Hero Tales

by James Baldwin

  THE FORGING OF BALMUNG

  While Siegfried was still a young lad, his father sent him to live witha smith called Mimer, whose smithy was among the hills not far from thegreat forest. For in those early times the work of the smith waslooked upon as the most worthy of all trades,--a trade which the godsthemselves were not ashamed to follow. And this smith Mimer was awonderful master,--the wisest and most cunning that the world had everseen. Men said that he was akin to the dwarf-folk who had ruled theearth in the early days, and who were learned in every lore, andskilled in every craft; and they said that he was so exceeding old thatno one could remember the day when he came to dwell in the land ofSiegfried's people. Some said, too, that he was the keeper of awonderful well, or flowing spring, the waters of which imparted wisdomand far-seeing knowledge to all who drank of them.

  To Mimer's school, then, where he would be taught to work skilfully andto think wisely, Siegfried was sent, to be in all respects like theother pupils there. A coarse blue blouse and heavy leggings and aleathern apron took the place of the costly clothing which he had wornin his father's dwelling. On his feet were awkward wooden sandals, andhis head was covered with a wolfskin cap. The dainty bed, with itsdowny pillows, wherein every night his mother had been wont, withgentle care, to see him safely covered, was given up for a rude heap ofstraw in a corner of the smithy. And the rich food to which he hadbeen used gave place to the coarsest and humblest fare. But the laddid not complain. The days which he passed in the smithy were mirthfuland happy; and the sound of his hammer rang cheerfully, and the sparksfrom his forge flew briskly, from morning till night.

  And a wonderful smith he became. No one could do more work than he,and none wrought with greater skill. The heaviest chains and thestrongest bolts, for prison or for treasure house, were but as toys inhis stout hands, so easily and quickly did he beat them into shape.Cunning also was he in work of the most delicate and brittle kind.Ornaments of gold and silver studded with the rarest jewels, werefashioned into beautiful forms by his deft fingers. And among all ofMimer's apprentices none learned the master's lore so readily, orgained the master's favor more.

  One morning the master, Mimer, came to the smithy with a troubled lookupon his face. It was clear that something had gone amiss; and what itwas the apprentices soon learned from the smith himself. Never, untillately, had any one questioned Mimer's right to be called the foremostsmith in all the world; but now a rival had come forward. An unknownupstart---one Amilias, a giant of Burgundy--had made a suit of armor,which, he boasted, no stroke of sword could dint, and no blow of spearcould scratch; and he had sent a challenge to all other smiths, both inthe Rhine country and elsewhere, to equal that piece of workmanship, orelse acknowledge themselves his underlings and vassals. For many dayshad Mimer himself toiled, alone and vainly, trying to forge a swordwhose edge the boasted armor of Amilias could not foil; and now, indespair, he came to ask the help of his pupils and apprentices.

  "Who among you is skilful enough to forge such a sword?" he asked,

  One after another, the pupils shook their heads. And the foreman ofthe apprentices said, "I have heard much about that wonderful armor,and its extreme hardness, and I doubt if any skill can make a swordwith edge so sharp and true as to cut into it. The best that can bedone is to try to make another war coat whose temper shall equal thatof Amilias's armor."

  Then the lad Siegfried quickly said, "I will make such a sword as youwant,--a blade that no war coat can foil. Give me but leave to try!"

  The other pupils laughed in scorn, but Mimer checked them. "You hearhow this boy can talk: we will see what he can do. He is the king'sson, and we know that he has uncommon talent. He shall make the sword;but if, upon trial, it fail, I will make him rue the day."

  Then Siegfried went to his task. And for seven days and seven nightsthe sparks never stopped flying from his forge; and the ringing of hisanvil, and the hissing of the hot metal as he tempered it, were heardcontinuously. On the eighth day the sword was fashioned, and Siegfriedbrought it to Mimer.

  The smith felt the razor edge of the bright weapon, and said, "Thisseems, indeed, a fair fire edge. Let us make a trial of its keenness."

  Then a thread of wool as light as thistle-down was thrown upon water,and, as it floated there, Mimer struck it with the sword. Theglittering blade cleft the thread in twain, and the pieces floatedundisturbed upon the surface of the liquid.

  "Well done!" cried the delighted smith. "Never have I seen a keeneredge. If its temper is as true as its sharpness would lead us tobelieve, it will indeed serve me well."

  But Siegfried took the sword again, and broke it into many pieces; andfor three days he welded it in a white-hot fire, and tempered it withmilk and oatmeal. Then, in sight of the sneering apprentices, a lightball of fine-spun wool was cast upon the flowing water of the brook;and it was caught in the swift eddies of the stream, and whirled aboutuntil it met the bared blade of the sword, which was held inSiegfried's hands. And the ball was parted as easily and clean as therippling water, and not the smallest thread was moved out of its place.

  Then back to the smithy Siegfried went again; and his forge glowed witha brighter fire, and his hammer rang upon the anvil with a cheeriersound, than ever before. He suffered none to come near, and no oneever knew what witchery he used. But some of his fellow pupilsafterwards told how, in the dusky twilight, they had seen a one-eyedman, long-bearded, and clad in a cloud-gray kirtle, and wearing asky-blue hood, talking with Siegfried at the smithy door. And theysaid that the stranger's face was at once pleasant and fearful to lookupon, and that his one eye shone in the gloaming like the evening star,and that, when he had placed in Siegfried's hands bright shards, likepieces of a broken sword, he faded suddenly from their sight, and wasseen no more.

  For seven weeks the lad wrought day and night at his forge; and then,pale and haggard, but with a pleased smile upon his face, he stoodbefore Mimer, with the sword in his hands. "It is finished," he said."Behold the glittering terror!--the blade Balmung. Let us try its edgeand prove its temper once again, that so we may know whether you canplace your trust in it."

  Mimer looked long at the ruddy hilt of the weapon, and at the mysticrunes that were scored upon its sides, and at the keen edge, whichlooked like a ray of sunlight in the gathering gloom of the evening.But no word came from his lips, and his eyes were dim and dazed; and heseemed as one lost in thoughts of days long past and gone.

  Siegfried raised the blade high over his head; and the gleaming edgeflashed hither and thither, like the lightning's play when Thor ridesover the storm clouds. Then suddenly it fell upon the master's anvil,and the solid block of iron was cleft in two; but the blade was no whitdulled by the stroke, and the line of light which marked the edge wasbrighter than before.

  Then to the brook they went; and a great pack of wool, the fleeces often sheep, was brought, and thrown upon the swirling water. As thestream bore the bundle downwards, Mimer held the sword in its way. Andthe whole was divided as easily and as clean as the woollen ball or theslender woollen thread had been cleft before.

  "Now, indeed," cried Mimer, "I no longer fear to meet that upstart,Amilias. If his war coat can withstand the stroke of such a sword asBalmung, then I shall not be ashamed to be his underling. But, if thisgood blade is what it seems to be, it will not fail me; and I, Mimerthe Old, shall still be called the wisest and greatest of smiths."

  He sent word at once to Amilias, in Burgundyland, to meet him on a day,and settle forever the question as to which of the two should be themaster, and which the underling. And heralds proclaimed it in everytown and dwelling. When the time which had been set drew near, Mimer,bearing the sword Balmung, and followed by all his pupils andapprentices, wended his way toward the place of meeting. Through theforest they went, and then along the banks of the sluggish river, formany a league, to the height of land which marked the line betweenSiegfried's country and the country of the Burgundians. It was in thisplace, midway between
the shops of Mimer and Amilias, that the greattrial of metal and of skill was to be made. And here were alreadygathered great numbers of people from the Lowlands and from Burgundy,anxiously waiting for the coming of the champions.

  When everything was in readiness for the contest, Amilias, clad in hisboasted war coat, went up to the top of the hill, and sat upon a rock,and waited for Mimer's coming. As he sat there, he looked, to thepeople below, like some great castle tower; for he was a giant in size,and his coat of mail was so huge that twenty men of common mould mighthave found shelter, or hidden themselves, within it. As the smithMimer, so dwarfish in stature, tolled up the steep hillside, Amiliassmiled to see him; for he felt no fear of the slender, gleaming bladethat was to try the metal of his war coat. And already a shout orexpectant triumph went up from the throats of the Burgundian hosts, sosure were they of their champion's success.

  But Mimer's friends waited in breathless silence, hoping, and yetfearing. Only Siegfried's father, the king, whispered to his queen,and said, "Knowledge is stronger than brute force. The smallest dwarfwho has drunk from the well of the Knowing One may safely meet thestoutest giant in battle."

  When Mimer reached the top of the hill, Amilias folded his huge arms,and smiled again; for he felt that this contest was mere play for him,and that Mimer was already as good as beaten, and his thrall. Thesmith paused a moment to take breath, and as he stood by the side ofhis foe he looked to those below like a mere black speck close beside asteel-gray castle tower.

  "Are you ready?" asked the smith.

  "Ready," answered Amilias. "Strike!"

  Mimer raised the blade in the air, and for a moment the lightningseemed to play around his head. The muscles on his short, brawny arms,stood out like ropes; and then Balmung, descending, cleft the air fromright to left. The waiting lookers-on in the plain below thought tohear the noise of clashing steel; but they listened in vain, for nosound came to their ears, save a sharp hiss like that which red hotiron gives when plunged into a tank of cold water. The huge Amiliassat unmoved, with his arms still folded upon his breast; but the smilehad faded from his face.

  "How do you feel now?" asked Mimer in a half-mocking tone.

  "Rather strangely, as if cold iron had touched me," faintly answeredthe giant.

  "Shake thyself!" cried Mimer.

  Amilias did so, and, lo! he fell in two halves; for the sword had cutsheer through the vaunted war coat, and cleft in twain the great bodyincased within. Down tumbled the giant's head and his still foldedarms; and they rolled with thundering noise to the foot of the hill,and fell with a fearful splash into the deep waters of the river; andthere, fathoms down, they may even now be seen, when the water isclear, lying like gray rocks among the sand and gravel below. The restof the body, with the armor which incased it, still sat upright in itsplace; and to this day travellers sailing down the river are shown onmoonlit evenings the luckless armor of Amilias on the high hilltop. Inthe dim, uncertain light, one easily fancies it to be the ivy-coveredruins of some old castle of feudal times.

  The master, Mimer, sheathed his sword, and walked slowly down thehillside to the plain, where his friends welcomed him with cheers andshouts of joy. But the Burgundians, baffled, and feeling vexed, turnedsilently homeward, nor cast a single look back to the scene of theirdisappointment and their ill-fated champion's defeat.

  Siegfried went again with the master and his fellows to the smokysmithy, to his roaring bellows and ringing anvil, and to his coarsefare, and rude, hard bed, and to a life of labor. And while all menpraised Mimer and his knowing skill, and the fiery edge of the sunbeamblade, no one knew that it was the boy Siegfried who had wrought thatpiece of workmanship.