Sagas and Myths of the Northmen

by Jesse L. Byock

  Now it is to be told of Signy that she went to her brother’s underground dwelling and asked him to give her refuge for the night, ‘for I have lost my way out in the forest, and I do not know where I am going.’ He said that she could stay and that he would not refuse shelter to a woman alone, believing she would not repay his hospitality by betraying him. She entered his shelter and they sat down to eat. He frequently glanced at her and found her a fine and handsome woman. And when they had eaten their fill he told her that he wanted them to share one bed that night. She did not object and he had her next to him for three nights in a row. After that she returned home, met with the sorceress, and asked that they exchange shapes again, which the sorceress did.

  And after a time Signy gave birth to a son. This son was called Sinfjotli. And when he grew up he was both large and strong, handsome of appearance, and very like the Volsung stock. He was not quite ten years old when Signy sent him to Sigmund in his underground shelter. Before sending her first sons to Sigmund, she had tested them by stitching the cuffs of their kirtles to their hands, passing the needle through both flesh and skin. They withstood the ordeal poorly and cried out in pain. She also did this to Sinfjotli; he did not flinch. Then she ripped the kirtle from him, so that the skin followed the sleeves. She said that it must certainly he painful for him. He replied: ‘Such pain would seem trifling to Volsung.’

  Then the boy came to Sigmund. Sigmund asked him to knead their flour while he went to look for firewood. He handed the boy a sack and then went off for the wood. When he returned, Sinfjotli had finished the baking. Then Sigmund asked if he had discovered anything in the flour. ‘I am not without suspicion,’ he said, ‘that there was something alive in the flour when I first began kneading, but I have kneaded it in, whatever it was.’ Then Sigmund said and laughed as he spoke: ‘I do not think you should make your meal from this bread tonight, for you have kneaded into it the most poisonous of snakes.’ Sigmund was so hardy that he could eat poison with no ill effect. Sinfjotli, however, although he could tolerate poison externally, could neither eat nor drink it.

  Sigmund and Sinfjotli Don the Skins

  It is now to be told that Sigmund thought Sinfjotli too young to seek vengeance with him, and that he first wanted to accustom the boy to hardship. During the summers they traveled widely through the forests, killing men for booty. It seemed to Sigmund that Sinfjotli took much after the Volsung race. Nevertheless, he believed the boy to be the son of King Siggeir and to have the evil disposition of his father along with the fierce zeal of the Volsungs. Sigmund felt that Sinfjotli did not put much store in kinship, for the boy often reminded Sigmund of his grievances, strongly urging the man to kill King Siggeir.

  One time, they went again to the forest to get themselves some riches, and they found a house. Inside it were two sleeping men, with thick gold rings. A spell had been cast upon them: wolfskins hung over them in the house and only every tenth day could they shed the skins. They were the sons of kings. Sigmund and Sinfjotli put the skins on and could not get them off. And the weird power was there as before: they howled like wolves, both understanding the sounds. Now they set out into the forest, each going his own way. They agreed then that they would risk a fight with as many as seven men, but not with more, and that the one being attacked by more would howl with his wolf’s voice. ‘Do not break this agreement,’ said Sigmund, ‘because you are young and daring, and men will want to hunt you.’

  Now each went his own way. And when they had parted, Sigmund found seven men and howled in his wolf’s voice. Sinfjotli heard him, came at once, and killed them all. They parted again. Before Sinfjotli had traveled very far in the forest, he met with eleven men and fought them. In the end he killed them all. Badly wounded, Sinfjotli went under an oak tree to rest. Then Sigmund came and said: ‘Why didn’t you call?’ Sinfjotli replied: ‘I did not want to call you for help. You accepted help to kill seven men. I am a child in age next to you, but I did not ask for help in killing eleven men.’ Sigmund leapt at him so fiercely that Sinfjotli staggered and fell. Sigmund bit him in the windpipe. That day they were not able to come out of the wolfskins. Sigmund laid Sinfjotli over his shoulder, carried him home to the hut, and sat over him. He cursed the wolfskins, bidding the trolls to take them.

  One day Sigmund saw two weasels. One bit the other in the windpipe and then ran into the woods, returning with a leaf and laying it on the wound. The other weasel sprang up healed. Sigmund went out and saw a raven flying with a leaf. The raven brought the leaf to Sigmund, who drew it over Sinfjotli’s wound. At once Sinfjotli sprang up healed, as if he had never been injured.

  Then they went to the underground dwelling and stayed there until they were to take off the wolfskins. They took the skins and burned them in the fire, hoping that these objects would cause no further harm. Under that magic spell they had performed many feats in King Siggeir’s kingdom. When Sinfjotli was fully grown Sigmund thought he had tested him fully.

  It was not long before Sigmund wanted to seek vengeance for his father Volsung, if it could be brought about. One day they left the underground dwelling and came late in the evening to King Siggeir’s estate. They entered the outer room, which was in front of the main hall. Inside the room were ale casks, and there they hid themselves. The queen found out where they were and wanted to meet with them. And when they met, they decided that when it grew dark they would take revenge for their father.

  Signy and the king had two young children. They played together in the hall with golden toys, rolling the toys along the floor and running after them. One gold ring was flung farther out, into the room where Sigmund and Sinfjotli were, and the boy ran after the ring to look for it. Then he saw two large, fierce men sitting there wearing long helmets and shining mail. He ran into the hall to his father and told him what he had seen. The king suspected treachery. Signy heard what they said. She rose up, took both children, went to the outer room to Sigmund and Sinfjotli and said they should know that the children had betrayed them, ‘and I would advise you to kill them.’

  Sigmund said: ‘I will not kill your children, even if they have betrayed me.’ But Sinfjotli did not falter. He drew his sword and killed both children, casting them into the hall in front of King Siggeir. The king now stood up and called on his followers to seize the men who had been hiding in the entrance hall all evening. Men ran out, wanting to seize them, but Sigmund and Sinfjotli defended themselves well and valiantly. For a long while the one who was nearest them thought himself to have it the worst. But at last Sigmund and Sinfjotli were overpowered and captured. They were bound and fettered, and there they sat all night.

  Now the king considered what was the slowest death he could prepare for them. When morning came he had a large cairn built of stones and turf. When the mound was finished he had a huge stone slab set in the middle of the cairn so that one edge pointed upward and the other downward. The stone was so large that it reached both sides of the cairn and no one could go around it. Now he had Sigmund and Sinfjotli taken and put in the mound, one on each side of the stone, because he thought it worse for them not to be together, yet be able to hear each other. And when they were covering the mound with turf, Signy came up, holding some straw in her arms, and she threw it into the mound to Sinfjotli and told the thralls to conceal her act from the king. They agreed and then the mound was closed.

  And when night came Sinfjotli spoke to Sigmund: ‘I do not think that our food will run short for a while, for the queen has thrown some pork wrapped in straw into the mound.’ And he felt the pork again and found that Sigmund’s sword was stuck in it. He knew it by the hilt, for it was dark in the cairn. He told Sigmund and they both were overjoyed. Now Sinfjotli thrust the sword’s point up over the rock and pulled hard. The sword bit into the slab. Sigmund grasped the point and they sawed the rock between them. They did not stop until the sawing was finished, as is told:

  They cut with might

  The massive slab,

  Sigmund, with his swo
rd,

  And Sinfjotli.

  They were now both loose together in the cairn and they sawed through both rock and iron, thus coming out of the mound. They went back to the hall. All the men were asleep. They carried wood to the hall and set the wood afire. Those inside woke up because of the smoke and the hall blazing around them. The king asked who had set the fire. ‘Here am I with Sinfjotli, my sister’s son,’ said Sigmund, ‘and we now want for you to know that not all the Volsungs are dead.’

  Sigmund asked his sister to come out and receive from him esteem and great honor, for he wished in this way to amend her sorrows. She replied: ‘Now you shall know whether I remember the slaying of King Volsung by King Siggeir. I had our children killed when I thought them too slow in avenging our father, and I came to you in the forest in the shape of a sorceress, and Sinfjotli is our son. Because of this he has so much zeal; he is the child of both a son and a daughter of King Volsung. In everything I have worked toward the killing of King Siggeir. I have worked so hard to bring about vengeance that I am by no means fit to live. Willingly I shall now die with King Siggeir, although I married him reluctantly.’ Then she kissed her brother Sigmund and Sinfjotli, walked into the fire, and wished them farewell. She died there with King Siggeir and all the retainers.

  The kinsmen, Sigmund and Sinfjotli, gathered together men and ships, and Sigmund set out for his patrimony. There he expelled from the country the king who had set himself up as ruler after King Volsung. Sigmund now became a rich and excellent king, wise and ambitious. He married a woman called Borghild. They had two sons, one named Helgi and the other Hamund. And when Helgi was born, Norns came and set his destiny, saying that he would become the most famous of all kings. Sigmund had returned from battle and went with a leek to meet his son. He gave the boy the name Helgi, and as gifts for this name-fastening he granted Hringstead, Solfell, and a sword. He bid the child to advance himself well and to take after the race of the Volsungs. Helgi grew to be magnanimous and well loved and surpassed most other men in all accomplishments. It is said that he went warring when he was fifteen years old. Helgi was king over the troops, and Sinfjotli was asked to accompany him. Both commanded the men.

  [ … ]

  The Birth of Sigurd

  It is now said that Hjordis gave birth to a son and the boy was brought before Alf’s father, King Hjalprek. The king was pleased when he saw the boy’s piercing eyes, and he said that none would be his like or equal. The child was sprinkled with water and named Sigurd. All say one thing about him: that none was his match in conduct and size. He was raised there with King Hjalprek, and all showed him great affection. And when all the most renowned men and kings in the ancient sagas are named, Sigurd must be counted the foremost in strength and accomplishments, in zeal and valor. Of these qualities he possessed more than any other man in the northern world. Sigurd grew up there with Hjalprek and was loved by everyone. Hjalprek betrothed Hjordis to King Alf and fixed her dowry.

  Regin, the son of Hreidmar, was Sigurd’s foster father. He taught Sigurd sports, chess, and runes. Among many other things, he also taught Sigurd to speak in several tongues, as was the custom for a king’s son. One time, when they were both together, Regin asked Sigurd if he knew how much wealth his father had had and who was guarding it. Sigurd answered and said that the kings watched over it. Regin said: ‘Do you trust them completely?’ Sigurd replied: ‘It is fitting that they guard it as long as it suits me, for they can watch over it better than I.’

  Regin came another time to talk to Sigurd and said: ‘It is strange that you want to be the stableboy of kings or to go about like a vagrant.’ Sigurd answered: ‘That is not true, for I rule over everything with them. I can take whatever I want.’ Regin said: ‘Ask him to give you a horse.’ ‘It will be done as soon as I wish,’ answered Sigurd.

  Sigurd met now with the kings. Then the king said to Sigurd, ‘What do you want from us?’ Sigurd replied: ‘I would accept a horse for my entertainment.’ The king said: ‘Choose yourself a horse and anything else you want that we possess.’

  The next day Sigurd went to the forest and met an old man with a long beard. The man was unknown to Sigurd. He asked where Sigurd was going. Sigurd answered: ‘I am going to choose a horse. Advise me in this.’ The man responded: ‘Let us go and drive them to the river called Busiltjorn.’

  They drove the horses out into the deep river and all swam ashore but one; Sigurd took this one. It was gray in color, young in age, very large and handsome. No one had ever mounted this steed. The bearded man said: ‘This horse is descended from Sleipnir. He must be raised carefully, because he will become better than any other horse.’ The man disappeared then. Sigurd called the horse Grani, and he was the best horse there ever was. It was Odin whom Sigurd had met.

  Again Regin spoke to Sigurd: ‘You have too little wealth. It vexes me that you run around like a messenger boy. But I can tell you where there is great wealth to be had. And it is likely that there would be honor in seeking it and glory should you acquire it.’ Sigurd asked where this wealth might be and who was watching over it.

  Regin answered: ‘He is named Fafnir, and he is lying a short way from here at a place called Gnitaheath. When you get there, you will say that never have you seen in one place more riches in gold. And you will not need more, even if you become the oldest and most famous of kings.’

  Sigurd answered: ‘Although I am young, I know the nature of this serpent, and I have heard that no one dare go against him because of his size and ferocity.’ Regin replied: ‘That is not true. His size is no different from that of other grass snakes and more is made of it than it deserves. And so it would have seemed to your forefathers. Although you are of the Volsung stock, you do not appear to have the spirit of that kin, which is figured the foremost in every form of distinction.’

  Sigurd said: ‘It may be that I do not have much of their valor or skill, but there is no need to taunt me when I am yet little past childhood. But why do you urge me on so strongly?’ Regin replied: ‘There is a tale behind this, and I will tell it to you.’ ‘Let me hear it,’ said Sigurd.

  The Otter’s Ransom

  ‘This tale begins with my father, who was named Hreidmar, a great and wealthy man. One of his sons was named Fafnir, another Otr, and I was the third, the least accomplished and the least honored. I knew how to work iron as well as silver and gold, and from everything I could make something useful. My brother Otr had a different occupation and nature. He was a great fisherman and surpassed other men in this skill. He had the likeness of an otter during the day and was always in the river bringing up fish in his mouth. He brought his catch to his father and thus greatly helped him. He was in many ways like an otter. He came home late and ate alone with his eyes shut, because he could not stand seeing his food diminish. Fafnir was by far the largest and the fiercest of the sons, and he wanted to call everything his own.

  ‘There was a dwarf named Andvari,’ said Regin. ‘He was always in the waterfall called Andvari’s Fall. He was in the shape of a pike and caught food there for himself, for there were many fish in the falls. My brother Otr used to go into the waterfall and bring up fish in his mouth, laying them one by one on the bank. Odin, Loki, and Hœnir were traveling and came to Andvari’s Fall. Otr had caught a salmon and was eating it, half dozing on the riverbank. Loki took a stone and struck the otter to death. The Æsir considered themselves fortunate in their catch and skinned the otter.

  ‘That evening they came to Hreidmar’s and showed him the catch. Then we seized them, imposing as their fine and ransom that they must fill the skin with gold and cover the outside with red gold. They sent Loki to obtain the gold. He went to Ran and got her net. Next he went to Andvari’s Fall and cast the net out for the pike, and it leapt into the net. Then Loki said,

  Which is the fish

  That runs through the flood,

  And knows not to guard himself from danger?

  Your head,

  Ransom it from Hel

&
nbsp; And find me the fire of the well.

  Andvari is my name,

  Odin was my father;

  Many a falls have I fared over.

  A wretched Norn

  Destined in ancient days

  That I should wade in water.

  ‘Loki saw Andvari’s gold. And when Andvari had handed over the gold he kept one ring back. But Loki took it from him. The dwarf went into the rock and said that the gold ring would be the death of whoever owned it, and the same applied to all the gold.

  ‘The Æsir delivered the riches to Hreidmar, stuffed the otter skin, and set it on its feet. They then had to pile up the gold next to it and cover the outside. And when that was done, Hreidmar came forward and saw one whisker and demanded that it be covered. Then Odin drew the ring, Andvaranaut, from his hand and covered the hair. Then Loki said,

  With gold you are now paid

  And as payment you have

  Much for my head.

  No ease

  Is assigned to your son;

  Death it is to you both.