The Story of Siegfried Read online

  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 great block of iron was cleft in two; but the bright blade wasno whit dulled by the stroke, and the line of light which marked theedge was brighter than before.

  Then to the flowing brook they went; and a great pack of wool, thefleeces of ten sheep, was brought, and thrown upon the swirling water.As the stream bore the bundle downwards, Mimer held the sword in itsway. And the whole was divided as easily and as clean as the woollenball or the slender 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, Mimer theOld, shall still be called the wisest and greatest of smiths."

  And he sent word at once to Amilias, in Burgundy-land, to meet him ona day, and settle forever the question as to which of the two should bethe master, 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 towards 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 between KingSiegmund'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. On the one side werethe wise old Siegmund and his gentle queen, and their train of knightsand courtiers and fair ladies. On the other side were the threeBurgundian kings, Gunther, Gernot, and Giselher, and a mighty retinue ofwarriors, led by grim old Hagen, the uncle of the kings, and the wariestchief in all Rhineland.

  When every thing was in readiness for the contest, Amilias, clad in hisboasted war-coat, went up to the top of the hill, and sat upon a greatrock, and waited for Mimer's coming. As he sat there, he looked, to thepeople below, like some great castle-tower; for he was almost a giantin size, and his coat of mail, so skilfully wrought, was so hugethat twenty men of common mould might have found shelter, or hiddenthemselves, within it. As the smith Mimer, so dwarfish in stature,toiled up the steep hillside, Amilias smiled to see him; for he feltno fear of the slender, gleaming blade that was to try the metal ofhis war-coat. And already a shout of expectant triumph went up from thethroats of the Burgundian hosts, so sure were they of their champion'ssuccess.

  But Mimer's friends waited in breathless silence, hoping, and yetfearing. Only King Siegmund whispered to his queen, and said, "Knowledgeis stronger than brute force. The smallest dwarf who has drunk from thewell of the Knowing One may safely meet the stoutest 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. The smithpaused a moment to take breath, and as he stood by the side of hisfoe 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 beaming blade in the air, and for a moment thelightning seemed to play around his head. The muscles on his short,brawny arms, stood out like great ropes; and then Balmung, descending,cleft the air from right to left. The waiting lookers-on in the plainbelow thought to hear the noise of clashing steel; but they listened invain, for no sound came to their ears, save a sharp hiss like that whichred-hot iron gives when plunged into a tank of cold water. The hugeAmilias sat unmoved, with his arms still folded upon his breast; but thesmile had 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 answered theupstart.

  "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 head and the still folded arms,and they rolled with thundering noise to the foot of the hill, and fellwith a fearful splash into the deep waters of the river; and there,fathoms down, they may even now be seen, when the water is clear, lyinglike great gray rocks among the sand and gravel below. The rest of thebody, with the armor which incased it, still sat upright in its place;and to this day travellers sailing down the river are shown on moonlitevenings the luckless armor of Amilias on the high hill-top. In the dim,uncertain light, one easily fancies it to be the ivy covered ruins ofsome 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 glad cheersand shouts of joy. But the Burgundians, baffled, and feeling vexed,turned silently homeward, nor cast a single look back to the scene oftheir disappointment and their ill-fated champion's defeat.

  And 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.

  But after a while it was whispered around that not Mimer, but one of hispupils, had forged the sword. And, when the master was asked what truththere was in this story, his eyes twinkled, and the corners of his mouthtwitched strangely, and he made no answer. But Veliant, the foreman ofthe smithy, and the greatest of boasters said, "It was I who forged thefire-edge of the blade Balmung." And, although none denied the truth ofwhat he said, but few who knew what sort of a man he was believed hisstory. And this is the reason, my children, that, in the ancient songsand stories which tell of this wondrous sword, it is said by most thatMimer, and by a few that Veliant, forged its blade. But I prefer tobelieve that it was made by Siegfried, the hero who afterwards wieldedit in so many adventures. [EN#3] Be this as it may, however, blind hateand jealousy were from this time uppermost in the coarse and selfishmind of Veliant; and he sought how he might drive the lad away from thesmithy in disgrace. "This boy has done what no one else could do," saidhe. "He may yet do greater deeds, and set himself up as the master smithof the world, and then we shall all have to humble ourselves before himas his underlings and thralls."

  And he nursed this thought, and brooded over the hatred which he felttowards the blameless boy; but he did not dare to harm him, for fear oftheir master, Mimer. And Siegfried busied himself at his forge, wherethe sparks flew as briskly and as merrily as ever before, and hisbellows roared from early morning till late at evening. Nor did theforeman's unkindness trouble him for a moment, for he knew that themaster's heart was warm towards him.

  Oftentimes, when the day's work was done, Siegfried sat with Mimer bythe glowing light of the furnace-fire, and listened to the sweet taleswhich the master told of the deeds of the early days, when the worldwas young, and the dwarf-folk and the giants had a name and a place uponearth. And one night, as they thus sat, the master talked of Odin theAll-Father, and of the gods who dwell with him in Asgard, and of thepuny men-folk whom they protect and befriend, until his words grew fullof bitterness, and his soul of a fierce longing for something he darednot name. And the lad's heart was stirred with a strange uneasiness, andhe said,--

  "Tell me, I pray, dear master, something about my own kin, my father'sfathers,--those mighty kings, who, I have heard said, were the bravestand best of men."

  Then the smith seemed pleased again. And his eyes grew brighter, andlost their far-away look; and a smile played among the wrinkles of hisswarthy face, as he tol
d a tale of old King Volsung and of the deeds ofthe Volsung kings:--

  "Long years ago, before the evil days had dawned, King Volsung ruledover all the land which lies between the sea and the country of theGoths. The days were golden; and the good Frey dropped peace and plentyeverywhere, and men went in and out and feared no wrong. King Volsunghad a dwelling in the midst of fertile fields and fruitful gardens.Fairer than any dream was that dwelling. The roof was thatched withgold, and red turrets and towers rose above. The great feast-hall waslong and high, and its walls were hung with sun-bright shields; and thedoor-nails were of silver. In the middle of the hall stood the pride ofthe Volsungs,--a tree whose blossoms filled the air with fragrance, andwhose green branches, thrusting themselves through the ceiling, coveredthe roof with fair foliage. It was Odin's tree, and King Volsung hadplanted it there with his own hands.

  "On a day in winter King Volsung held a great feast in his hall in honorof Siggeir, the King of the Goths, who was his guest. And the firesblazed bright in the broad chimneys, and music and mirth went round. Butin the midst of the merry-making the guests were startled by a suddenpeal of thunder, which seemed to come from the cloudless sky, and whichmade the shields upon the walls rattle and ring. In wonder they lookedaround. A strange man stood in the doorway, and laughed, but said not aword. And they noticed that he wore no shoes upon his feet, but thata cloud-gray cloak was thrown over his shoulders, and a blue hood wasdrawn down over his head. His face was half-hidden by a heavy beard; andhe had but one eye, which twinkled and glowed like a burning coal. Andall the guests sat moveless in their seats, so awed were they in thepresence of him who stood at the door; for they knew that he was noneother than Odin the All-Father, the king of gods and men. He spoke nota word, but straight into the hall he strode, and he paused not untilhe stood beneath the blossoming branches of the tree. Then, forth frombeneath his cloud-gray cloak, he drew a gleaming sword, and struck theblade deep into the wood,--so deep that nothing but the hilt was leftin sight. And, turning to the awe-struck guests, he said, 'A bladeof mighty worth have I hidden in this tree. Never have the earth-folkwrought better steel, nor has any man ever wielded a more trusty sword.Whoever there is among you brave enough and strong enough to draw itforth from the wood, he shall have it as a gift from Odin.' Then slowlyto the door he strode again, and no one saw him any more.

  "And after he had gone, the Volsungs and their guests sat a long timesilent, fearing to stir, lest the vision should prove a dream. But atlast the old king arose, and cried, 'Come, guests and kinsmen, and setyour hands to the ruddy hilt! Odin's gift stays, waiting for its fatedowner. Let us see which one of you is the favored of the All-Father.'First Siggeir, the King of the Goths, and his earls, the Volsungs'guests, tried their hands. But the blade stuck fast; and the stoutestman among them failed to move it. Then King Volsung, laughing, seizedthe hilt, and drew with all his strength; but the sword held still inthe wood of Odin's tree. And one by one the nine sons of Volsung tuggedand strained in vain; and each was greeted with shouts and laughter, as,ashamed and beaten, he wended to his seat again. Then, at last, Sigmund,the youngest son, stood up, and laid his hand upon the ruddy hilt,scarce thinking to try what all had failed to do. When, lo! the bladecame out of the tree as if therein it had all along lain loose. AndSigmund raised it high over his head, and shook it, and the bright flamethat leaped from its edge lit up the hall like the lightning's gleaming;and the Volsungs and their guests rent the air with cheers and shouts ofgladness. For no one among all the men of the mid-world was more worthyof Odin's gift than young Sigmund the brave."

  But the rest of Mimer's story would be too long to tell you now; for heand his young apprentice sat for hours by the dying coals, and talked ofSiegfried's kinfolk,--the Volsung kings of old. And he told how Siggeir,the Goth king, was wedded to Signy the fair, the only daughter ofVolsung, and the pride of the old king's heart; and how he carriedher with him to his home in the land of the Goths; and how he covetedSigmund's sword, and plotted to gain it by guile; and how, throughpresence of friendship, he invited the Volsung kings to visit him inGothland, as the guests of himself and Signy; and how he betrayed andslew them, save Sigmund alone, who escaped, and for long years lived anoutlaw in the land of his treacherous foe. And then he told how Sigmundafterwards came back to his own country of the Volsungs; and how hispeople welcomed him, and he became a mighty king, such as the world hadnever known before; and how, when he had grown old, and full of yearsand honors, he went out with his earls and fighting-men to battleagainst the hosts of King Lyngi the Mighty; and how, in the midst of thefight, when his sword had hewn down numbers of the foe, and the end ofthe strife and victory seemed near, an old man, one eyed and bearded,and wearing a cloud-gray cloak, stood up before him in the din, andhis sword was broken in pieces, and he fell dead on the heap of theslain.[EN#4] And, when Mimer had finished his tale, his dark face seemedto grow darker, and his twinkling eyes grew brighter, as he cried out ina tone of despair and hopeless yearning,--

  "Oh, past are those days of old and the worthy deeds of the brave!And these are the days of the home-stayers,--of the wise, butfeeble-hearted. Yet the Norns have spoken; and it must be that anotherhero shall arise of the Volsung blood, and he shall restore the name andthe fame of his kin of the early days. And he shall be my bane; and inhim shall the race of heroes have an end."[EN#7]

  Siegfried's heart was strangely stirred within him as he hearkened tothis story of ancient times and to the fateful words of the master,and for a long time he sat in silent thought; and neither he nor Mimermoved, or spoke again, until the darkness of the night had begun tofade, and the gray light of morning to steal into the smithy. Then, asif moved by a sudden impulse, he turned to the master, and said,--

  "You speak of the Norns, dear master, and of their foretelling; butyour words are vague, and their meaning very broad. When shall that herocome? and who shall he be? and what deeds shall be his doing?"

  "Alas!" answered Mimer, "I know not, save that he shall be of theVolsung race, and that my fate is linked with his."

  "And why do you not know?" returned Siegfried. "Are you not that oldMimer, in whom it is said the garnered wisdom of the world is stored? Isthere not truth in the old story that even Odin pawned one of hiseyes for a single draught from your fountain of knowledge? And isthe possessor of so much wisdom unable to look into the future withclearness and certainty?"

  "Alas!" answered Mimer again, and his words came hard and slow, "Iam not that Mimer, of whom old stories tell, who gave wisdom to theAll-Father in exchange for an eye. He is one of the giants, and he stillwatches his fountain in far-off Jotunheim.[EN#2] I claim kinshipwith the dwarfs, and am sometimes known as an elf, sometimes as awood-sprite. Men have called me Mimer because of my wisdom and skill,and the learning which I impart to my pupils. Could I but drink from thefountain of the real Mimer, then the wisdom of the world would in truthbe mine, and the secrets of the future would be no longer hidden. But Imust wait, as I have long waited, for the day and the deed and the doomthat the Norns have foretold."

  And the old strange look of longing came again into his eyes, and thewrinkles on his swarthy face seemed to deepen with agony, as he arose,and left the smithy. And Siegfried sat alone before the smoulderingfire, and pondered upon what he had heard.

  Adventure II. Greyfell.

  Many were the pleasant days that Siegfried spent in Mimer's smokysmithy; and if he ever thought of his father's stately dwelling, or ofthe life of ease which he might have enjoyed within its halls, he neverby word or deed showed signs of discontent. For Mimer taught him all thesecrets of his craft and all the lore of the wise men. To beat hotiron, to shape the fire-edged sword, to smithy war-coats, to fashion theslender bracelet of gold and jewels,--all this he had already learned.But there were many other things to know, and these the wise mastershowed him. He told him how to carve the mystic runes which speak tothe knowing ones with silent, unseen tongues; he told him of the men ofother lands, and taught him their strange speech; he showed
him how totouch the harp-strings, and bring forth bewitching music: and the heartof Siegfried waxed very wise, while his body grew wondrous strong. Andthe master loved his pupil dearly.

  But the twelve apprentices grew more jealous day by day, and when Mimerwas away they taunted Siegfried with cruel jests, and sought by harshthreats to drive him from the smithy; but the lad only smiled, and madethe old shop ring again with the music from his anvil. On a day whenMimer had gone on a journey, Veliant, the foreman, so far forgot himselfas to strike the boy. For a moment Siegfried gazed at him with witheringscorn; then he swung his hammer high in air, and brought it swiftlydown, not upon the head of Veliant, who was trembling with expectantfear, but upon the foreman's anvil. The great block of iron was shiveredby the blow, and flew into a thousand pieces. Then, turning againtowards the thoroughly frightened foreman, Siegfried said, while angrylightning-flashes darted from his eyes,--

  "What if I were to strike you thus?"

  Veliant sank upon the ground, and begged for mercy.

  "You are safe," said Siegfried, walking away. "I would scorn to harm abeing like you!"

  The apprentices were struck dumb with amazement and fear; and whenSiegfried had returned to his anvil they one by one dropped theirhammers, and stole away from the smithy. In a secret place not far fromthe shop, they met together, to plot some means by which they might ridthemselves of him whom they both hated and feared.