The Story of the Volsungs

CHAPTER XXX. Of the Slaying of Sigurd Fafnir’s-bane.

There­after Bryn­hild went out, and sat un­der her bow­er-​wall, and had many words of wail­ing to say, and still she cried that all things were loath­some to her, both land and lord­ship alike, so she might not have Sig­urd.

But there­with came Gun­nar to her yet again, and Bryn­hild spake, “Thou shalt lose both realm and wealth, and thy life and me, for I shall fare home to my kin, and abide there in sor­row, un­less thou slayest Sig­urd and his son; nev­er nour­ish thou a wolfcub.”

Gun­nar grew sick at heart there­at, and might no­wise see what fear­ful thing lay be­neath it all; he was bound to Sig­urd by oath, and this way and that way swung the heart with­in him; but at the last he bethought him of the mea­sure­less shame if his wife went from him, and he said with­in him­self, “Bryn­hild is bet­ter to me than all things else, and the fairest wom­an of all wom­en, and I will lay down my life rather than lose the love of her.” And here­with he called to him his broth­er and spake, –

“Trou­ble is heavy on me,” and he tells him that he must needs slay Sig­urd, for that he has failed him where in he trust­ed him; “so let us be lords of the gold and the realm with­al.”

Hog­ni an­swers, “Ill it be­hoves us to break our oaths with wrack and wrong, and with­al great aid we have in him; no kings shall be as great as we, if so be the King of the Hun-​folk may live; such an­oth­er broth­er-​in-​law nev­er may we get again; be­think thee how good it is to have such a broth­er-​in-​law, and such sons to our sis­ter! But well I see how things stand, for this has Bryn­hild stirred thee up to, and sure­ly shall her coun­sel drag us in­to huge shame and scathe.”

Gun­nar says, “Yet shall it be brought about: and, lo, a rede there­to; — let us egg on our broth­er Gut­torm to the deed; he is young, and of lit­tle knowl­edge, and is clean out of all the oaths more­over.”

“Ah, set about in ill wise,” says Hog­ni, “and though in­deed it may well be com­passed, a due re­ward shall we gain for the be­wray­al of such a man as is Sig­urd.”

Gun­nar says, “Sig­urd shall die, or I shall die.”

And there­with he bids Bryn­hild arise and be glad at heart: so she arose, and still ev­er she said that Gun­nar should come no more in­to her bed till the deed was done.

So the broth­ers fall to talk, and Gun­nar says that it is a deed well wor­thy of death, that tak­ing of Bryn­hild’s maid­en­head; “So come now, let us prick on Gut­torm to do the deed.”

There­with they call him to them, and of­fer him gold and great do­min­ion, as they well have might to do. Yea, and they took a cer­tain worm and some­what of wolf’s flesh and let seethe them to­geth­er, and gave him to eat of the same, even as the singer sings –

“Fish of the wild-​wood, Worm smooth crawl­ing, With wolf-​meat min­gled, They minced for Gut­torm; Then in the beaker, In the wine his mouth knew, They set it, still do­ing More deeds of wiz­ards.

Where­fore with the eat­ing of this meat he grew so wild and ea­ger, and with all things about him, and with the heavy words of Grimhild, that he gave his word to do the deed; and mighty hon­our they promised him in re­ward there­of.

But of these evil wiles naught at all knew Sig­urd, for he might not deal with his shapen fate, nor the mea­sure of his life-​days, nei­ther deemed he that he was wor­thy such things at their hands.

So Gut­torm went in to Sig­urd the next morn­ing as he lay up­on his bed, yet durst he not do aught against him, but shrank back out again; yea, and even so he fared a sec­ond time, for so bright and ea­ger were the eyes of Sig­urd that few durst look up­on him. But the third time he went in, and there lay Sig­urd asleep; then Gut­torm drew his sword and thrust Sig­urd through in such wise that the sword point smote in­to the bed be­neath him; then Sig­urd awoke with that wound, and Gut­torm gat him un­to the door; but there­with Sig­urd caught up the sword Gram, and cast it af­ter him, and it smote him on the back, and struck him asun­der in the midst, so that the feet of him fell one way, and the head and hands back in­to the cham­ber.

Now Gu­drun lay asleep on Sig­urd’s bo­som, but she woke up un­to woe that may not be told of, all swim­ming in the blood of him, and in such wise did she be­wail her with weep­ing and words of sor­row, that Sig­urd rose up on the bol­ster, and spake.

“Weep not,” said he, “for thy broth­ers live for thy de­light; but a young son have I, too young to be ware of his foes; and an ill turn have these played against their own for­tune; for nev­er will they get a might­ier broth­er-​in-​law to ride abroad with them; nay, nor a bet­ter son to their sis­ter, than this one, if he may grow to man’s es­tate. Lo, now is that come to pass which was fore­told me long ago, but from mine eyes has it been hid­den, for none may fight against his fate and pre­vail. Be­hold this has Bryn­hild brought to pass, even she who loves me be­fore all men; but this may I swear, that nev­er have I wrought ill to Gun­nar, but rather have ev­er held fast to my oath with him, nor was I ev­er too much a friend to his wife. And now if I had been fore­warned, and had been afoot with my weapons, then should many a man have lost his life or ev­er I had fall­en, and all those brethren should have been slain, and a hard­er work would the slay­ing of me have been than the slay­ing of the might­iest bull or the might­iest boar of the wild-​wood.”

And even there­with­al life left the King; but Gu­drun moaned and drew a weary breath, and Bryn­hild heard it and laughed when she heard her moan­ing.

Then said Gun­nar, “Thou laugh­est not be­cause thy heart-​roots are glad­dened, or else why doth thy vis­age wax so wan? Sure an evil crea­ture thou art; most like thou art nigh to thy death! Lo now, how meet would it be for thee to be­hold thy broth­er Atli slain be­fore thine eyes, and that thou shouldst stand over him dead; where­as we must needs now stand over our broth­er-​in-​law in such a case our broth­er-​in-​law and our broth­er’s bane.”

She an­swered, “None need mock at the mea­sure of slaugh­ter be­ing un­ful­filled; yet heedeth not Atli your wrath or your threats; yea, he shall live longer than ye, and be a might­ier man.”

Hog­ni spake and said, “Now hath come to pass the sooth­say­ing of Bryn­hild; an ill work not to be atoned for.”

And Gu­drun said, “My kins­men have slain my hus­band; but ye, when ye next ride to the war and are come in­to the bat­tle, then shall ye look about and see that Sig­urd is nei­ther on the fight hand nor the left, and ye shall know that he was your good-​hap and your strength; and if he had lived and had sons, then should ye have been strength­ened by his off­spring and his kin.”