Myths of the Norsemen

by Roger Green

  ‘My lord King, a violent madness needs a violent cure; also I must be alone with my patient and no sound must disturb her while I am at work. So if you would see your daughter freed from her malady, you must leave me with her from sunset to sunrise, and give orders to all in the palace that no one is to come near her bedchamber during that time.’

  ‘It shall all be as you advise,’ said King Billing, and so he instructed all his household.

  Then, as night was falling, Vecha made her solitary way to the shadowy chamber where the sun-white Princess Rinda lay sleeping peacefully. There Vecha flung off the disguise and stood forth as Odin the Allfather, kindly but terrible in his majesty.

  With his Rune stick he woke Rinda, and as she woke the madness passed from her and sat up slowly and knew who it was who stood before her.

  ‘Princess Rinda,’ said Odin in his slow gentle voice, ‘you have always wished to be one of my Battle Maidens, my Valkyries, who ride the storm behind me and go forth to choose those who shall fall in battle and come to swell my host of heroes in Valhalla against the Day of Ragnarok. That cannot be, for you are set aside by the Norns for a fate far higher. You alone among mortal women of Midgard are fated to be the mother of one – the youngest – of the Æsir. Vali shall your son be named, and he shall avenge the death of Baldur the beautiful before he takes his place in Asgard. Nor shall he perish in the Last Great Battle where gods and men shall fall!’

  Then the Princess Rinda bowed her head in submission, and when she looked up her eyes were filled with joy at the greatness of the honour which was to be hers. And now she no longer held back when once more Odin asked her to be his wife.

  It was not long, however, before Odin bade farewell to his mortal wife Rinda, and returned to Asgard where his true wife Queen Frigga awaited him, and welcomed him without jealousy, for she knew of the decrees of fate.

  So the Æsir dwelt as of old in Asgard: but still Hodur went unpunished for the fatal throw of the dart which slew Baldur. Still he ventured out from Breidablik only after dark, for day and night were alike to him, being blind, and wandered in the great wood on the Plains of Ida until the first cry of the birds told him that morning was coming.

  Now too he carried on his arm the Shield of Darkness which Mimring the Troll of the Forest had made for him, and also a magic sword which all might fear to meet on a dark night. Yet still, as he wandered, he wept for the death of his beloved brother and for the sad fate which was his.

  Then one day as Heimdall stood on guard at the Gate of Asgard, there came walking up the Bridge Bifrost a little child carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows.

  ‘No child with uncombed hair and unwashed hands passes this way into Asgard!’ cried Heimdall.

  ‘Bring me before Odin the Allfather where he sits in Valhalla!’ replied the child in a voice so strange that Heimdall obeyed without a thought of questioning it.

  They came to Valhalla, and there Hermodur challenged them:

  ‘No child with uncombed hair and unwashed hands passes this way into Valhalla!’ he cried. ‘No man from Midgard may enter who shows no wound nor stain of blood upon him to prove that he died in battle!’

  ‘Bring me before Odin my father,’ answered the child; and his voice was already fuller than when he had first spoken to Heimdall. Even as the Warder of Bifrost had done, the Guardian of Valhalla did not question the imperious voice of the wonderful child. He stood aside, and the boy strode straight up the centre of Valhalla, while the Æsir stared, and the Einheriar, the Heroes, marvelled, until he stood before the throne.

  ‘Welcome!’ cried Odin rising to his feet. ‘This is Vali, my son and the Princess Rinda’s. This is he who was born to perform the holy work of vengeance for Baldur’s death.’

  ‘But how can this boy overcome strong Hodur with his Shield of Darkness and his Sword of Terror?’ asked the Æsir.

  ‘It is true that I am but one night old,’ answered Vali, ‘yet ere this night is passed I shall be fully grown; and even as tender Spring grows and overcomes mighty Winter, so shall I slay Hodur.’

  Then, while all marvelled at his wondrous growth, for he grew from a boy into a youth and from a youth into a man even as they watched him, Vali passed on through the hall of Valhalla and out into the dark woods beyond.

  There Hodur wandered, desperate and desolate, hate growing in his heart which had known only love. And suddenly he heard a clear voice crying aloud:

  ‘Slayer of Baldur, your hour has come! Have a care to yourself, for the avenger is here!’

  Desperately Hodur raised the Shield of Darkness in front of him and rushed towards the sound of the voice, waving the Sword of Terror in his hand. An arrow tore through the darkness – a second – and a third, and Hodur sank to the ground and died.

  Then Vali’s shout of triumph echoed through all Asgard, and as the Æsir hastened to the spot where the dead Hodur lay, they found him a great and shining warrior standing above the body of Baldur’s slayer.

  But down in Hela’s dismal land Hodur passed with bent head over the Gioll Bridge and stood in the shadowy hall, sad and alone.

  Then Baldur rose from his place at the table and came to greet him with open arms and a smile of welcome and forgiveness on his face.

  ‘Greetings, dear brother!’ he cried. ‘Now that you are come, Helheim has lost half its sorrows … It was not you but evil Loki who caused my death – yet I can hardly regret that your hand held the fatal mistletoe, since otherwise you would not have come to join me here in my loneliness. Now you and I are together again, and we may pass our time without sadness, until the Day of Ragnarok when it is fated that we shall see the light again.’

  14

  The Punishment of Loki

  Although Odin seldom smiled now, and Frigga wept often as she sat weaving the clouds in Fensalir, life in Asgard continued for the Æsir much as before the death of Baldur. The shadow of Ragnarok had drawn nearer and hung over them, dark and terrible: but the nightly feast in Valhalla was as joyous as ever; and upon Midgard wars waxed and were waged, the Valkyries rode to more and more battles, and the host of the Einheriar, the Chosen Heroes, grew apace.

  Baldur and Hodur sat no more among the Æsir, and though Vali was now one of them, another face was missing – Loki’s.

  Since the death of Baldur he had not ventured to Asgard. Although no vengeance had been meted out to him, he knew that it must come. Odin could not be ignorant that his hand had shaped the fatal dart of mistletoe and guided Hodur’s hand. Moreover the Æsir must also know that it was he in the likeness of the Giantess Thokk who had refused to weep Baldur out of Helheim.

  But as the time passed and no hand was raised against him, Loki grew tired of stirring up evil in Midgard; and he also began to feel slighted and neglected. It was as if the Æsir had forgotten all about him: and yet surely he, Loki, was as great as any of them, and had done a deed which no one else in all the Nine Worlds would have dared.

  So when the next Festival of Harvest came round, though Loki had not the effrontery to present himself in Asgard, and knew well that his old enemy Heimdall would never allow him to cross the Bifrost Bridge, he set out for Ægir’s halls on the island in the Kattigat.

  Here all the Æsir were feasting as they had done each year since Thor had brought the great brewing kettle: but Thor himself, as Loki well knew, was away in Jotunheim where the Giants were beginning to stir again and plot evil against gods and men.

  At the door of the hall Loki found Eldir, who was Ægir’s cook.

  ‘Tell me, Eldir,’ he said, ‘what are the Æsir talking about as they sit around Ægir’s banquet board?’

  ‘They are talking of their weapons and their deeds of war,’ answered Eldir. ‘Of all those within, both Æsir and Vanir, not one speaks a good word of you.’

  ‘Then I shall go in and take my place among them,’ said Loki. ‘I can at least bring them bitter spice for their drink and mingle venom with their mead!’

  ‘Be sure that if you pour slander an
d foul words on the Æsir, they will wipe it off on you,’ warned Eldir.

  But Loki replied scornfully: ‘You talk too much, but you can never out-talk me, for I have an answer to everything!’ and with that he pushed past him into the hall.

  When Loki appeared, silence fell upon all the Æsir, and they sat looking with loathing and contempt upon their evil and unwelcome visitor.

  ‘I arrive here thirsty and tired after a long journey,’ cried Loki impudently, ‘and not one of the Æsir so much as offers me a drink of the good mead. Why do you all sit silent? Will you not at least ask me to sit at your table?’

  ‘The Æsir will never again give you a seat at their banquet,’ said Bragi. ‘For they know well what you have done – and what you deserve.’

  ‘Odin, do you not remember your oath?’ cried Loki, turning to the Allfather. ‘In the morning of time we blended our blood together, and you vowed never to refuse me a share of any cup of ale that you raised to your lips.’

  ‘That is true,’ answered Odin quietly. ‘Therefore, Vidar my son, move up so that the Father of the Fenris Wolf may sit. Never let it be said that the Æsir forgot an oath.’

  Loki seated himself and took a long pull at the mead-cup. But he could no longer control his evil tongue, and the hate and jealousy within him welled up until he could contain himself no longer.

  ‘Greetings to you, mighty Æsir!’ he cried. ‘I greet you all, except cowardly Bragi who would have kept me away from my rightful place among you.’

  ‘I will give you out of my store a steed and a sword: yes, and rings too,’ said Bragi in an undertone, ‘if only you will cease abusing the Æsir: if only you will keep the peace at this solemn feast.’

  ‘Bragi, you coward!’ shouted Loki. ‘You never fought in a battle, nor used sword or horse. No, you were hiding in case a stray arrow should find you!’

  ‘Be sure if we were outside, and not guests at Ægir’s feast, I would have your severed head in my hand before many minutes were passed,’ said Bragi hotly.

  ‘I pray you, for the sake of our love, do not provoke Loki now!’ whispered the fair Iduna laying one hand on her husband’s arm and the other on Loki’s shoulder.

  ‘Hold your peace, Iduna,’ said Loki. ‘I think you the most evil-minded of women thus to touch me who slew your husband’s brother.’

  ‘I do but try to keep the peace,’ sobbed Iduna, ‘for I would not see you and Bragi come to blows here in Ægir’s hall.’

  ‘Surely you are drunk or mad to behave thus, Loki,’ cried Odin. ‘Therefore speak no more, unless you speak words of peace.’

  ‘It is you, Odin, who should be ashamed to interfere between warriors,’ shouted Loki. ‘Everyone knows that you have often given the victory in battle to cowards and shaken Gungnir over the heads of men braver than yourself. Moreover you played the coward yourself in the island of Samsey, turning yourself into a witch and doing the vile things that witches do!’

  ‘You should not speak of ancient things done at the beginning of the world when you and Odin were as brothers,’ said Queen Frigga hastily, trying to keep the peace.

  ‘Keep quiet, Frigga the faithless,’ screamed Loki. ‘We all know that you were the lover of Vili and Ve while their brother Odin was away!’

  This was so absurd a thing to say about Frigga, the goddess of married love and faith, that all the Æsir laughed, though Frigga cried:

  ‘If only my son Baldur were here, you would not dare to insult me so!’

  ‘Baldur will never sit at your feasts again,’ taunted Loki, ‘for I caused his death, and kept him in Helheim!’

  ‘Hold your peace, you drunken braggart,’ cried Freya angrily. ‘You are no man, but a mere half-woman!’

  ‘Filthy witch-hag!’ gasped Loki, for Freya’s words were the most unforgivable insult that could ever be spoken in the North. ‘There is not one of the Æsir who has not been your lover; and I know well what you did with the Dwarfs to win the Brisingamen!’

  Now more than one of the Æsir clapped hand to sword and made ready to fall upon Loki. But at a sign from Odin they sat back and were silent.

  After a few minutes Loki, who could not bear to be ignored, began again:

  ‘Ha, there I see my friend Tyr!’ he cried. ‘Tyr the war-lord! A poor war-lord with only one hand! My sweet son Fenris Wolf bit it off.’

  ‘The Wolf lies bound at the world’s end,’ said Frey quietly. ‘Unless you are careful of your words, Loki, it will be your turn next to feel our chains about you.’

  ‘And who are you to gibe at my son Fenris?’ cried Loki. ‘You who bought a woman, Gymir’s daughter, with your sword. When Fenris comes against you at Ragnarok he will make an easy meal of a warrior who has lost his sword.’

  ‘You are drunk, Loki, and out of your wits,’ said Heimdall quietly. ‘Go outside now as a decent drinker should. We babble nonsense in our cups, and our words are soon forgotten – if we stop in time.’

  ‘So you have come to the banquet, shivering servant of the Æsir,’ sneered Loki. ‘You are tired, I suppose, of standing in the rain on Bifrost Bridge with never a wink of sleep!’

  Then Skadi spoke in a cold, faraway voice, the gift of the seeress coming upon her so that for a moment she could see into the future:

  ‘Loki the dog!’ she said. ‘Loki the dog! Not long shall he go free with his tail wagging! I see him bound upon sword-sharp rocks by the Æsir – fettered by wolf-sinews, fettered by iron, fettered by his own son!’

  ‘And does Skadi, the Giant’s daughter, deign to speak to me!’ cried Loki. ‘She forgets that I was the foremost at the slaughter of her father Thiassi … She only remembers that she was once my lover!’

  ‘Now drink this goblet of old mead, and cease from this senseless talk and these untrue tales,’ said the golden-haired Sif gently, making a final attempt to keep the peace of the banquet. ‘Drink, and cease from reviling the Æsir.’

  But Loki was past all reason now:

  ‘And here is Sif!’ he cried. ‘Sif whose hair I once took! Even she proved unfaithful to her husband and held me in her arms instead!’

  Even as he spoke there came a rumble of thunder; the earth shook, and Thor himself strode into the hall, his red beard bristling and sparking with anger.

  ‘Hold your peace, vile creature!’ he roared. ‘Miolnir, my mighty hammer, shall cut short your speech if you utter another lying word.’

  ‘Ha, the son of dirt at last!’ sneered Loki, edging his way towards the door none the less. ‘You threaten now, mighty Thor: but you will change your tune when you meet my Fenris Wolf at Ragnarok!’

  ‘That is as the Norns shall decide,’ answered Thor. ‘But speak again and I will fling you into the uttermost Arctic where none shall see you more.’

  ‘Never speak of journeys into Jotunheim!’ scoffed Loki. ‘We all know how you hid in the thumb of Skrymir’s glove. And as for flinging me, we know also that even Skrymir’s wallet was so tightly laced that you could not undo the straps, and were forced to go without your supper.’

  ‘The hammer that killed Rungnir shall kill you also!’ roared Thor, whirling up Miolnir, ‘and you shall go to Nastrond and boil in Hvengelmir as food for the Nid Hog!’

  ‘I have only spoken the truth, but I will go now,’ shouted Loki. ‘I know of old that Thor cannot keep his temper! … As for Ægir’s hall, I hope it burns with fire before another year is over!’

  With that he departed; but the Æsir, now roused to great anger, held council there and then, and swore never to rest until Loki was caught and bound. So, when the feast was ended, they went out over the world in search of him.

  Loki knew well that the Æsir would never forgive what he had done, nor leave him to work more evil; so he set about finding a safe hiding-place.

  After wandering through Midgard for some time he decided on a certain lofty mountain from which he could see for many miles in every direction. Here he built himself a house with four doors beside the Frananger Falls; and he would often turn himself
into a salmon and hide in the deep river or behind the arch of the falling water.

  ‘They can never catch me here!’ he cried boastfully as he sat one day by the fire in his house, keeping a wary lookout through all his doors. ‘I could see them coming far away, change myself into a salmon, and hide so well in the Frananger Falls or away down the river that none of them would find me … If they borrowed Ran’s net they might catch me, even as I caught Andvari the Dwarf. But Ran is my friend: we both delight in working evil – and she will never lend her net … As for the Æsir, they will never think of making one. And even if they did, none of them have the skill to do it. Even I would find it difficult; but of course there is nothing that I cannot do! I suppose I would begin like this …’

  He took up a length of twine and began knitting and tying it cunningly into the meshes of a net. Happening to look up after a little while, he saw a band of the Æsir, headed by Thor, coming up the mountain in the distance.

  With a curse he flung the half-made net into the fire, slipped out of the further door and, turning himself into a salmon, slid out of sight into the river and hid under the Frananger Falls.

  When the Æsir arrived at the house there was no sign of Loki, nor could they discover him anywhere nearby.

  ‘This is where he was, however,’ insisted Thor. ‘For father Odin saw him here when he looked out from Lidskialf over all the worlds. Loki was sitting in this house beside the waterfall.’

  The mention of the waterfall seemed to remind Honir of something, and he turned back into the house and looked long and carefully at the fire.

  ‘See,’ he said quietly, ‘those ashes form part of a net such as Ran uses to draw sailors down under the sea.

  ‘Now I remember once on a time how Odin and Loki and I went forth into Midgard, and Loki caught the Dwarf Andvari with Ran’s net when the Dwarf had turned himself into a fish and hidden under just such a waterfall as this … It seems to me that Loki must be hiding under the Frananger Falls in the shape of a fish, and before we came he was trying to see if it were possible to make a net. For he knows well that Ran will never lend hers to catch one of the Giant kin. So let us see if we can make such a net ourselves, and fish for Loki!’