The Wayland-Dietrich Saga
How Nornaguest took service with Sigurd, Sigmund's son.
His golden harp, and whiles he softly sang......
"Now must I tell ye how I as a lad
Went south once on a time to the Frank's land.
I would see for myself what sort of man
Was Sigurd, Sigmund's son, and if were true
The tales I'd heard of his great worth and wit,
His splendid courage, his fair beauty too.
Naught happened noteworthy till I was come
Unto the Frankish land and met their King
Whose name was Hjalprek, which is Helferich, (1)
Who one time ruled o'er Windland and the South,
E'en to the borders of that flood called Rhine.
He had a great Court round him in those days,
And at that time was Sigurd, Sigmund's son,
Grandson of Völsung there. His mother's name
Was Hjordis, daughter of King Eylimi.
Now all men thought that Sigmund had been slain
In battle by King Hunding's sons. 'Twas long
Ere it was known that the sore-wounded King
Lived, though with memory lost........'Tis thought that he
Was from the carnage borne by Odin's self,
And to Valhalla ta'en a living man,
Then long years after came to earth again.......
Be that as it may be, ere it befell
That he returned again unto his own,
His young son Sigurd from the woodland wastes
Where he was fostered by Smith Mimer, came,
And as a youth he dwelt at Hjalprek's Court,
So with King Sigmund's other sons was reared......
Amongst these Sinfjotli had been one,
But he had died long syne by evil guile,
By step-dame poisoned ere yet in his prime......
Helgi another.....They surpassed most men
In strength and stature....Helgi Hunding slew,
Hence was he ever known as Hunding's bane.....
The third son's name was Hamund, but of these
Sigurd was far the greatest, outstripped all
His brethren, and was known to be in truth
The noblest of all warriors, and the best
Of all Lords who have ruled in heathen lands.
Nor was I long at Hjalprek's Court ere I, (2)
Like many others, service took with him,
The son of Sigmund: Sigurd Fafnir's bane,
As he was later called; in truth a Lord
Whom all men loved, because he was to all
Friendly and unassuming, and a man
Of a right kindly nature, hating none.
For many years I served young Sigmund's son.....
Nay, listen friends.....Nor look ye thus at me,
Shrugging incredulous shoulders.....Hearken ye,
And hear me patiently".....But murmurs rose
From Olaf's guardsmen. Well indeed might they
Question the statement, deeming old Guest lied.....
For it was long ago since Sigurd lived.....
Three hundred years at least......Then Olaf said,
"Peace there! my men, and let us hear his tale.
Strange things he promised us he would unfold,
And I would hear more on it.......Peace, I say!"
Said Guest, "It chanced one day that Sigurd rode (3)
With Hagen and King Gunther of the Rhine,
In friendly fashion o'er the lonely moor.
From Gneita Heath rode Sigurd on that day
That he had slain the dragon, and these came
To meet him, and with joy they brought him home,
Who at that time, at least, were his good friends.
Now I was minding horses that same day,
Sitting within the birch-wood......But a lad
Was I in those days, blithe enough my heart,
The warm dry summer weather I liked well;
My Lord was pleased with me, and what knew I
Of care or trouble as I lay and sang
There on the sun-kissed heather......Then saw I
Over the mire-pit ride the gallant Knights......
A fair sight and a pleasant, thought I then,
As I watched each man put his horse at it.......
First leapt King Gunther's horse and won across......
Gunther had measured well the jump......Then sprang
Hagen's steed after, clearing the great pool......
The last to leap was Sigurd's horse, and lo!
His Grani floundered in the muddy fen,
O'erburdened with the golden treasure won
From Fafnir's secret hoard, the dragon grim......
Grani stuck fast. Then plunged the noble beast,
Springing so wildly that he sudden burst
His saddle-girths asunder......Down had leapt
Sigurd from saddle when his horse was bogged,
And dragged hard at the bridle......The two Lords,
Hagen and Gunther, tugged, and Sigurd pulled
Harder than all the rest. He spake as vexed,
"Oft have I easily leapt o'er this pit
By murky night as well as in the day.....
What ails thee, Grani? Up, and out of this!"
So came the grey from out the quaking bog
And stood, head drooping, as though much ashamed.
Cried Sigurd loudly, "Where are all my swains?
Art thou there, Guest? Now welcome, lad o' mine!
A service I would ask, this mud and slime
Wash from my courser." .........I had running come
To aid my Lord, and seeing where there lay,
Shining in the black mud with brilliant gleam,
A golden buckle, I had picked it up
And handed it to Sigurd......But he said,
"Keep it, good lad, for rubbing down my horse.".....
So I washed Grani well......The breast of him,
His poitrail and his girths, quarters and tail,
And each long limb of him, thus made him clean....
See here an hair from out the tail of him,
That I pulled then in memory of that day.".......
Guest showed the hair and it was seven ells long,
It shone like silver in the pine-logs' gleam;
Then all King Olaf's men sat wondering;
And, said the King, "Well, well, .....I think, my man,
Thy tales are good, and thou shewst talent too.....
Tell us some more," and all there said the same.....
Said Olaf musing, "Yet it puzzles me
What thine age may be? How couldst thou have seen
These things ye tell of, which so long ago
Did happen in our land? Come, tell us more,
And make us know how such things came to be."
Quoth Guest, "I thought, Sire, thou wouldst want to hear
More of my tale, if I spake of the gold."
Said then King Olaf, "Certes, thou must tell,
And we will listen to thee, Nornaguest."
A short time sat the old man thinking, then,
He raised his head and said, "First will I tell
What sort of man was Sigurd, Sigmund's son,
Whom I thus served when I was but a youth,
First as his horse-boy, then as trusted Squire.
Brown hair had he and red-gold was its sheen, (4)
Both long and beautiful the great locks fell,
Short was his beard, and thick, and like his hair.
High-nosed was he, strong-boned, and broad his brow;
So keen and quick his glance, few men would dare
To gaze up 'neath his brows or meet his eyes.
Men said his skin was hard as wild boar's hide,
Or like tough horn that never weapon pierced.
Strong were his mighty shoulders, and so broad
That they the breadth of two men's did appear.
Of a great height his body, yet well made,
In seemly fashion well proportioned.
This was the measure of my young Lord's height......
When his great sword was girt about his waist.....
His sword full seven spans long.....then as he strode
Through rye-fields that had come to their full growth
The dew-shoe (5) of his sword just smote the ears
Of the upstanding crop......and, so it seemed,
Greater his strength in truth e'en than his growth.
Well knew he how to swing that sword of his,
To bend a bow, back stallion, and do all
That doth become a man......That did he well,
And shewed besides much gentle courtesy
And courtliness that he learnt in his youth.
He was a wise man also and foreknew
Many strange things that as yet had not chanced.
The speech of birds he knew and understood,
Whereby few things fell on him unawares.....
Yet, for all that, he foresaw not his death......
Or, if he did, he ne'er spake word of it......
In council cool and bold was he, and well
Liked he to hold wise converse with his friends.
Outspoken was he, and well used to speech;
Nor might he speak of aught, but ere he'd done
It seemed to those who heard him that in truth
No otherwise could things be than he said.
His pleasure was it to give help and aid
To his own friends and kinsfolk, and besides
Himself in someway in great deeds to prove.
Gems and goods took he from his enemies
To give his friends, for he was generous.
Never his brave heart failed him, ne'er in life
Was he adread of aught, my brave young Lord!
An ye would know the arms that Sigurd bare
In after years, then hearken heedfully......
His many-folded shield was fashioned thus:
O'erlaid with bright red gold, and limned thereon
A fearful dragon, all dark brown above,
But a fair red beneath, above displayed
A golden crown, (6) and with the drake impaled
A snow-white falcon (7) chained. In this fair wise
Helm, banner, saddle, surcoat, blazoned all
Appeared. Thus might men know without a doubt
What hero their eyes saw when he rode out.
Right famous was he after he had slain
The mighty Dragon, that was Fafnir called
By the Varangians; for this reason he
Had all his weapons gold-decked and adorned
As I have told ye........Ah! my first dear Lord
Was far above most men in his high mood,
His courtesy and courtliness. His name
Was ever on men's tongues from Northern lands
E'en to the Grecian Seas, and shall be known
And sung, it seems to me, while the world lasts......
Yet greater e'en than he was him I served
In later years......King Dietrich, Lord of Bern.......
Of him this tale is told, an ye will hear.
Notes:
1. Cf. Völsunga Saga, ch. XIII. [Back]
2. Cf. Nornagest Saga, ch. IV. [Back]
3. Faroe Islands Ballads. [Back]
4. Thidrek's Saga, ch. 166, and Völsunga Saga, ch. 22. [Back]
5. tip. [Back]
6. Biterulf 9827. 10836. [Back]
7. Nibelungenlied 412. [Back]
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