Myths of the Norsemen Part 40

On his way to the land of the Volsungs a most marvellous sight was seen, for there came a man walking on the waters. Sigurd straightway took him on board his dragon s.h.i.+p, and the stranger, who gave his name as Feng or Fiollnir, promised favourable winds. Also he taught Sigurd how to distinguish auspicious omens. In reality the old man was Odin or Hnikar, the wave-stiller, but Sigurd did not suspect his ident.i.ty.

The Fight with the Dragon

Sigurd was entirely successful in his descent upon Lygni, whom he slew, together with many of his followers. He then departed from his reconquered kingdom and returned with Regin to slay Fafnir. Together they rode through the mountains, which ever rose higher and higher before them, until they came to a great tract of desert which Regin said was the haunt of Fafnir. Sigurd now rode on alone until he met a one-eyed stranger, who bade him dig trenches in the middle of the track along which the dragon daily dragged his slimy length to the river to quench his thirst, and to lie in wait in one of these until the monster pa.s.sed over him, when he could thrust his sword straight into its heart.

Sigurd gratefully followed this counsel, and was rewarded with complete success, for as the monster's loathsome folds rolled overhead, he thrust his sword upward into its left breast, and as he sprang out of the trench the dragon lay gasping in the throes of death.

"Then all sank into silence, and the son of Sigmund stood On the torn and furrowed desert by the pool of Fafnir's blood, And the Serpent lay before him, dead, chilly, dull, and grey; And over the Glittering Heath fair shone the sun and the day, And a light wind followed the sun and breathed o'er the fateful place, As fresh as it furrows the sea-plain, or bows the acres' face."

Regin had prudently remained at a distance until all danger was past, but seeing that his foe was slain, he now came up. He was fearful lest the young hero should claim a reward, so he began to accuse him of having murdered his kin, but, with feigned magnanimity, he declared that instead of requiring life for life, in accordance with the custom of the North, he would consider it sufficient atonement if Sigurd would cut out the monster's heart and roast it for him on a spit.

"Then Regin spake to Sigurd: 'Of this slaying wilt thou be free?

Then gather thou fire together and roast the heart for me, That I may eat it and live, and be thy master and more; For therein was might and wisdom, and the grudged and h.o.a.rded lore: --Or, else depart on thy ways afraid from the Glittering Heath.'"

Sigurd was aware that a true warrior never refused satisfaction of some kind to the kindred of the slain, so he agreed to the seemingly small proposal, and immediately prepared to act as cook, while Regin dozed until the meat was ready. After an interval Sigurd touched the roast to ascertain whether it were tender, but burning his fingers severely, he instinctively thrust them into his mouth to allay the smart. No sooner had Fafnir's blood thus touched his lips than he discovered, to his utter surprise, that he could understand the songs of the birds, many of which were already gathering round the carrion. Listening attentively, he found that they were telling how Regin meditated mischief against him, and how he ought to slay the old man and take the gold, which was his by right of conquest, after which he ought to partake of the heart and blood of the dragon. As this coincided with his own wishes, he slew the evil old man with a thrust of his sword and proceeded to eat and drink as the birds had suggested, reserving a small portion of Fafnir's heart for future consumption. He then wandered off in search of the mighty h.o.a.rd, and, after donning the Helmet of Dread, the hauberk of gold, and the ring Andvaranaut, and loading Greyfell with as much gold as he could carry, he sprang to the saddle and sat listening eagerly to the birds'

songs to know what his future course should be.

The Sleeping Warrior Maiden

Soon he heard of a warrior maiden fast asleep on a mountain and surrounded by a glittering barrier of flames, through which only the bravest of men could pa.s.s to arouse her.

"On the fell I know A warrior maid to sleep; Over her waves The linden's bane: Ygg whilom stuck A sleep-thorn in the robe Of the maid who Would heroes choose."

Lay of Fafnir (Thorpe's tr.).

This adventure was the very thing for Sigurd, and he set off at once. The way lay through trackless regions, and the journey was long and cheerless, but at length he came to the Hindarfiall in Frankland, a tall mountain whose cloud-wreathed summit seemed circled by fiery flames.

"Long Sigurd rideth the waste, when, lo, on a morning of day, From out of the tangled crag-walls, amidst the cloudland grey, Comes up a mighty mountain, and it is as though there burns A torch amidst of its cloud-wreath; so thither Sigurd turns, For he deems indeed from its topmost to look on the best of the earth; And Greyfell neigheth beneath him, and his heart is full of mirth."

Sigurd rode up the mountain side, and the light grew more and more vivid as he proceeded, until when he had neared the summit a barrier of lurid flames stood before him. The fire burned with a roar which would have daunted the heart of any other, but Sigurd remembered the words of the birds, and without a moment's hesitation he plunged bravely into its very midst.

"Now Sigurd turns in his saddle, and the hilt of the Wrath he s.h.i.+fts, And draws a girth the tighter; then the gathered reins he lifts, And crieth aloud to Greyfell, and rides at the wildfire's heart; But the white wall wavers before him and the flame-flood rusheth apart, And high o'er his head it riseth, and wide and wild its roar As it beareth the mighty tidings to the very heavenly floor: But he rideth through its roaring as the warrior rides the rye, When it bows with the wind of the summer and the hid spears draw anigh; The white flame licks his raiment and sweeps through Greyfell's mane, And bathes both hands of Sigurd and the hilt of Fafnir's bane, And winds about his war-helm and mingles with his hair, But nought his raiment dusketh or dims his glittering gear; Then it fails and fades and darkens till all seems left behind, And dawn and the blaze is swallowed in mid-mirk stark and blind."

The threatening flames having now died away, Sigurd pursued his journey over a broad tract of white ashes, directing his course to a great castle, with s.h.i.+eld-hung walls. The great gates stood wide open, and Sigurd rode through them unchallenged by warders or men at arms. Proceeding cautiously, for he feared some snare, he at last came to the centre of the courtyard, where he saw a rec.u.mbent form cased in armour. Sigurd dismounted from his steed and eagerly removed the helmet, when he started with surprise to behold, instead of a warrior, the face of a most beautiful maiden.

All his efforts to awaken the sleeper were vain, however, until he had removed her armour, and she lay before him in pure-white linen garments, her long hair falling in golden waves around her. Then as the last fastening of her armour gave way, she opened wide her beautiful eyes, which met the rising sun, and first greeting with rapture the glorious spectacle, she turned to her deliverer, and the young hero and the maiden loved each other at first sight.

"Then she turned and gazed on Sigurd, and her eyes met the Volsung's eyes.

And mighty and measureless now did the tide of his love arise, For their longing had met and mingled, and he knew of her heart that she loved, And she spake unto nothing but him and her lips with the speech-flood moved."

The maiden now proceeded to tell Sigurd her story. Her name was Brunhild, and according to some authorities she was the daughter of an earthly king whom Odin had raised to the rank of a Valkyr. She had served him faithfully for a long while, but once had ventured to set her own wishes above his, giving to a younger and therefore more attractive opponent the victory which Odin had commanded for another.

In punishment for this act of disobedience, she had been deprived of her office and banished to earth, where Allfather decreed she should wed like any other member of her s.e.x. This sentence filled Brunhild's heart with dismay, for she greatly feared lest it might be her fate to mate with a coward, whom she would despise. To quiet these apprehensions, Odin took her to Hindarfiall or Hindfell, and touching her with the Thorn of Sleep, that she might await in unchanged youth and beauty the coming of her destined husband, he surrounded her with a barrier of flame which none but a hero would venture through.

From the top of Hindarfiall, Brunhild now pointed out to Sigurd her former home, at Lymdale or Hunaland, telling him he would find her there whenever he chose to come and claim her as his wife; and then, while they stood on the lonely mountain top together, Sigurd placed the ring Andvaranaut upon her finger, in token of betrothal, swearing to love her alone as long as life endured.

"From his hand then draweth Sigurd Andvari's ancient Gold; There is nought but the sky above them as the ring together they hold, The shapen ancient token, that hath no change nor end, No change, and no beginning, no flaw for G.o.d to mend: Then Sigurd cried: 'O Brynhild, now hearken while I swear, That the sun shall die in the heavens and the day no more be fair, If I seek not love in Lymdale and the house that fostered thee, And the land where thou awakedst 'twixt the woodland and the sea!'

And she cried: 'O Sigurd, Sigurd, now hearken while I swear That the day shall die for ever and the sun to blackness wear, Ere I forget thee, Sigurd, as I lie 'twixt wood and sea In the little land of Lymdale and the house that fostered me!'"

The Fostering of Aslaug

According to some authorities, the lovers parted after thus plighting their troth; but others say that Sigurd soon sought out and wedded Brunhild, with whom he lived for a while in perfect happiness until forced to leave her and his infant daughter Aslaug. This child, left orphaned at three years of age, was fostered by Brunhild's father, who, driven away from home, concealed her in a cunningly fas.h.i.+oned harp, until reaching a distant land he was murdered by a peasant couple for the sake of the gold they supposed it to contain. Their surprise and disappointment were great indeed when, on breaking the instrument open, they found a beautiful little girl, whom they deemed mute, as she would not speak a word. Time pa.s.sed, and the child, whom they had trained as a drudge, grew to be a beautiful maiden, and she won the affection of a pa.s.sing viking, Ragnar Lodbrog, King of the Danes, to whom she told her tale. The viking sailed away to other lands to fulfil the purposes of his voyage, but when a year had pa.s.sed, during which time he won much glory, he came back and carried away Aslaug as his bride.

"She heard a voice she deemed well known, Long waited through dull hours bygone And round her mighty arms were cast: But when her trembling red lips pa.s.sed From out the heaven of that dear kiss, And eyes met eyes, she saw in his Fresh pride, fresh hope, fresh love, and saw The long sweet days still onward draw, Themselves still going hand in hand, As now they went adown the strand."

The Fostering of Aslaug (William Morris).

In continuation of the story of Sigurd and Brunhild, however, we are told that the young man went to seek adventures in the great world, where he had vowed, as a true hero, to right the wrong and defend the fatherless and oppressed.

The Niblungs

In the course of his wanderings, Sigurd came to the land of the Niblungs, the land of continual mist, where Giuki and Grimhild were king and queen. The latter was specially to be feared, as she was well versed in magic lore, and could weave spells and concoct marvellous potions which had power to steep the drinker in temporary forgetfulness and compel him to yield to her will.

The king and queen had three sons, Gunnar, Hogni, and Guttorm, who were brave young men, and one daughter, Gudrun, the gentlest as well as the most beautiful of maidens. All welcomed Sigurd most warmly, and Giuki invited him to tarry awhile. The invitation was very agreeable after his long wanderings, and Sigurd was glad to stay and share the pleasures and occupations of the Niblungs. He accompanied them to war, and so distinguished himself by his valour, that he won the admiration of Grimhild and she resolved to secure him as her daughter's husband. One day, therefore, she brewed one of her magic potions, and when he had partaken of it at the hand of Gudrun, he utterly forgot Brunhild and his plighted troth, and all his love was diverted unto the queen's daughter.

"But the heart was changed in Sigurd; as though it ne'er had been His love of Brynhild perished as he gazed on the Niblung Queen: Brynhild's beloved body was e'en as a wasted hearth, No more for bale or blessing, for plenty or for dearth."

Although there was not wanting a vague fear that he had forgotten some event in the past which should rule his conduct, Sigurd asked for and obtained Gudrun's hand, and their wedding was celebrated amid the rejoicings of the people, who loved the young hero very dearly. Sigurd gave his bride some of Fafnir's heart to eat, and the moment she had tasted it her nature was changed, and she began to grow cold and silent to all except him. To further cement his alliance with the two eldest Giukings (as the sons of Giuki were called) Sigurd entered the "doom ring" with them, and the three young men cut a sod which was placed upon a s.h.i.+eld, beneath which they stood while they bared and slightly cut their right arms, allowing their blood to mingle in the fresh earth. Then, when they had sworn eternal friends.h.i.+p, the sod was replaced.

But although Sigurd loved his wife and felt a true fraternal affection for her brothers, he could not lose his haunting sense of oppression, and was seldom seen to smile as radiantly as of old. Giuki had now died, and his eldest son, Gunnar, ruled in his stead. As the young king was unwedded, Grimhild, his mother, besought him to take a wife, suggesting that none seemed more worthy to become Queen of the Niblungs than Brunhild, who, it was reported, sat in a golden hall surrounded by flames, whence she had declared she would issue only to marry the warrior who would dare brave the fire for her sake.