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Updated: May 26, 2025
In place of every tree stood a fierce warrior, ready to guard every step. She thought it must be all a delirious dream that would vanish with the morning. Suddenly she heard the far village clock strike the hour. Mechanically she counted one two three four up to twelve. As she pronounced the last word, Kong Tolv caught her in his arms, saying, "Thou hast named me and art mine."
But as later generations arose, they mocked at the story of Kong Tolv and the palace under the hill, and considered the whole legend but an allegory, the moral of which they did not fail to preach to their fair young daughters continually. Nevertheless, this woman had surely once lived, for her memory, embalmed by its own rich virtues, long lingered in the place where she had dwelt.
While she breathed them, the rich fairy garments crumbled from her, and she remained clad in the coarse dress she wore when Kong Tolv carried her away; save that it hung in miserable tatters, as if worn for years, and through its rents the icy wind pierced her bosom, so that the heart within might have sunk and died, but for the ever-abiding warmth of maternal love.
"Thanks, gentle maiden, for thy question has taken off the spell. Otherwise it could not be broken, even by Kong Tolv." Hyldreda shuddered with fear. Her fingers tried to seize the cross which always lay on her breast, but no! she had thrown aside the coarse black wooden crucifix, while dreaming of ornaments of gold. And it was St. John's Eve, and she stood beneath the haunted oak-wood.
No power had she to fly, and her prayers died on her lips, for she knew herself in the Hill-king's power. Kong Tolv began to woo, after the elfin fashion, brief and bold. "Fair maiden, the Dronningstolen is empty, and 'tis thou must fill it. Come and enter my palace under the hill."
But Hyldreda turned away, for Kong Tolv had commanded her never to hear or utter the holy Name. She began to inquire about her long-forgotten home, but half-carelessly, as if she had no interest in it now. "And who was it," she asked, "that wept on the hill-side until the tears dropped through, staining my palace walls?"
In a moment she stood dazzled by a blaze of light a mortal amidst the festival of the elves. She heard the voice of Kong Tolv, half-speaking, half-singing, "Welcome, maiden, fair and free, Thou hast come of thyself in the hill to me; Stay thou here, nor thy fate deplore; Thou hast come of thyself in at my door."
No remembrance of lost kindred troubled her, for she sat in the Dronningstolen, and all the elfin people bowed down before the wife of the mighty Kong Tolv. She might have lived so always, with no desire ever to go back to earth, save that one day she saw trickling down through the palace roof a pearly stream.
"I tremble at the very thought of the Elle-people of whom our villagers tell, while thou hast not a single fear. Why is it, sister?" "I know not, save that I never yet feared any thing," answered Hyldreda, carelessly. "As for Kong Tolv, let him come, I care not."
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