folker gave him such a sample of his
art, that he soon lay dead, slain by his sword. This old Hildebrand
avenged, as his might did bid him.

"Alas for my dear lord," spake Master Hildebrand, "who lieth here dead
at Folker's hands. Now shall the fiddler no longer live."

How might bold Hildebrand ever be fiercer? Folker he smote, so that
on all sides the clasps flew to the walls of the hall from helmet and
shield of the doughty gleeman. Thus stout Folker was done to death. At
this the men of Dietrich pressed forward to the strife. They smote so
that the armor rings whirled far and wide, and high through the air
the sword-points wore seen to fly. From the helmets they drew the warm
gushing stream of blood. When Hagen of Troneg saw Folker dead, that was
the greatest sorrow, that he had gained at the feasting in kinsman or
in liegeman. Alas, how fiercely Hagen gan venge the knight! "Now old
Hildebrand shall not profit by this deed. My helpmate lieth slain by the
hero's hand, the best war comrade that I did ever win." Higher he raised
his helmet, and ran, slashing as he went.

Stout Helfrich slew Dankwart. Loth enow it was to Gunther and Giselher,
when they saw him fall in cruel need, but with his own hands he himself
had well avenged his death. Meanwhile Wolfhart raged back and forth,
hewing alway King Gunther's men. For the thir