The Wayland-Dietrich Saga
How Sigurd learnt who slew his Father, and of the
forging of Sword Balmung. (1)
He toiled with little rest till it was made.
On the eleventh morning Sigurd sprang
On Grani's back, and rode at early dawn
Over the river, crossing by the ford,
To seek Smith Regin........As he reached the door
Regin threw down his smith's work hurriedly,
And came forth with a sword in his right hand,
Which he put silently in Sigurd's grasp,
Who took it from him smiling......... "This is then
Thy forging, Regin!" Leaping from his horse
He strode within the smithy, laughing said,
"I trust this sword is well forged, Master mine,
That it will cut through iron and hard steel,
Now will I prove it.".........Mightily he struck
The blade down on the anvil and the sword
Sprang into splinters..........Sigurd tossed away
The hilt thereof........Laughing yet more he spake,
"Forgive me a harder blade, King Hjalprek's Smith!"
Then Regin softly spake, "Stay thou the night
Here in my Smithy. I will forge for thee
A better sword, thyself shalt help thereat".........
Said Sigurd, "Nay, Smith Regin, here with thee
I may not tarry overnight, for know,
Hjalprek the King would miss me from his Hall,
Where on the High Seat I sit by his side.......
I'll not neglect my duty......But forge thou
A sword, the best thou canst, to cut through steel".........
So went he on his way, and Regin took
The iron that he had, and in the flame
He laid the metal........Twenty days and nights
He toiled nor rested, then, when Sigurd came
On the appointed morning he appeared,
Bearing a new-forged sword, a harder one.......
"Welcome, young Sigmund's son, thy sword is forged.
This one should please thee well; if mood and heart
Are wanting not, for war art thou now dight;
O fine and true this sword that I hve forged!........
And, by my father's head," quoth the proud Smith,
"Hard hadst thou found it to have forged such blade.....
Prove it, my son." Young Sigurd took the sword,
Scanning it carefully, then smote he hard.......
And lo! It flew in pieces as before.......
So mighty was his strength, so strong his arm.....
Save that instead of splintering it brake
In half against the anvil.......Sigurd stooped
And picked up the two halves.......His face was dark,
Moved was he to great wrath, nor laughed he more.
He flung the shards at Regin angrily;
They fell on the Smith's knee, who shook with fear,
E'en as a lily leaf stirred by the wind.
He took them in his hand, trembling yet more,
When Sigurd's threatening words fell on his ear;
E'en like a lily's stem snapped by the storm,
Low drooped his head, as crouching he stooped down.......
"Like the forerunners of thy race art thou,
And false as they meseems.......Thou dost deserve
To meet death at my hands, O Hreidmar's son,
If in thy weapon-craft thou failst me thus.........
Forge yet another sword, but an it be
Forged like this broken rubbish, Regin, know!
Thy life shall be in danger through my wrath."
Quoth the pale Smith, "Aye, thou shalt have the sword".......
He raised his shaking head and stared at him,
Collecting his strayed wits........ "Then, Sigmund's son,
Remember thou thy solemn promise made;
When thou dost get the blade thy soul desires,
The heart from out the Worm I ask of thee......
That is thy work, young Sigurd.......As for me,
I will take thought.......Nay, glower not on me.....
Thy sword shall soon be forged......But as my hire
The heart from out the Dragon I require".......
Quoth Sigurd, "Forge the sword, then will I slay
An hundred dragons".......Regin slowly said,
Still seeking to gain time, for sore adread
Was the sly crafty Smith, "First must we go
To counsel take with Mimer in the wood......
Bring ye the fragments of thy Father's sword,
That some folks say was Odin's gift to him......
So Mimer bid thee, as I've heard thee tell.......
Thus, and thus only, shall thy sword be forged."
Sigurd (2) turned on his heel, and riding thence
Came to his Mother's house. He greeted her,
And she was fain of him. In loving wise
She kissed her son, and bade the maids bring wine;
So sat they there together and did drink
And talk awhile......But Sigurd moody seemed,
Dark had his face grown and he sat there mute,
Then Sieg'lind said, "What ails thee now, my son?
That first thy cheeks turn red, then white as death,
And now thy brow is frowning dark as earth,
And heavy are thy looks.......What ails thee, son?"
Said he, and rising, from his lofty height
Looked down upon his Mother sitting there,
"Hear now, my most dear Mother, what ails me,
Then tell me all the truth. For long time now
Have I held peace, though it was pain and grief......
When on the jousting ground I went to play,
Or practice fighting, red shield in my hand,
Learning the art of war as warriors should,
Then other lads have often taunted me....
Aye, and grown men as well, because my Sire
Lay dead and unavenged, and no one cared
To take his quarrel up.......One day in wrath
I smote my young tormentors, felling them
With a great branch I hastily tore off
The giant oak that stands in the war-field........
Low rolled the boys, and angry lads were they......
One of them cried out, spluttering in his rage,
"More seemly were it, Sigmund's son, that thou
Revenge thy father, than thy comrades slay."
He spake the truth........The lads meant me to harm,
For sure, in most things we are right good friends.......
So at his word I flung mine arms away,
Dropped my red shield, my byrnie from me drew
And all my war-gear......I'd no heart to play
At mimic battles in the jousting field........
Since then I have seen Regin, the King's Smith......
I asked him who it was my father slew,
But he bade me ask thee, my Mother dear......
Wilt tell me now the truth? What are the names
Of those who slew King Sigmund? How fell he?"
She rose and laid her hand on his strong arm,
"No truer can I tell thee, son, than this......
Thy father's slayers were King Hunding's sons.
In a great battle fell he face to foe........
Sit down and listen......I will tell thee all."
When she had ended, while his face yet glowed
To hear of his Sire's deeds, she sadly said,
"As long as thou shalt live I see not how
Thou shalt get weregeld for thy father's death,
Nor yet revenge his fall. They are too strong,
And Alf my husband has no mind to take
Thy duty on himself.......Thou art too young,
Nor couldst thou fight them all whate'er thine age"......
Quoth Sigurd fiercely, yet with laugh withal,
"Oft a young hound grows in his jaws sharp fangs......
Give me the means and I will seek these men,
My gallant father's death shall be avenged.
Dost know aught of his sword, sweet Mother mine?
An I had Gram, O well content were I!
Have I heard truly that my father gave
His broken sword into thy hands to guard?"
Quoth she and sighed, "True is that tale, my son."
Quoth he, "Then give it me! It shall be mine"........
She rose and went unto a goodly chest
That was of gold and very richly chased.
"Here seest thou the wargear of thy Sire,
In which he fought his last fight and was slain......
His body we ne'er found, but on the field
Alf's men his harness spied and brought away.
Yet think I not that foes his body spoiled;
I know that Odin claimed his noble soul,
Perchance his mortal frame......Ah! Who can say?".......
She oped the chest wherein lay stored much gold
And gear of all kinds; taking out therefrom
A blood-stained mail shirt, with her eyes aflame,
She flung it at his breast as he stood there,
With a quick shudder......As he caught the gear,
She stooping drew, with reverent jealous care,
The shards of Sigmund's sword from out the chest,
And laid them in the hands of her young son:
"These fragments thy dear father gave me, child,
Who loved me well, and I, how I loved him!
These pieces can by a skilled smith be made
Once more a splendid sword......If thou dost seek
Regin the Smith, he knows right well his craft;
But little shalt thou trust him. Rather go
To him who in thy childhood fostered thee,
Mimer, the mighty craftsman; yet with him
Be also on thy guard, for wily folk
Are both the brothers, loving not their kind.
Now go forth, son, and prosper......Well I see
Thou art predestined to a glorious life,
Nor shalt thou lose thine honour in thy death,
However short thy span of life may be."
Then Sigurd sought the Smith and he seemed wroth,
Angry and sullen looked he, yet 'twas plain
He dreaded Sigurd's mood.......The twain fared forth......
Both had King Hjalprek's leave, unchallenged they
Passed through the gates of Busilburgh his town.
Then o'er the Sound they sailed until they came
Unto the coast, thence sought the Swabian-wald.
Now Mimer (3) worked within his Forge that day,
But Eckebrecht the Smith outside the door
Was chopping wood to kindle the Forge fire;
He saw where Sigurd came, and ran within,
Crying unto his master, "Ah! Lord, see
Where Sigurd cometh home. On his right hand
Doth Regin ride, thy brother.......and the twain
Look grim of mood and fierce.......I fear they come
To wreak their will upon us all to-day.......
Though we are twelve but little that avails,
Were we an hundred it were all the same,
So mighty is this Sigurd and so strong,
And Regin's spells are evil"..........Then he fled,
And with him all his comrades, to the wood;
There hid themselves in dread. But Mimer came,
Flinging his smith's gear down in angry haste,
Without the Smithy, greeting fair his guests.
Though he was wroth, he bade them come within;
"What would ye now of me, O Sigmund's son?"
Quoth Sigurd, "Greetings, Foster-father mine.
Here bring I Sigmund's sword that is called Gram.
Keep now thy word and from the fragments forge
A sword for me, the best in all the world"..........
Mimer went first to Regin, and these twain
Took counsel for a while, then Mimer came
Unto his forge, and toiled for thirty days,
Smelting the fragments in the glowing flame.......
But he was wroth and muttered as he toiled........
Regin the bellows blew and stoked the fire.
Sigurd watched them the while, marking all well;
And very curious the lad appeared
As to the forging........Then, when all was done,
Mimer drew forth the brightly gleaming blade
From out the oven, and to those around......
The Smith's apprentices, now all returned.......
Who shamefaced watched their Master, it appeared
As though a flame ran flickering o'er the edge
Of the great sword, which scintillated fire.
Quoth Mimer, "Take thy sword....... 'Twill serve thee well,
And far afield canst fare with this good blade,
So be thou lackst not mood.......If it now fail,
Then know I naught of Smith's craft, Sigmund's son."
Sigurd heaved up the sword and struck a blow
So mightily that now the anvil split
And break in twain; aye! E'en the bed of it
Unto the stock was cloven, but the sword
Brake not, nor splintered. Sigurd cried, o'erjoyed,
"This is in truth a sword for Odin's hand!
Well hast thou forged it, Mimer, Master-Smith."
So went he to the stream that is called Rhine,
And cast a flock of wool into the flood,
Holding the blade thereto.........And lo! its edge,
Where the wool come against it, sheered clean through
The wool as though 'twere water flowing past.
Then Sigurd praised Smith Mimer, well content.
Taking his leave, he marked not the grim smile
That lurked within the eyes of the Wood-Smith.
With Regin rode he through the Swabian-wald
Towards the coast, and ever as they went
Regin was urging, "Now fulfil thy word.......
Seek now the Dragon in his secret lair......
I helped thee to thy sword......Now do thy share."
Quoth Sigurd, "I will do as I have sworn......
But first another task have I on hand.....
Loud were the laughter of King Hunding's sons,
And justly would they mock, if I forgot
That they my father slew, and Eylimi
My grandsire robbed of life in the same day......
Aye, they would scorn me if I, nobly born,
Should more desire the ruddy golden rings,
Than to seek vengeance for my kinsmen slain."
Notes:
1. Völsunga Saga, ch. XV., Faroe Islands Ballad, Elder
Edda (Sigurtharkvitha II. 15), Sn. Edda (Skáldskaparmál XL.). [Back]
2. Faroe Islands Ballad ("Regin der Smied"). [Back]
3. Cf. Thidrek's Saga, ed. Bertelsen, ch. 272. Raszmann, ch. 167. [Back]
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