The princes now entered the guardroom, attended by two knights. The young king was pale with horror at the fearful tidings he had just heard; but his brother, Junker Christopherson, was burning with wrath and indignation. The queen turned from the balcony and approached them. "My sons," she said, "your royal father is dead! Bear this sorrow as beseems his sons and avengers! Those who caused his death, thirst after your blood, and mine also, and are now approaching this castle with bold audacity; but if you are my children, these tidings will not alarm you." Junker Christopherson now became pale and uneasy: he looked over the balcony, and stepped hastily back with alarm. But that which so frightened him, brought back the blood into the cheeks of the little King Erik. "My sword and my royal helmet!" he cried, in a tone of command. "I am now your king, and it is my business to defend this castle and the kingdom. It shall be my first duty to proclaim the death and downfall of my father's godless murderer. Is the castle in a state of defence, Sir Thorstenson?" The bold knight regarded with astonishment the prince, who now, for the first time, spoke to him with the authority of a chief and king. He bowed respectfully, and hastily informed him of all that had been done for the defence of the castle; taking care, at the same time, not to lose sight of the movements of the hostile horsemen. "Good, good!" said Erik, nodding. A trabant now presented to the young king a short sword with a gilt handle, and a little gilt helmet with a crown and high feather. Erik hung the sword by his side, placed the helmet on his head, and, with his mother, stepped on to the balcony. The troop of horsemen had halted at some distance from the palace, and the monk-clad chiefs seemed to be holding council. At length a tall, gigantic figure, in a gray cloak and hood, accompanied by two persons of less stature, but in the same disguise, rode leisurely towards the side of the outer ditch nearest the lofty balcony, high above the fortress walls, where stood the queen and the young king, closely attended by trabants, ready, on a signal from their chief, to form a shield of defence around the royal personages. The sun had just arisen, and shone upon the noble form and fair, pale face of the queen, sad the chivalrous young king on her right. This spectacle appeared to make a singular impression on the hostile giant-like figure, who more than once stopped his horse. At length he reached the ditch opposite the balcony, where, throwing the monk's hood and cloak from his head and shoulders, he appeared, in closed helmet and tarnished black steel harness, like a statue of bronze on his charger, as, with sparkling eyes, he gazed upon the queen and the prince through the grating of his visor.