The Story of Sigurd

THE STORY OF SIGURD

(This is a very old story: the Danes who used to fight with the English

in King Alfred’s time knew this story. They have carved on the rocks

pictures of some of the things that happen in the tale, and those

carvings may still be seen. Because it is so old and so beautiful the

story is told here again, but it has a sad ending—indeed it is all sad,

and all about fighting and killing, as might be expected from the

Danes.)

Once upon a time there was a King in the North who had won many wars,

but now he was old. Yet he took a new wife, and then another Prince,

who wanted to have married her, came up against him with a great army.

The old King went out and fought bravely, but at last his sword broke,

and he was wounded and his men fled. But in the night, when the battle

was over, his young wife came out and searched for him among the slain,

and at last she found him, and asked whether he might be healed. But he

said ‘No,’ his luck was gone, his sword was broken, and he must die.

And he told her that she would have a son, and that son would be a

great warrior, and would avenge him on the other King, his enemy. And

he bade her keep the broken pieces of the sword, to make a new sword

for his son, and that blade should be called Gram.

Then he died. And his wife called her maid to her and said, ‘Let us

change clothes, and you shall be called by my name, and I by yours,

lest the enemy finds us.’

So this was done, and they hid in a wood, but there some strangers met

them and carried them off in a ship to Denmark. And when they were

brought before the King, he thought the maid looked like a Queen, and

the Queen like a maid. So he asked the Queen, ‘How do you know in the

dark of night whether the hours are wearing to the morning?’

And she said:

‘I know because, when I was younger, I used to have to rise and light

the fires, and still I waken at the same time.’

‘A strange Queen to light the fires,’ thought the King.

Then he asked the Queen, who was dressed like a maid, ‘How do you know

in the dark of night whether the hours are wearing near the dawn?’

‘My father gave me a gold ring,’ said she, ‘and always, ere the

dawning, it grows cold on my finger.’

‘A rich house where the maids wore gold,’ said the King. ‘Truly you are

no maid, but a King’s daughter.’

So he treated her royally, and as time went on she had a son called

Sigurd, a beautiful boy and very strong. He had a tutor to be with him,

and once the tutor bade him go to the King and ask for a horse.

‘Choose a horse for yourself,’ said the King; and Sigurd went to the

wood, and there he met an old man with a white beard, and said, ‘Come!

help me in horse-choosing.’

Then the old man said, ‘Drive all the horses into the river, and choose

the one that swims across.’

So Sigurd drove them, and only one swam across. Sigurd chose him: his

name was Grani, and he came of Sleipnir’s breed, and was the best horse

in the world. For Sleipnir was the horse of Odin, the God of the North,

and was as swift as the wind.

But a day or two later his tutor said to Sigurd, ‘There is a great

treasure of gold hidden not far from here, and it would become you to

win it.’

But Sigurd answered, ‘I have heard stories of that treasure, and I know

that the dragon Fafnir guards it, and he is so huge and wicked that no

man dares to go near him.’

‘He is no bigger than other dragons,’ said the tutor, ‘and if you were

as brave as your father you would not fear him.’

‘I am no coward,’ says Sigurd; ‘why do you want me to fight with this

dragon?’

Then his tutor, whose name was Regin, told him that all this great

hoard of red gold had once belonged to his own father. And his father

had three sons—the first was Fafnir, the Dragon; the next was Otter,

who could put on the shape of an otter when he liked; and the next was

himself, Regin, and he was a great smith and maker of swords.

Now there was at that time a dwarf called Andvari, who lived in a pool

beneath a waterfall, and there he had hidden a great hoard of gold. And

one day Otter had been fishing there, and had killed a salmon and eaten

it, and was sleeping, like an otter, on a stone. Then someone came by,

and threw a stone at the otter and killed it, and flayed off the skin,

and took it to the house of Otter’s father. Then he knew his son was

dead, and to punish the person who had killed him he said he must have

the Otter’s skin filled with gold, and covered all over with red gold,

or it should go worse with him. Then the person who had killed Otter

went down and caught the Dwarf who owned all the treasure and took it

from him.

Only one ring was left, which the Dwarf wore, and even that was taken

from him.

Then the poor Dwarf was very angry, and he prayed that the gold might

never bring any but bad luck to all the men who might own it, for ever.

Then the otter skin was filled with gold and covered with gold, all but

one hair, and that was covered with the poor Dwarf’s last ring.

But it brought good luck to nobody. First Fafnir, the Dragon, killed

his own father, and then he went and wallowed on the gold, and would

let his brother have none, and no man dared go near it.

When Sigurd heard the story he said to Regin:

‘Make me a good sword that I may kill this Dragon.’

So Regin made a sword, and Sigurd tried it with a blow on a lump of

iron, and the sword broke.

Another sword he made, and Sigurd broke that too.

Then Sigurd went to his mother, and asked for the broken pieces of his

father’s blade, and gave them to Regin. And he hammered and wrought

them into a new sword, so sharp that fire seemed to burn along its

edges.

Sigurd tried this blade on the lump of iron, and it did not break, but

split the iron in two. Then he threw a lock of wool into the river, and

when it floated down against the sword it was cut into two pieces. So

Sigurd said that sword would do. But before he went against the Dragon

he led an army to fight the men who had killed his father, and he slew

their King, and took all his wealth, and went home.

When he had been at home a few days, he rode out with Regin one morning

to the heath where the Dragon used to lie. Then he saw the track which

the Dragon made when he went to a cliff to drink, and the track was as

if a great river had rolled along and left a deep valley.

Then Sigurd went down into that deep place, and dug many pits in it,

and in one of the pits he lay hidden with his sword drawn. There he

waited, and presently the earth began to shake with the weight of the

Dragon as he crawled to the water. And a cloud of venom flew before him

as he snorted and roared, so that it would have been death to stand

before him.

But Sigurd waited till half of him had crawled over the pit, and then

he thrust the sword Gram right into his very heart.

Then the Dragon lashed with his tail till stones broke and trees

crashed about him.

Then he spoke, as he died, and said:

‘Whoever thou art that hast slain me this gold shall be thy ruin, and

the ruin of all who own it.’

Sigurd said:

‘I would touch none of it if by losing it I should never die. But all

men die, and no brave man lets death frighten him from his desire. Die

thou, Fafnir,’ and then Fafnir died.

And after that Sigurd was called Fafnir’s Bane, and Dragonslayer.

Then Sigurd rode back, and met Regin, and Regin asked him to roast

Fafnir’s heart and let him taste of it.

So Sigurd put the heart of Fafnir on a stake, and roasted it. But it

chanced that he touched it with his finger, and it burned him. Then he

put his finger in his mouth, and so tasted the heart of Fafnir.

Then immediately he understood the language of birds, and he heard the

Woodpeckers say:

‘There is Sigurd roasting Fafnir’s heart for another, when he should

taste of it himself and learn all wisdom.’

The next bird said:

‘There lies Regin, ready to betray Sigurd, who trusts him.’

The third bird said:

‘Let him cut off Regin’s head, and keep all the gold to himself.’

The fourth bird said:

‘That let him do, and then ride over Hindfell, to the place where

Brynhild sleeps.’

When Sigurd heard all this, and how Regin was plotting to betray him,

he cut off Regin’s head with one blow of the sword Gram.

Then all the birds broke out singing:

‘We know a fair maid,

A fair maiden sleeping;

Sigurd, be not afraid,

Sigurd, win thou the maidv Fortune is keeping.

‘High over Hindfell

Red fire is flaming,

There doth the maiden dwell

She that should love thee well,

Meet for thy taming.

‘There must she sleep till thou

Comest for her waking

Rise up and ride, for now

Sure she will swear the vow

Fearless of breaking.’

Then Sigurd remembered how the story went that somewhere, far away,

there was a beautiful lady enchanted. She was under a spell, so that

she must always sleep in a castle surrounded by flaming fire; there she

must sleep for ever till there came a knight who would ride through the

fire and waken her. There he determined to go, but first he rode right

down the horrible trail of Fafnir. And Fafnir had lived in a cave with

iron doors, a cave dug deep down in the earth, and full of gold

bracelets, and crowns, and rings; and there, too, Sigurd found the Helm

of Dread, a golden helmet, and whoever wears it is invisible. All these

he piled on the back of the good horse Grani, and then he rode south to

Hindfell.

Now it was night, and on the crest of the hill Sigurd saw a red fire

blazing up into the sky, and within the flame a castle, and a banner on

the topmost tower. Then he set the horse Grani at the fire, and he

leaped through it lightly, as if it had been through the heather. So

Sigurd went within the castle door, and there he saw someone sleeping,

clad all in armour. Then he took the helmet off the head of the

sleeper, and behold, she was a most beautiful lady. And she wakened and

said, ‘Ah! is it Sigurd, Sigmund’s son, who has broken the curse, and

comes here to waken me at last?’

This curse came upon her when the thorn of the tree of sleep ran into

her hand long ago as a punishment because she had displeased Odin the

God. Long ago, too, she had vowed never to marry a man who knew fear,

and dared not ride through the fence of flaming fire. For she was a

warrior maid herself, and went armed into the battle like a man. But

now she and Sigurd loved each other, and promised to be true to each

other, and he gave her a ring, and it was the last ring taken from the

dwarf Andvari. Then Sigurd rode away, and he came to the house of a

King who had a fair daughter. Her name was Gudrun, and her mother was a

witch. Now Gudrun fell in love with Sigurd, but he was always talking

of Brynhild, how beautiful she was and how dear. So one day Gudrun’s

witch mother put poppy and forgetful drugs in a magical cup, and bade

Sigurd drink to her health, and he drank, and instantly he forgot poor

Brynhild and he loved Gudrun, and they were married with great

rejoicings.

Now the witch, the mother of Gudrun, wanted her son Gunnar to marry

Brynhild, and she bade him ride out with Sigurd and go and woo her. So

forth they rode to her father’s house, for Brynhild had quite gone out

of Sigurd’s mind by reason of the witch’s wine, but she remembered him

and loved him still. Then Brynhild’s father told Gunnar that she would

marry none but him who could ride the flame in front of her enchanted

tower, and thither they rode, and Gunnar set his horse at the flame,

but he would not face it. Then Gunnar tried Sigurd’s horse Grani, but

he would not move with Gunnar on his back. Then Gunnar remembered

witchcraft that his mother had taught him, and by his magic he made

Sigurd look exactly like himself, and he looked exactly like Gunnar.

Then Sigurd, in the shape of Gunnar and in his mail, mounted on Grani,

and Grani leaped the fence of fire, and Sigurd went in and found

Brynhild, but he did not remember her yet, because of the forgetful

medicine in the cup of the witch’s wine.

Now Brynhild had no help but to promise she would be his wife, the wife

of Gunnar as she supposed, for Sigurd wore Gunnar’s shape, and she had

sworn to wed whoever should ride the flames. And he gave her a ring,

and she gave him back the ring he had given her before in his own shape

as Sigurd, and it was the last ring of that poor dwarf Andvari. Then he

rode out again, and he and Gunnar changed shapes, and each was himself

again, and they went home to the witch Queen’s, and Sigurd gave the

dwarf’s ring to his wife, Gudrun. And Brynhild went to her father, and

said that a King had come called Gunnar, and had ridden the fire, and

she must marry him. ‘Yet I thought,’ she said, ‘that no man could have

done this deed but Sigurd, Fafnir’s bane, who was my true love. But he

has forgotten me, and my promise I must keep.’

So Gunnar and Brynhild were married, though it was not Gunnar but

Sigurd in Gunnar’s shape, that had ridden the fire.

And when the wedding was over and all the feast, then the magic of the

witch’s wine went out of Sigurd’s brain, and he remembered all. He

remembered how he had freed Brynhild from the spell, and how she was

his own true love, and how he had forgotten and had married another

woman, and won Brynhild to be the wife of another man.

But he was brave, and he spoke not a word of it to the others to make

them unhappy. Still he could not keep away the curse which was to come

on every one who owned the treasure of the dwarf Andvari, and his fatal

golden ring.

And the curse soon came upon all of them. For one day, when Brynhild

and Gudrun were bathing, Brynhild waded farthest out into the river,

and said she did that to show she was Gudrun’s superior. For her

husband, she said, had ridden through the flame when no other man dared

face it.

Then Gudrun was very angry, and said that it was Sigurd, not Gunnar,

who had ridden the flame, and had received from Brynhild that fatal

ring, the ring of the dwarf Andvari.

Then Brynhild saw the ring which Sigurd had given to Gudrun, and she

knew it and knew all, and she turned as pale as a dead woman, and went

home. All that evening she never spoke. Next day she told Gunnar, her

husband, that he was a coward and a liar, for he had never ridden the

flame, but had sent Sigurd to do it for him, and pretended that he had

done it himself. And she said he would never see her glad in his hall,

never drinking wine, never playing chess, never embroidering with the

golden thread, never speaking words of kindness. Then she rent all her

needlework asunder and wept aloud, so that everyone in the house heard

her. For her heart was broken, and her pride was broken in the same

hour. She had lost her true love, Sigurd, the slayer of Fafnir, and she

was married to a man who was a liar.

Then Sigurd came and tried to comfort her, but she would not listen,

and said she wished the sword stood fast in his heart.

‘Not long to wait,’ he said, ‘till the bitter sword stands fast in my

heart, and thou will not live long when I am dead. But, dear Brynhild,

live and be comforted, and love Gunnar thy husband, and I will give

thee all the gold, the treasure of the dragon Fafnir.’

Brynhild said:

‘It is too late.’

Then Sigurd was so grieved and his heart so swelled in his breast that

it burst the steel rings of his shirt of mail.

Sigurd went out and Brynhild determined to slay him. She mixed

serpent’s venom and wolf’s flesh, and gave them in one dish to her

husband’s younger brother, and when he had tasted them he was mad, and

he went into Sigurd’s chamber while he slept and pinned him to the bed

with a sword. But Sigurd woke, and caught the sword Gram into his hand,

and threw it at the man as he fled, and the sword cut him in twain.

Thus died Sigurd, Fafnir’s bane, whom no ten men could have slain in

fair fight. Then Gudrun wakened and saw him dead, and she moaned aloud,

and Brynhild heard her and laughed; but the kind horse Grani lay down

and died of very grief. And then Brynhild fell a-weeping till her heart

broke. So they attired Sigurd in all his golden armour, and built a

great pile of wood on board his ship, and at night laid on it the dead

Sigurd and the dead Brynhild, and the good horse, Grani, and set fire

to it, and launched the ship. And the wind bore it blazing out to sea,

flaming into the dark. So there were Sigurd and Brynhild burned

together, and the curse of the dwarf Andvari was fulfilled.[33]

[33] The Volsunga Saga.

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