Chapter 15

The Story of the Magic Sword

_This is the tale the Northmen tell of how a great feud arose between the Volsungs and the Goths._

Sigi, the son of Odin, was a man mighty in the hunt, and he lived in the house of Skadi. And one day he went out to the woods with Bredi, Skadi's servant, and they hunted deer all day long. But when they gathered their spoil in the evening, it was found that Bredi had slain far more than Sigi, and it vexed the soul of Sigi that a servant should hunt better than his master. So, in his jealous rage, he fell upon Bredi and killed him, and hid his body in a snowdrift, after which he rode home in the gloaming, with the tale that Bredi had ridden away from him into the wild woods.

"Out of the sight of mine eyes he rode," said he, "and I know not what has become of him."

But Skadi did not believe his words--for Sigi's eyes looked sideways as he spoke--and he sent and searched the woods, and the body of Bredi was found in a snowdrift. Then, his dark suspicion being confirmed, he took Sigi and put him forth from the land and commanded that he be an outlaw for ever.

Sigi embarked upon the ocean in a small boat, and he had not been sailing long when a little skiff drew near, wherein was an old man with one eye, wearing a broad-brimmed grey hat. This was none other than Odin, who had come to succour his son, and he took the boat in tow and brought Sigi to a war vessel manned with a brave crew, well armed and provided, which he gave into his charge, promising that victory in battle should always be his.

Then Sigi took fresh heart and, ever aided by the powerful favour of Odin, he won at length dominion and lordship over the great empire of the Huns.

Yet did he not escape punishment for the evil deed of his youth, for when he was very old the favour of Odin forsook him; and the brother of his wife, whom he trusted above all men, fell upon him with treachery and slew him.

But the son of Sigi was now a brave youth, and gathering the warriors of his land he drove out his mother's kindred and took the kingdom for himself. When peace had settled upon it he took unto him a wife, and Frigga blessed them with a fine little son, whom they named Volsung. But while the boy was yet quite young Rerir, his father, went out to the wars and was killed, and the Battle Maidens carried him away to Odin and the festal halls of Valhalla.

The young Volsung grew mightily in valour and in strength, so that when he had come to man's estate his renown was greater than that of his father or grandfather, and all men knew him to be a true son of the race of Odin.

So in due time he became the founder of a great family, and the builder of a mighty house. The walls of his dwelling were hung with battle shields taken from the foe, and in the midst of the floor

"Sprang up a mighty tree That reared its blessings roofward, and wreathed the roof-tree dear With the glory of the summer and the garland of the year."

Underneath the branches of this gigantic "Branstock," as the tree was named, dwelt Volsung and his wife and their eleven children. Ten stalwart sons had he and one fair daughter, Signy by name.

Now when Signy was become a tall and stately maiden, it came to pass that Siggeir, King of the Goths, sent messages to beg that she might be given to him in marriage. And because Volsung had heard a good report of his success in war, he promised his daughter to him without setting eyes upon his face.

But when he came to claim the promise, Signy saw that her bridegroom was small and dark and evil of countenance, different indeed from the tall, fair, open-faced Northmen, and her heart sank within her.

The sacred pledge had been given, however, and no Northland maiden could draw back from the plighted word.

True to her hero-blood, Signy went through the marriage ceremony with seeming cheerfulness, and none but her twin-brother Sigmund knew her grief.

The wedding feast was celebrated with magnificence. Great fires burned brightly along the hall, and the flickering flames cast a lurid glow upon the huge oak which upreared its massive and fantastic shape in the centre.

Now, while the merry-making was at its height, there suddenly entered a tall, old man with hat slouched over his eyes and huge grey cloak around his majestic shoulders.

Advancing to the Branstock, he drew his sword, and plunged it to the very hilt in the great trunk.

Then, as the assembled guests gazed at him in awe-struck silence, he said: "Whoso draweth the sword from this stock shall have the same as a gift from me, and it shall give him victory in every battle."

There was something so attractive in the voice and mien of the speaker that all men sat chained to their seats, as in a dream. And none roused himself as the old man turned and passed through the hall and out of the door.

But as soon as Odin, for he it was, had vanished, all tongues were loosed and there arose a great hubbub. And the men of noblest rank went up one after another to the Branstock and pulled and tugged and strained at the goodly sword. First of all went up King Siggeir, but though he pulled till his eyes nearly started from his head, yet the sword moved not an inch.

Then Volsung put his hand to the sword, but it was not meant for him. Neither could the Volsung princes, who followed one by one, do aught to move it, until last of them came Sigmund, the youngest, and as soon as he grasped the hilt he pulled the weapon out of the trunk as if it had lain loose therein.

It was indeed a weapon worthy of the gods, and when Siggeir looked upon its shapely proportions his heart was fired with desire, and he offered to buy it from the youth at thrice its weight in gold.

But Sigmund answered: "Thou mightst have taken the sword as easily as I if it had been thy lot to wear it. But now it has fallen to me, thou shalt never have it, though thou dost offer all the gold thou hast."

And thus began the fatal quarrel between the race of Siggeir and the Volsungs, for at the words Siggeir's heart grew bitter against Sigmund; and he determined that, when the time was ripe, he would put an end to the Volsung race and take that sword to himself.

But outwardly Siggeir was all that was fair and gentle. And when he set sail with his bride to his own land, he begged King Volsung and his sons to visit him as soon as possible.

So, at an appointed time, King Volsung and his ten stalwart sons set off to the kingdom of Siggeir with three brave ships; and after a fair voyage they cast anchor late one eventide.

During the night, as they lay on their ships, thinking to land next morning, Signy, who had received tidings of their arrival, came in secret to her father and brothers and begged them not to go ashore, saying that her treacherous husband had laid an ambush for them, whence they could not escape alive. She bade them therefore return to their own land, and together, with a mighty army, come again to take revenge upon King Siggeir.

But the brave old Volsung shook his great white head, saying that never yet had he or his turned back before fire or sword or hurt--and he would not play the coward in his old age.

"A hundred fights have I fought," said he, "and ever I had the victory, nor shall it be said of me that I fled from a foe or prayed for peace."

Then Signy wept right sore, and prayed that she might stay with her kinsmen, and not return to her husband.

But this seemed not good in the eyes of Volsung, and he sent her back sadly to her home.

As soon as it was day, King Volsung went ashore with his folk, and all were fully armed. But that availed them little; for Siggeir fell upon them with a great army. The Volsungs were few in number, but they fought with desperate courage, and no fewer than eight times did they cut their way through their foes. They would have done so yet again, had not Volsung fallen in the midst of his folk, and his followers with him, save only his ten sons.

Then the princes were taken and led, fast bound, into the presence of Siggeir, who had watched the fight from afar; and when he had secured the sword of Odin he condemned the young men to die.

But Signy, wild with grief, besought her husband: "I will not pray thee to spare their lives, but let them be first set awhile in the forest, chained fast to a fallen oak; for there comes to me an old saying--_'Sweet to eye while eye can see.'_ I pray not for longer life for them, because well I know that my prayer will avail nothing."

At this Siggeir laughed an evil laugh: "Surely thou art mad," he said, "to wish that the suffering of thy brothers should be prolonged. I care not, however, for the more pain they have to bear the better shall I be pleased."

So the ten young men were chained to an oak in the woods with a heavy beam upon their feet, and Signy meantime was shut up in the palace under close watch, lest she should try to succour them.

Now it came to pass that at midnight there came up a great she-wolf out of the wild woods, and she fell upon one of the brothers and devoured him and went upon her way.

Next morning Signy sent a trusty servant to bring tidings of her brothers, and grievously she mourned when she heard that one was dead; for she feared that the same fate would overtake all.

Every morning she sent the man to the forest, and every morning he returned with the news that the she-wolf had eaten up another of the Volsung princes, until all save Sigmund were dead. Then Signy, in dire despair, bethought herself of a plan, and she sent the messenger with honey in his hand to her twin-brother, and bade him smear it over Sigmund's face and feet and a little of it in his mouth. And it was done as she commanded.

And that same night, as Sigmund sat alone in the wild woods, the she-wolf came up, according to her wont, and would have slain and eaten him like his brothers. But first she smelt the honey and began to lick his face all over, and finally thrust her tongue into his mouth.

Then Sigmund caught the she-wolf's tongue in his strong teeth and held fast to it; and she, in her pain and terror, set her feet against the beam and against the oak, and strained so mightily that beam and oak gave way, and the chain that bound the prince snapped in twain. And springing up, he killed the murderer of his brothers, that gaunt she-wolf, and ran through the wild woods a free man.

Now when Signy knew what had happened she was full of joy; and as her husband thought that all the Volsungs were dead, and so kept watch over her no longer, she was able to visit her brother where he lay hiding in secret. Together they built for him a hut underground in the wild woods, and they covered up the entrance with branches, moss, and leaves, so that it was quite hidden from sight. To this retreat Signy brought food and all things that were needed, and together in secret they made plans to revenge their father and his nine brave sons.

Now to Siggeir and Signy had been born two sons who, both in nature and in face, were exactly like their father. When the eldest was ten years of age, his mother sent him to Sigmund, that he might be trained by a Volsung to avenge the death of his grandfather.

Late at eventide he came to the earth-dwelling, and when Sigmund had welcomed the boy he bade him make ready the bread for their evening meal. "For I," said he, "must go seek firewood." And with these words he gave the meal bag into his hands and left the hut.

But he could see no trace of any bread making when he came back, so he asked if the food was ready.

"No," said the boy, "I dared not set hand in the meal sack, because I saw something move in the meal."

Then Sigmund knew that the boy had the heart of a mouse, and he sent him back to his mother.

The next winter Signy sent her second son to him, and Sigmund tested him in like manner. But he too showed his coward's heart, and was sent home again.

As time went on Signy had another son, whom she called Sinfiotli. He was tall and strong and fair of face, like unto the Volsungs; and before he was ten years of age, she sent him to Sigmund. But first she tested him herself by sewing his shirt to his skin and then suddenly snatching it off again, whereat the child did but laugh at her, saying: "Full little would a Volsung care for such a smart as that."

So the boy came to Sigmund, who bade him knead the meal while he went to fetch firewood.

This time the bread stood ready baked upon the hearth when he came back, whereupon he asked Sinfiotli if he had found nothing in the meal.

"Ay," said the boy, "I saw there was something living in the meal when I first began to knead it; but I have kneaded all together, both the meal and whatever was therein."

Then Sigmund gave a great laugh, and caught the boy in his arms, saying: "Naught wilt thou eat of this bread to-night, for thou hast kneaded up therewith the most deadly of serpents."

Though no sting from outside could harm Sinfiotli, he could neither eat nor drink venom and live. But Sigmund could eat of the bread, since no poison could harm him.

From that day the training of the lad became Sigmund's constant care, and he grudged no pains in the effort to make him worthy of a Volsung's teaching.

In his desire to make him hardy and daring beyond his years he took Sinfiotli with him on all his expeditions. Together they lived the wild life of outlaws, faring far and wide through the woods, and slaying men for their wealth. And the boy forgot his father and thought as a Volsung.

Now it befell that on a day, as they roamed through the woods, they came upon a certain house, wherein lay two men, with great gold rings on wrists and ankles, fast asleep. Over their heads hung the skins of two grey wolves, and by this Sigmund knew that they were king's sons who had been turned into were-wolves. Every tenth night would they come out of their wolf skins and return to them again at dawn.

Then did Sigmund and Sinfiotli, half in jest, put on the wolf skins while the men lay asleep; and having done this they could in nowise rid themselves of them till the appointed time. They rushed forth howling as wolves howl, though each knew the meaning of the sound, and they lay out in the wild woods all that night.

Next morning each prepared to go his separate way to seek food, and first they made a compact that they would risk the attack of seven men; but if more set upon them, each would howl for the other in wolfish wise.

"For thou art young and over-bold," said Sigmund, "and men will think well of themselves when they take thee."

Then each went his way, but before Sigmund had gone far he was attacked by a band of eight men. Then he gave forth the long wolf howl, and Sinfiotli came and slew them all, and returned his way again.

A few hours later eleven men met Sinfiotli in the woods and tried to kill him, but he fought them in such wise that they were all slain. Then, being weary, he crawled under an oak to take his rest. Soon came Sigmund, and seeing the dead men lying on the ground, he asked: "Why didst thou not call for help?"

But Sinfiotli only yawned and said: "I was loth to call on thee to help me slay so few as eleven men."

These words so offended Sigmund that he sprang upon Sinfiotli and bit him in the throat so sorely that he lay dead upon the ground.

Then was Sigmund heavy at heart, for he had grown to love the boy, and he cursed the wolf skin, from which he could not get free. With much difficulty, however, he succeeded in dragging the body to the hut, where he crouched beside it, howling for grief.

Now, as he sat, he saw two weasels come from behind a tree, and one bit the other in the throat, so that it lay to all appearance dead upon the ground. Then the first weasel ran into a thicket and brought a leaf in its mouth and laid it upon the wound; and immediately its companion sprang up and scampered off, perfectly cured. A moment later a raven, in his flight overhead, dropped a leaf of the same kind at Sigmund's feet.

Then he knew that Odin had sent to his aid, and he took the leaf and drew it over Sinfiotli's hurt, and the lad sprang up quite well and strong again.

So they lay down together in their earth-house till the time came to put off their wolf skins; and then they burnt them with fire and prayed the Asa folk to let no further harm come through the spell of the evil shapes.

Now when Sinfiotli was grown to manhood, Sigmund having tried him fairly and found him of true Volsung blood, plotted with him to avenge his kinsmen and exact the penalty from King Siggeir. Wherefore, on a certain day they left the earth-house and came to the palace of the king; and they gained, unperceived, a lurking-place amongst the casks of ale which were stacked in the entrance to the hall.

Now Signy and the king were sitting in the hall, and two of their younger children were trundling a golden ball along the floor. Suddenly a golden ring came off the ball and rolled behind the casks of ale, and the little ones ran after it and discovered the two big, grim men with helmets on their heads and swords in their hands.

Screaming with fright the children rushed to their father with news of what they had seen.

Then the king summoned his warriors, and a rush was made to where Sigmund and Sinfiotli lay hidden. They were quickly surrounded; and though they fought desperately, they were taken and fast bound.

That night the king pondered what would be the worst and most lingering death he could mete out to them; and when morning came he ordered a great hollow mound of stones and turf to be made, with a large flat stone, extending from wall to wall, in the midst; and he ordered the prisoners to be buried alive, one on each side of this stone, so that they could hear each other speak but might in nowise pass through to one another.

Now, while the servants were closing in the mound, came Signy along with a bundle of straw in her arms, and this she cast down to Sinfiotli, bidding the men say nothing of this to the king; and they promised, and set the topmost stones, and left the two to die.

Presently Sinfiotli called to Sigmund and said: "I at anyrate shall not starve for awhile, for the queen has thrown in a lump of swine's flesh wrapped in straw."

A moment later he gave a shout of joy, for hidden in the meat he found the magic sword of Sigmund, which he knew by the hilt, for Sigmund had often talked to him of this weapon.

He now drove the point with all his strength into the big stone, and it passed quite through, so that Sigmund caught the point and pulled to and fro; and in this wise they sawed right through that mighty stone, and stood together in the mound. But they stayed not there, for with that good sword they soon cut their way through stones and iron and turf.

Then, very softly, they crept to the king's hall where all men slept, and set wood around it; and having secured the door they set fire to the wood.

It was not long ere the folk within were awakened by the smoke and flames, and the king cried out: "Who kindled this fire in which I burn?"

"I," replied Sigmund, "with Sinfiotli, my sister's son, that you may know well that all the Volsungs are not yet dead."

Then he entreated his sister to come out into a place of safety; but she would not. "Merrily now will I die with King Siggeir, though I was not merry to wed him," said she, and she perished in the fire with her husband and his men.

Sigmund and Sinfiotli now gathered together folk and ships and returned to the land of the Volsungs, where they were warmly welcomed.

And thus ended the great feud between the Volsungs and the Goths.