Joyfully Kriemhild returned to the hall and seated herself once more beside her lord. But Blödelin went forthwith to his followers and bade them arm, which they did right willingly, for secretly they hated the Burgundians. Kriemhild in her vengeful fury had bethought her of yet another plan, and this was to cause her son Ortlieb to be brought to her. “Surely,” she thought, “will Hagen say evil words about the child to excite my wrath and thus affront my husband and his Hunnish kin, whereby strife will ensue.” Accordingly, four of Etzel’s knights were despatched to fetch the young prince thither, whereat the King was greatly pleased. Taking the boy by the hand, he said: “My friends, behold my only son! I commend him to your affection. Should he grow to be like his kin, I shall have in him a bold and stalwart hero, worthy in truth to wear my crown and fill his high estate; for many a duke and king will one day do him homage. Take him with you, I pray, unto your court, that he may gain all knightly virtues there in return for which will I give you hearty thanks!” Hagen replied: “If he lives to grow to man’s estate, full many an honor well may be his; but as to that, methinks I see an early death imprinted on his brow!” At these words terror seized the Burgundians, who gladly would have had them left unsaid, but Etzel gazed before him with a troubled look, and spoke no word. Little did he surmise the frightful thought in Hagen’s mind. _Chapter XXVII_ _Blödelin and Dankwart_ Now, the charge of the Burgundian following had been given to Dankwart, the brother of Hagen, the same who in former days had journeyed to Iceland for the wooing of Brunhild; and Blödelin’s plan was to overpower them first, and then attack the princes and their knights. Accordingly he sought that remote part of the castle wherein they had been lodged, and asked for Dankwart. He was shown into a hall where that hero with all his men was seated at the board, and from the window of which he had marked the approach of the band of armed Huns. Greeting Blödelin with fair words, he asked what brought him thither. “Nay, spare thy greetings,” said Blödelin, coldly, “I come not in peace, Sir Knight, but in good sooth to hold thee to account for thy brother Hagen’s murder of the noble Siegfried.” “By my faith,” said Dankwart, “then would thy vengeance overtake the guiltless, since I, as it chanced, did abide at the royal court when Siegfried met his death beside the spring.” “What thou hast done concerns me naught,” replied Blödelin, “it is enough that ’twas thy kinsman did the deed; and therefore must thou die!” “Gramercy!” quoth Dankwart, “methinks ’twere well I had spared my words”; and springing from his seat he swung his sword aloft and at one blow swept Blödelin’s head from his shoulders, shouting: “Be this my marriage gift unto thy bride!” For he had learned from a friendly Hun of Kriemhild’s promise to Blödelin.