Sigurd "Fafnisbana" Sigmundsson
31 x Great-Grandfather of Wallace Joseph Jenkins
From "Children's Stories from the Northern Legends" by Dorothy Belgrave and Hilda Hart, 1916.
Go
here to read the beginning of the story
-
of Sigurd's father Sigmund
The Rhine Gold
Part 2
The child
was strong and beautiful, and while she was tending him, Hiordis
almost forgot her unhappy plight.
Now Alv,
Prince of Denmark, happened to be sailing by the shore of Hunland,
and he noticed that the country looked as if a battle had just taken
place. He came ashore to ask what had happened, and when he saw Queen
Hiordis and her little son he was filled with compassion for them.
"Come
with me to Denmark," he cried when he had heard the Queen's sad
story. "You and your son shall live there in peace."
Hiordis
felt instinctively that Alv would really befriend her, so taking all
the treasure which belonged to the Volsungs, she set sail for Denmark
with little Sigurd.
Prince Alv
treated her so kindly that after a time she consented to become his
wife. Her life now was very happy, for Prince Alv loved Sigurd as if
he had been his own son.
The boy
grew up noble, handsome and fearless, beloved by all. Even gloomy
Regin, the Prince's master-smith, brightened at Sigurd's approach and
taught him many useful things.
Unfortunately
Regin's love for the boy was false, although no one suspected him of
evil. From Sigurd's babyhood, Regin had plotted how to use him for
his own ends, and now that the boy was fast growing into manhood,
Regin decided that the time had come.
"Why
do you go on foot like a peasant?" he asked one day when Sigurd
was in the smithy. "Surely Sigmund's son should have a fine horse."
Sigurd
flushed indignantly.
"Father
Alv would give me one if I asked him," he cried; and although
he said nothing more to Regin, when an opportunity arose, the boy
asked his stepfather if he might have a horse of his own.
"Certainly,"
said Prince Alv. "Choose the best one from the herd by Busilwater."
Sigurd
hurried away joyfully to Busilwater, a stream fed by a fierce
mountain torrent, but as he looked at the fine horses grazing by the
water, he began to doubt his own judgment to choose the best one.
Suddenly a
one-eyed man in a grey cloak appeared and asked Sigurd what he was doing.
"Trying
to choose a horse," answered Sigurd. "Will you help me?"
"Gladly,"
replied the stranger, and he advised Sigurd to drive the herd into
the water.
The horses
were frightened and swam back to land, all except one, a
noble-looking grey animal, which breasted the stream fearlessly.
"I
will choose that one," said Sigurd, and turned to thank the
stranger for helping him, but the old man had vanished.
Sigurd
called his horse Grani, and when he told Prince Alv about the
stranger, his stepfather cried -
"Truly
you have chosen well, for it was Odin himself who guided you."
Sigurd
showed Grani to Regin with great pride, but the smith now asked what
had become of the Volsung's treasure.
"My
mother is guarding it for me," answered the boy.
"Why
is it not yours already?" said Regin.
"What
should I do with it now?" cried Sigurd carelessly.
"It is
only gold."
A cunning
gleam shone in Regin's eye.
"I
know a treasure full of magic," he said mysteriously. "It
contains a suit of golden mail and a helmet which makes the wearer of
it invisible. Alas!" he sighed, "no one but a great hero
may possess it."
"Why,
where is it to be found?" asked Sigurd eagerly.
"But a
few leagues away, on Gnita Hearth, where a terrible dragon guards it
day and night.
"Tell
me about it, good Regin," said the boy.
"It is
a long story," answered Regin. "Let us sit under this oak
tree and I will tell you all I know."
And while
Sigurd sat at his feet listening with flushed cheeks and sparkling
eyes, Regin related the story of the Rhine gold.
"My
father Hreidmar had three sons," he began. "Fafnir, the
eldest, was strong and powerful, and he loved gold more than anything
else. Otter, the second son, was called by that name because he used
to change himself into an otter to catch fish for my father. I was
the third son, weak and misshapen and unable to defend myself against
my brothers.
"One
day while Otter, tired of fishing, lay asleep on a rock, the gods
Odin and Loki came by. Mischievous Loki threw a stone at Otter and
killed him. He then flayed off Otter's furry skin and flinging it
over his shoulder continued on his way with Odin. Before they had
gone very far, my father Hreidmar met them, and recognizing Otter's
skin, he demanded enough gold to cover the fur in payment for his
son's death. Odin and Loki had no gold, but in order to pacify
Hreidmar, Loki promised to find Andvari's treasure.
"Andvari
was a dwarf who long ago had stolen some gold from the river Rhine,
where it had been watched over by some beautiful maidens. In case
these maidens sent anyone to recover their treasure, Andvari hid it
under a waterfall, and usually took the form of a pike while he was
guarding it.
"Cunning
Loki borrowed a net from the sea-goddess Ran, and casting it into
the water, he drew out the pike, Andvari. Shrieking and struggling,
Andvari was made to give up all his treasure, even the gold ring that
he wore round his fin. But as Loki was hurrying away with his
plunder, Andvari uttered a solemn curse that until the gold was
restored to the Rhine maidens it should bring woe upon every one, and
each holder of the ring should die a violent death.
"Loki
paid no heed to the curse, but returned to Hreidmar with the
treasure. He gave Odin the ring, but as Hreidmar complained that the
Rhine gold did not entirely cover Otter's skin, Odin threw the ring
also upon the fur. He then departed with Loki, who, remembering
Andvari's curse, rejoiced in the thought that it would fall upon Hreidmar.
"This
happened soon enough, for my brother Fafnir coveted the treasure and
killed my father Hreidmar. He drove me away and changed himself into
a horrible Dragon, so that he might guard the treasure which he has
hidden on Gnita Heath.
"And
this treasure," Regin concluded with a deep sigh, "should
rightly be mine, for Fafnir deserved death as a punishment for
slaying my father."
"Why
do you not fight the Dragon?" asked Sigurd.
"I am
too weak," cried Regin.
Then Sigurd
cried gaily: "Forge me a sword and I will help you to win back
the treasure."
And Regin,
secretly gloating over the success of his scheme, set to work to
forge a powerful sword.
Fafnir's Bane
For many
days Regin worked in his smithy while Sigurd waited impatiently, but
at last the sword which was to kill the Dragon was finished.
"Now!"
cried Regin, placing the heavy weapon in Sigurd's hands. "Now
you shall slay Fafnir."
Sigurd
struck a blow at the anvil in the smithy, and the sword was
shattered! Regin frowned.
"I
will forge you another," he promised sullenly.
Again he
worked, but when Sigurd came to test the strength of this new sword,
it split in half.
"Is
this the best you can do?" cried the lad scornfully.
"Perhaps you are a traitor and you wish Fafnir to slay me."
Heedless of
Regin's angry looks he left the smithy and went to his mother's room.
Queen
Hiordis looked up from her embroidery with a loving smile at her
son's entrance.
"Mother,"
Sigurd cried eagerly, "is it true that my father gave you the
pieces of his broken sword?"
"Yes,
my son," Hiordis answered gently, but her heart sank, for she
knew the time had come when Sigurd was going to leave her.
"Give
me the pieces, mother," he pleaded. "I must have Gram now;
no other sword will do."
Queen
Hiordis went to her treasure-chest and took from it the broken sword,
which shone as brightly as on the day when Odin had thrust it into
the Branstock. Sigurd seized the fragments and hurried back to Regin.
"Now,"
he cried triumphantly, "you shall forge Gram afresh for me."
Regin set
to work again and it was many days before the sword was completed.
"If
this one be not good," he said, as he gave it to Sigurd, "I
have lost my power of forging."
Sigurd
struck a mighty blow at the anvil, and this time the anvil itself,
not the sword, was cleft in half.
"Now,
will you come to slay Fafnir?" cried Regin, but Sigurd answered
- "Not until I have killed King Lynge to avenge my father's death."
With only a
small force of men, Sigurd sailed away to Hunland where the Volsungs
had dwelt. He killed King Lynge and many of his followers with the
sword Gram, then he returned in triumph to Denmark.
Remembering
his promise, however, he immediately sought Regin in the smithy.
"To-morrow
we two will ride to Gnita Heath," he said, and Regin nodded his
head mysteriously.
The
following day they set off for Gnita Heath: Sigurd upon Grani, his
swift grey horse, and Regin rode at his side.
They passed
through pleasant meadows and shady woods until towards nightfall they
came to a desolate heath with a mountain stream running through it.
"Look,"
cried Sigurd eagerly, "surely that shiny track must be the
trail of the monster when he crawls to drink from the stream. Shall
we follow it to the Dragon's lair?"
"Not
yet," advised Regin. "You must stay near the stream and dig
a deep pit."
"Why?"
asked Sigurd in surprise.
"So
that you can sit within it and stab the Dragon from beneath as he
crawls over the pit," explained Regin.
"Let
us begin, then," said Sigurd, but Regin muttered -
"I am
too weak to help you, and it is better that Fafnir should not see me.
It would only enrage him more."
So without
waiting for Sigurd's reply, the smith rode away to some rocks in the distance.
Sigurd led
Grani to a sheltered spot and then returned to cross the heath.
Suddenly an old man in a grey cloak appeared in his path and asked
him where he was going.
"To
slay Fafnir the Dragon," answered Sigurd boldly.
"How
will you kill such a powerful monster?" asked the old man doubtfully.
"I
shall dig a deep pit," answered Sigurd, "and hide myself in
it, then when Fafnir crawls above me on his way to the stream, I
shall stab him with my sword Gram."
The old man
shook his head.
"You
must dig many pits," he said gravely, "or else the Dragon's
blood would all flow into the one where you were standing and drown
you immediately. See that the blood covers you, however, for then no
sword thrust will be able to pierce you."
The
stranger vanished, and Sigurd stood still, lost in thought.
"Surely
that was Odin," he cried, remembering the old man who had
helped him at Busilwater. "I will do as he says, for he has
advised me well in the choice of Grani."
Sigurd
spent many hours digging deep pits, and it was sunrise before he had
finished his work. He knew that Fafnir would soon come out of his den
for his morning drink from the stream, so Sigurd seated himself in
the deepest pit and waited patiently.
Presently
the earth shook and with terrible growls and hisses the great Dragon
crept slowly over the heath, spitting fire and venom all around him.
And as he
passed over the deepest pit, Sigurd thrust his sword into the
monster's left shoulder. He drew it out quickly, and Fafnir's blood
gushed forth in such great quantities that it fell into all the pits
as the stranger had foretold.
Fafnir was
mortally wounded, and he rolled over in his agony, while Sigurd
leaped from the pit and stood watching him from a safe distance.
"Who
has slain me?" moaned the dying Dragon.
"Sigurd,
son of Sigmund the Volsung," answered Sigurd proudly.
Then Fafnir
cried in a feeble voice: "You have come to steal my gold, but
take warning! Leave my treasure and ride away lest the curse should
fall upon you."
But Sigurd
answered that he had come for the gold and he would not depart
without it, so Fafnir died, warning him with his last breath not to
steal the Rhine gold.
Then Regin
came from his hiding-place in the rocks, crying -
"Hail,
Sigurd! Henceforward you shall be known as Fafnir's Bane, the Dragon Slayer."
Side by
side they stood looking at the lifeless mass upon the earth.
"Tell
me," said Sigurd, "is it true that now, since Fafnir's
blood covered me as he fell, no sword-thrust can ever pierce me?"
"Quite
true," answered Regin gloomily, but Sigurd did not discover
until afterwards that the Dragon's blood had not completely covered
him. There was one small place between his shoulders which had
remained dry, for as withered leaf had stuck there.
Regin
frowned, for he had intended to kill Sigurd of course, and now he did
not know how to do it.
"I
must think for a while," he said to himself, and added aloud to
Sigurd -
"Now
that you have killed my brother, do me one more favour. Take out his
heart and roast it for me. I must sleep awhile, for I have been
watching all the night and am very weary.
Sigurd
gathered some sticks and kindled a fire; then he cut out Fafnir's
heart and set it upon the flames to roast. As he watched over it,
some of the fat hissed out and burned his finger. Sigurd put it to
his lips to cool the burn, and immediately a strange thing happened.
He heard voices all around him, yet there was no one to be seen upon
the heath but the sleeping Regin.
"Foolish
Sigurd," asked a tiny voice, "why do you roast Fafnir's
heart for Regin? Eat it yourself and become the wisest of men."
"Then
a second voice cried warningly: "Pay heed to crafty Regin. He
means to slay you."
Now Sigurd
understood. Through some strange magic the meaning of the birds'
songs had become plain to him, and as he stood transfixed with
amazement, a tiny woodpecker perched upon his shoulder and whispered -
"Kill
Regin and take the treasure; then ride to the flaming mountain,
Hindfell, where Brynhild sleeps."
At that
moment Regin awoke and came towards Sigurd.
"Kill
him, kill him," twittered the birds, so Sigurd raised his sword
Gram and cut off Regin's head.
Then while
he ate Fafnir's heart, the birds sang to him of Brynhild, the
beautiful maiden whom none but a fearless hero could awaken.
Sigurd then
rode over the heath until he found Fafnir's den, where the Rhine gold
lay. He placed Andvari's ring upon his arm, and gathering up the
gleaming treasure, he leaped upon Grani's back.
"Now,
my Grani, lead me to Brynhild," he whispered in the grey steed's
ear, and Grani galloped away as swiftly as the wind blows.
Sigurd and Brynhild
Brynhild
Sigurd rode
on and on until he came to a country called Frankenland, where a
bleak mountain rose up with flames issuing from its summit.
"Hindfell
at last," he cried. "On, my Grani, through the fire!"
The grey
horse galloped on and never stopped until he had carried Sigurd up
the mountain side, through the flames, to a clear place within the
fiery circle.
Half-blinded
by the smoke, Sigurd dismounted, and when he could see clearly again
he found himself by a rocky couch upon which lay a beautiful maiden,
fast asleep. She was dressed in shining armour, but her head was
uncovered, leaving her golden hair in profusion about her face and shoulders.
Awed by her
beauty, Sigurd bent over her, scarcely daring to breathe, and she
slowly opened her blue eyes.
"Who
has ridden through the flames to wake me?" she cried softly, and
Sigurd answered -
"It is
I, Sigurd the Volsung. Why do you lie in this fiery circle?"
"First
loosen my armour with your sword," she said, and when Sigurd
touched her coat of mail with the edge of his sword, Gram, the armour
fell from her and she sat up in her long, white robes.
"I am
Brynhild, daughter of Odin¹," she cried. "Once I was a
Valkyrja and bore the souls of dead heroes to Valhalla, Odin's
palace. Now, alas, I am mortal and must live and suffer like mortals
in the future."
Then while
Sigurd sat by her side, looking at her beautiful face and listening
to her sad sweet voice, she told him how Odin had punished her for an
act of disobedience by placing her within a circle of fire.
"My
father willed that I would sleep within the flames until a mortal
should ride through the fire to claim me as his bride," she
continued, "but I have vowed that I will wed no man unless he be fearless."
Then Sigurd
cried joyously -
"I am
fearless, Brynhild, for I have just slain the Dragon Fafnir."
They looked
at each other steadfastly, then Brynhild held out her hand. Sigurd
solemnly placed Andvari's ring upon her arm and cried -
"I
will wed no one but you, Brynhild," and she answered -
"I
choose you, Sigurd the Fearless, for my husband."
Then they
sat for a long time on the rocky couch, talking of the love which had
entered their hearts so swiftly, but so deeply, and Sigurd told his
betrothed all the strange adventures which had befallen him.
"Alas,
I must not stay with you now!" he said sadly. "Since I
tasted Fafnir's heart, many things have been revealed to me, and I
know that it is the will of the gods that I shall journey to the land
of the Rhine before we are wedded."
"Go,
dear Sigurd," answered Brynhild bravely, "but come back to
me soon. I will wait for you here in the flames."
They clung
to each other sorrowfully, then Brynhild lay down upon her rocky
couch while Sigurd mounted Grani and leaped through the fiery circle.
The journey
to Rhineland was a long one, and Sigurd performed many heroic deeds
upon the way. At last he reached his destination, and was welcomed
royally by Gunnar, King of the Niblungs, who had already heard many
stories of Sigurd's fame.
Now the
King's mother, Queen Grimhild, was a wicked sorceress. She knew, by
her magic art, that Sigurd was betrothed to Brynhild, but she was
determined to separate the lovers.
"Sigurd
shall marry my daughter Gudrun," she vowed to herself,
"then the treasure he carries with him shall remain in Rhineland
for ever. As for Brynhild, she shall become my son King Gunnar's
wife, and Sigurd shall help him to woo her."
Chuckling
maliciously at her wicked plot Grimhild hurried away to prepare a
magic potion. The Niblungs gave feast to celebrate Sigurd's arrival,
and the hero was placed next to Grimhild's daughter, Gudrun. He could
not fail to admire her beauty and her gentle manners, but his heart
was far away upon Hindfell with Brynhild.
When the
feasting was at its height, Queen Grimhild handed Sigurd a golden
goblet, from which he unsuspectingly took a draught.
Alas for
poor Brynhild! As soon as Sigurd had drunk the fatal potion his
memory of the past was blotted out, and before the feast was over,
the charm of gentle Gudrun had made a deep impression upon him.
Sigurd
remained in the land of the Rhine, and soon Queen Grimhild's wish was
granted. He married Gudrun and lived very happily with her, and the
treasure was now in the hand of the Niblungs.
Meanwhile
poor Brynhild waited for her lover until she began to despair of his
return, and she wept bitterly upon far-away Hindfell.
Now that
Gudrun was married, Queen Grimhild determined to arrange King
Gunnar's wedding, and she told him of the beautiful Valkyrja who lay
within the fiery circle. Gunnar was very anxious to win Brynhild's
hand, and Queen Grimhild begged Sigurd to accompany her son upon his
quest. The names Brynhild and Hindfell aroused no memories in
Sigurd's mind, it was as if he heard the words for the first time.
"Certainly
I will go with Gunnar," he cried, and before they left
Rhineland, Grimhild showed them how to change places with each other.
She knew that Gunnar would not be able to ride through the flames, so
she meant Sigurd to take Gunnar's form and win Brynhild for him.
Everything happened exactly as Grimhild had foreseen. Gunnar's horse
refused to carry him through the fire, and although Sigurd lent him
Grani, the grey horse would bear no one upon his back except his own master.
Then Sigurd
said: "We must change our forms in the way your mother taught
us," and taking the shape of Gunnar he plunged through the
flames as he had done long ago.
Meanwhile
the real Gunnar returned to his home to await events.
When
Brynhild heard the sound of Grani's hoofs, her heart beat joyfully.
Surely Sigurd had returned to her, but when she cried, "Who
comes here?" a voice answered -
"Gunnar,
King of the Niblungs. I claim you as my bride, for I am the man who
knows no fear."
Brynhild
was obliged to yield herself to this new suitor according to her vow,
but her heart still belonged to Sigurd. However, she sorrowfully
placed Andvari's ring upon the false Gunnar's arm, and allowed him to
take her to Rhineland. There she was wedded to the real Gunnar
without knowing the deception which had been practised on her, but at
the sight of Sigurd happily married to Gudrun her heart nearly broke.
Gudrun
loved her brother's wife and tried to treat her as a sister, but poor
Brynhild wandered unhappily about the palace, nursing her grief and
refusing to be comforted.
One day she
noticed Andvari's ring upon Sigurd's arm.
"Why
does your husband wear the ring I gave Gunnar when he rode through
the fire?" she asked Gudrun.
Without a
thought of evil, Gudrun answered lightly - "It was not Gunnar
who rode through the fire, he could not pass the flames. My Sigurd
took Gunnar's form and won you for him."
Then
Brynhild's grief turned to fierce anger and she vowed vengeance upon
those who had so cruelly deceived her. But Andvari's curse was not to
fall upon Sigurd.
King Gunnar
had a younger brother called Guttorm, who longed to possess Sigurd's
sword, and together with Hagen, a wicked Hun, Guttorm plotted to kill Sigurd.
As the
Dragon's blood had left the hero invulnerable, however, they did not
know how to accomplish their evil task, but one day when they were
talking in Gudrun's rose-garden, Brynhild overheard some of their conversation.
"Sigurd
was covered with the dragon's blood from head to foot," Hagen
whispered; and Brynhild cried out bitterly, "It is not so,"
and she told the conspirators the story of the withered leaf, that
Sigurd had confided to her long ago upon Hindfell. Afterwards she
repented of her rash saying, fearing that Guttorm and Hagen meant
evil towards Sigurd, so the next morning she rose early and sought
Sigurd in Gudrun's rose-garden. She meant to warn him against Guttorm
and Hagen, but forgot her resolve entirely, for Sigurd greeted her
with a new tone in her voice. "Brynhild," he cried, "it
seems as if I have been bewitched until this moment. Surely you and
I plighted our troth upon Hindfell - some magic mst have been at work
to separate us." Brynhild wept for joy, but Sigurd continued
sadly, "What has happened cannot be undone. In my ignorance I
made Gudrun my wife, and I must abide by the marriage; but forgive
me, my dear sister."
Then he
kissed her gently upon the forehead and left her weeping in the
rose-garden, while he set out upon a hunting expedition with Guttorm
and Hagen.
At noonday
the sun hid behind a dark cloud and the birds ceased their singing,
for the hunters returned in sorrowful procession - Sigurd, the last
of the Volsungs, was dead, stabbed in the one vital spot between his
shoulders by treacherous Hagen.
Gudrun
fainted with grief at the sight of the dead hero, but Brynhild fell
to the ground never to rise again, for her heart was broken. They
laid her by the side of Sigurd, and in his hand they placed his
beloved sword Gram, and those who gazed at the dead lovers cried
softly -
"What
matters if they suffered in their lives? Their souls now dwell
together with Father Odin."
1. LEGEND ASIDE, SIGURD'S WIFE BRYNHILD, BY WHOM HE WAS THE FATHER OF ASLAUG "KRAKE" SIGURDSDATTER, WAS IN REALITY MOST LIKELY BRYNHILD BUDLASDATTER, DAUGHTER OF BUDLI LEIFNISSON.