| ||
Home | Site Index | Heithinn Idea Contest | | ||
The Wayland-Dietrich Saga
The third day came the brothers from the wood, Back over Glisten Heath they singing came, Sailed down the loch and landed, just as dawn Flooded the western hills with opal light. Faint rose and gold the distant fjord gleamed As the mist rose a moment, then closed in. The dale was empty save for a few sheep That nibbled the short turf ....... Not yet the kine Had been turned out to graze ....... The silence such That from the sea the whispering of the surf Amongst the rocks and shingles could be heard, And booming of the waves that roaring went Through the sea-passages and labyrinths That honeycombed the might basalt rocks. A mist hung o'er the fjord still ....... The sun Had scarcely pierced its grey and ghostly film ...... Quoth Finn, and broke the silence with a laugh, "Our lazy wives sleep late, not yet have they Turned out the kine to pasture ...... and our steeds Stand yet in stall ...... What ails the women then?" Said Egil, "Faith! I trust my Olrun wakes ...... I have a shrewd and biting hunger, lads, Fain am I of her oat-cakes and hot broth, And a broiled bear-steak would not come amiss." Wayland said naught, but inwardly he smiled, He knew that Elfwhite had prepared for him ...... Soon would he feel her warm arms round his neck, Soon would his Iran running call to him...... Weary the wayworn hunters, (1) glad were they To reach their homes........ But why stood the doors wide? Why came no answer to their long-drawn hail? They went within, to find their houses bare ...... No fire on hearth, no voice to welcome them ...... Save the loud lowing of the pent-up kine, And whining of the watch-dogs. None was there ....... No sign of wife or child ........ In wild despair Out rushed the Archer Egil, out rushed Finn, They looked all round, then rushed again within, And out once more. The Archer scanned the sky, And Finn ran to the beach; but all in vain, They called, and Echo mocked them merrily. Said Egil in fierce wrath, "Our wives have fled, And of their own free will. This doth befall Those who wed Valkyries ....... Thus are we sold, And by those Swan-women have been betrayed." Said Finn, "We should have clipped their wings ere this, Or ta'en their swan-plumes from them and their rings ...... Their cursed rings ...... Alas! My Swanwhite, where Shall I now find thee? ....... Wayland, Wayland, come! We must go seek the truants instantly." But Wayland sat within his empty house, Nor would he stir without........ His sunken head Hung low upon his breast, his brawny arms Had fallen by his sides ...... The huge white bear, With skin as spotless as new fallen snow, That he had brought his love, lay at his feet; His unstrung bow, his mighty ashen spear Were tumbled down before him ....... A deep groan Burst from his labouring breast, his hidden face His brothers could not see ...... In vain they called, In vain they spake and urged him to come forth And counsel take with them. He answered naught, Save once ....... Said he in a strange voice that they Scarce knew for Wayland's, "Go your ways ..... I mine ..... Here is no home, all's lost ....... Had I but known And trusted her this had not chanced ....... For she Would have come back if I had given her That she desired ...... E'en now she may return And bring our little son ..... I will wait here, Lest I should miss her I will not go forth ...... Maybe ere nightfall they'll come home again." But Egil and Slagfeder hastily Bade him farewell, sore grieving went they both. Egil on snow-shoes fared east through Mirkwood, And by the bridle he grey Schemming led, Which Wayland lent him to bear all his gear At his request, nor grudged him his good horse, For he would be alone at any cost. Finn hoisted sail and fared far out to sea, And southwards went he. Far and wide they searched, Yet long was it ere they could tidings learn Of their fair truants ....... Wayland stayed at home. Lonely dwelt he in Wolfsdale, and the time Hung long upon his hands. At his smith's work He toiled each day, and found some slight relief From his heart's sorrow. Good red gold he forged On his stone anvil....... Many other things, In all such metals as a smith doth use, He made with skill and ever grew his fame. On linden bast he slung his golden rings, And every night he counted them anew By force of habit, a long weary task, Hoping that some day his lost Elfin wife Would come to take her ring ........ He longed for her, The aching void she left was ill to bear, Her love he wanted....... Her sweet company ....... His little lad he missed, for Wayland's heart At that time was still kindly, and his mood Was not so fell and grim as folk have deemed. Nithad about this time heard from his spies (2) That Wayland lonely sat in Wolfsdale. He Made up his mind at once. In haste rode forth With a well-chosen band the Niaring's Lord, And come to Wolfsdale after seven days On the eighth night. Their byrnies were of steel, Well studded all ....... Flashed their bright shining shields White 'neath the waning moon, as through Mirkwood They came a-riding and passed down the glen. At the house-gable lighted down the men From out their saddles ...... Softly, silently, Crept they towards the door ...... It was unbarred, And they passed in forthwith and up the hall ....... No hall in truth, naught but a peasant's room, For such it seemed to them. None found they there ..... Wayland had gone a-hunting........ Round the hut With keen eyes looked King Nithad cautiously, While his men searched the smithy. Naught found they Of tools, or gear, or metal work, for all Had been safe hidden by the crafty Smith. But Regin came within and drew aside The reindeer skin that veiled the golden rings. King Nithad's men gaped greedily to see Seven hundred rings strung on the linden bast, And much they marvelled at their beauty rare. Soon seized they on them, but the King forbade, "Put those rings back again," he loudly cried, "Touch naught, my men," said he, "but let them bide. First we will trap our quarry and secure His person, Sirs, ere we divide the spoil." Said Regin, softly whispering in his ear, "My Liege, make sure of one ring hanging there, I know it by mine art to be of price ...... It hath a magic virtue ..... See, Lord King, How it doth change its colour when I bring This sprig of rowan near it;" as he spake He touched the Elfin ring and it gave forth Sparks of red fire, and blue and golden gleams, That for a moment lighted all the Hall ..... Then gloom Gathered again save for one torch's flare That a tall guardsman held. Regin the ring Took from the bast...... Said the dark moody King, His greedy eyes aflame with a red glare That matched the fiery ruby in the ring, "I'll take that one, for surely one ring gone Will not be missed tonight" ....... Upon his hand Shone the red ruby, and a moment he Gazed on its lurid beauty, then said he, "I could have sworn it pricked me, can it be That venom lurks within it?" Regin said, In somewhat flurried voice, "My Liege, give me The ring an thou dost fear it" ........ Well would he ave ta'en the ring himself, who knew its power, But saw not how to gain it save by guile. Quoth Nithad, "Nay, 'twas fancy ...... What I take I hold, good Regin ...... Thou shalt have red gold In plenty ere all's done, and store of gems, But not this ring, I like it passing well ....... Now go we forth awhile, and hiding wait Till the sly Smith comes home........ See, how the fire He has banked up with peat ........ He'll come tonight, And we can seize him while he is asleep." So went they forth in secret as they came, And rode into the Mirkwood, there encamped In a secluded valley, keeping watch. At midnight came back Wayland to his house, On his long snow-shoes gliding 'neath the moon, A weary man, from harbouring the bear That he would hunt the morn; much else he'd done Of cunning wood-craft, tired to death was he. His hounds he left in Mirkwood, kennelled there In his small forest hut, that they might be Fresh for the chase upon the following day. Save one old dog that followed at his heels He was alone. That he might lodge his hounds He had ta'en the long road, so missed the spies Who watched for him. He came towards the hearth, Where the peat-fire gave out a welcome heat, And stirred the fir-logs till they blazed amain. Upon his shoulders he had borne a bear, A brown she-bear that he had killed that day; This he now skinned and cut therefrom a haunch That he might roast some collops ...... Now blazed high The rock-dry fir-logs, and the wind-dry wood Kindled by Wayland burst into bright flame. So cooked he the bear's flesh and ate thereof, Washing it down with ale, and yet again Filled up his horn and drank, and ate rye-cakes That on the hearth-stone he himself had baked. Then sat he down upon the bear-skin spread Before the fire, and took the linden bast To count his rings o'er, as he had been used. To his amazement he found one was gone ...... He looked, and lo! It was the magic ring That now was missing ...... Bounded then his heart And joyful leapt within him, for he thought Elfwhite, King Lodver's daughter, had come home ...... Was she then hiding somewhere, should he call? But no, he'd wait her humour. Soon she'd come, And round his neck her slim white arms she'd fling, Kissing him fondly. On his breast she'd lie As in the old days; all once more would be As though these wretched hours had never been ..... He would ask her forgiveness, and she his...... So sat he musing long, and oft he sighed, And often half rose up, then sank again Down on the bear-skin. It was warm within, Grateful the heat of the hot glowing fire ..... He nodded drowsily ...... What was that sound Of creeping footsteps? ...... Surely Elfwhite came ..... He would sit still and wait for her soft arms ...... Soon would he hold her fast ...... hold her for aye ..... She should not leave him ever ..... What was that? The old dog pricked its ears and snarling growled ...... Was that young Iran's whisper in his ear? The boy would play some merry jest with him ....... He thoght he heard a laugh, a smothered sound, And footsteps creeping nearer ....... Soon they'd come; He would not look, but gazed into the fire, And bade the hound cease growling ...... It obeyed ..... Was that a whistle, or the whimpering wind That played around the eaves? His head sunk lower ..... So long he sat thus that at last his limbs, Tired out by his long labour, all relaxed, Lay stretched out on the bear-skin 'fore the fire ..... His head sank forward on his mighty chest, And with a smile lay Wayland fast asleep; No foe he feared, in peace he took his rest, Nor heard the savage growling of his hound Till its sharp warning bark ...... the first and last ..... Roused him too late ..... He stirred in his deep sleep .... With a great shuddering start he waked ..... What touch Was on his wrists, his ankles? "Ha!" cried he, "Elfwhite, where art thou? What is this?" He felt The heavy shackles on his hands. His feet Were clasped by iron fetters ...... He was bound ..... Across the threshold of the open door His hound lay dead, stretched in a pool of blood...... In helpless plight lay Wayland, Wade's son. He woke to grim reality, and found The grey dawn breaking. Though he seemed alone He knew his foes were on him. Loud he cried, In a great voice and fearless, "Who are ye? Princes indeed and heroes who beset A sleeping man who is of noble birth, Nor should be fettered thus....... Stand forth, ye curs! Why have ye meddled with my golden rings, And stolen one, meseems? Come, answer me! Why have ye bound me?" Mocking laughter pealed, As from the shadows sprang King Nithad's men, And from the court came others pouring in, Who pointed fingers at him, taunting him. King Nithad forward strode, and shouting bawled, "Where gattest thou such treasure, wealth untold, O Wayland, Lord of Elves ....... There is no gold In Wolfsdale or on Glisten Heath I know, Hast thou then been to Gnita Heath perchance, Where Fafnir coiled doth guard his precious hord? Surely I think this land lies far from Rhine, Where men say is much treasure in the hills ...... Where hast thou been to gather gold, thou swine?" Spake Wayland ..... Lord of Elves though he might be, He seemed just now naught but a stricken man In bitter grief and shame ..... "A greater thing, And far more precious treasure had we here, When it was well with us in Wolfsdale yesteryear...... Snowwhite and Elfwhite, Lodver's daughters dear, And Kiar's daughter Olrun, once dwelt here, Loved by us brothers very tenderly ....... Now are they fled for ever" ........ Deep he sighed, Speaking as to himself ...... He paid no heed To Nithad or his men....... The angry King Kicked him and roared, "Dost thou not hear me, dog? Dost thou not know that I can have thee slain An thou tell not the truth? And, by the Gods, Not by an easy death hope thou to die ...... Thy grandsire's (3) kindred in vile treachery Slew Mimer called the Wise, mine ancestor, Who knows indeed that false Ivalde's self Had not a hand in that foul murder done? He and his drunken Vans in mockery Sent Mimer's head to Odin; therefore know Thy torments shall end with the Rista-örn ........ Thy Mimung shall spread-eagle carve on thee, Yet ere that chance e'en for that death thou'lt crave ..... And have it not, until it be my will." King Nithad's warriors laughed and clashed their arms, Their white teeth gleamed in the red torch's flare, Glistened their savage eyes, like wolves they snarled; But Wayland spake no word, with a fierce stare He lay and looked on Nithad, whose eyes fell Before that piercing glance. In sullen rage The King turned from his captive, bade his men Bring him without and bind him on a horse. Said he, "Where's Schemming?" Wayland answered not, Nor told the King that Egil rode his steed, Lent to him with good-will ...... Then Nithad saw Where Mimung sheathed hung up upon the wall. He took it down in sharp astonishment, Thinking it was a copy of his own ...... He drew his blade from scabbard, with an oath He guessed the trick played on him ..... With the hilt He struck his captive full upon the mouth, As helpless he was carried from the house, So that the blood gushed forth ...... Still not a word Fell from the Smith's grim lips, he only laughed; But such the horror of that awful sound Of savage laughter, that men stood aghast, And Nithad trembled ..... Then to hide his dread He roughly cried ...... "Come lift him up, my men, Over the crupper sling him of my horse ..... Tie him up tighter, strap his elbows fast." And none too gently did his men obey. So Nithad homewards rode and in his sheath Lay the true Mimung, at his saddle-bow Hung the false copy ...... On his hand the ring Gleamed fiery in the dawning ....... Strapped across The crupper of his steed the prisoner lay Flat on his back, his head hung dangling low, His heels beneath the horse's belly bound. They rode through Mirkwood, and ere long was heard The baying of the hounds in Wayland's hut, Who, hearing strangers pass, gave warning tongue. Said Wayland faintly to the Niarings' Lord, Scarce might he speak, so swollen was his tongue, "King, will ye then that my good beasts should starve? An Emperor's ransom would not buy such hounds" ...... Said Nithad, "Silence, knave!" Yet as they passed He called a halt, and bade his huntsmen leash The dogs in couples, for they were of price ...... Good lymers some, and others alans were, And mastiff-tykes well trained to hunt the bear, Both fallow, dun, and white, and others black. These Nithad's huntsmen with some trouble brought, Speaking them fair, nor threat'ning, but did cry, "List, hallow! Hyke, ye hounds! O list, list, list!" So that they followed to the hunting call. So came they home to Niarenberg, and there Cynwig, the Queen of Nithad, stood without The Hall upon the perron, (4) and with her Their daughter Bathilde, and the little lads, Kind Nithad's youngest sons, twins were those boys. Prince Otwin was not there, for in the South He dwelt at Hjalprek's Court to prove himself, And it was thought ere long he'd win his spurs ....... King Nithad's men dismounted in the Court With many a sneering laugh and cruel jeer At Wayland's plight, who once their comrade was, The King himself rode proudly up the Hall, Queen Cynwig pacing slowly at his side, Her hand upon his bridle, but her eyes Were fixed upon the captive with a glance Of mingled rage and terror....... Yet he lay As though unconscious, nor once looked her way. Nithad, dismounting, to a foot-page flung His charger's reins ....... A tankard seized he then And drank his fill, then called he to his guards, "Untie that rascal, bring him straightway here." They loosed him from the horse, and dragged him on Towards the King. While this was being done, Nithad his daughter called, and, kissing her, He set upon her finger the gold ring, Bidding her guard it very heedfully. Unto Queen Cynwig he gave other rings, And would have kissed her also, but the Dame, With head averted, still with troubled eyes Gazed at the helpless captive ...... Hate gleamed forth And cast out fear ...... To Nithad loud she cried, When Wayland stood before them, still fast bound, His legs cramped by the fetters, and his hands Swollen and bruised by the tight bonds, his mouth Blackened and bleeding still ..... "What sight is this? This prisoner that ye bring from out Mirkwood? He looks not blithe in truth. Is't Wayland Smith That we once knew as Goldbrand? Ah! my King, His eyes are like the eyes of flashing snake, And see what ghastly smile doth writhe his lips, As like some ravening wolf he shews his fangs, And girns (5) upon our daughter! 'Tis the ring Upon her finger that doth grieve his soul, O yet more horrible doth grow his grin As he eyes Mimung girded to thy side ...... Thou hast two Mimungs there ...... How can it be? Lord, in this lies some devil's mystery ...... Oh! Slay this wretch ...... At least, put out his eyes ...... I cannot bear their evil mocking stare." Quoth Nithad, "Nay, but I will keep this man To use him as my tool. He is of price; Ne'er has the world seen such a Master-Smith." Said then Queen Cynwig, "Keep him an ye must, But lest he do some harm I pray thee, Sire, Have his legs' sinews severed and thereby Destroy his power for mischief ....... Then set him In Seastead, in the wooded holm that lies Just off the shore ....... So were it best, my Lord." Quoth Nithad, "Nay, my Queen, this may not be, For as he is he shall more useful prove, Sound, whole of limb and healthy ...... Say no more ...... Be sure I'll have him guarded carefully, And he shall work for us as once before. I do repent me that I struck the man, Not once but twice, and I will give him gold ...... I have a hasty temper in my wrath, And I was angered by his impudence ...... I bear the knave no grudge ....... I'll generous be And pay him for his labour ...... Wayland, hear! Thou shalt have recompense if I have been A little hasty in mine acts to thee ....... Once more be thou my faithful servant, then Shalt earn thy liberty....... Meanwhile be thou Contented with thy lot, nor grumble more. Look not so sourly on us, Wade's son ...... Speak to us, man, and say what aileth thee? Ye knaves, bring water! Cleanse from off his face The blood and grime ....... Thou Cupbearer, pour wine! Loosen his wrists a trifle ...... Set a stool ...... Let him sit down and get his breath again ........ Our ride was long, the going heavy too ...... Nor doth one easy ride slung o'er a horse ...... So, Wayland! Glare not thus ...... Art thou gone mad?" He shuddered as he spake, for Wayland looked With his fierce fiery eyes straight at the King. Quoth he in quiet voice, yet cold and grim, "In Nithad's girdle I see gleam a sword That I forged for myself with all my skill, I tempered it with my full cunning, and I whetted the good blade, but not for him ...... Yet now he wears it ...... Now is my sharp sword For ever lost to me ...... Oh! Ne'er again Goes Mimung to my Smithy....... Woe is me! And see, on Bathilde's finger where shines bright My bride's red ring ........ Ha! This shall be revenged! Ne'er take I recompense, thou niddering, Thou coward Nithad, for this deed of thine. Do thou thy worst upon me" ......... Nithad spake, Still in a friendly mood, or so it seemed, Though his brow darkened and his cheeks were flushed At the words Wayland spake; "Take him apart ...... Loosen the bonds upon his hands, yet keep His feet in fetters. Give him meat and wine And treat him gently ...... In the Common Hall Shall he sit guarded till a better mind Cometh upon him. On your heads be it If he escape. Let four men guard the Smith By day, and four by night. Go, lead him hence ....... Niall, in thy charge be he ....... Was't not thou That gat a beating from him? Sure am I Thou wilt not let him loose." Black Niall scowled, And dragged the prisoner out, who struggled not, Nor paid attention to his jailor's threats. In truth he heard them not, his wandering mind On Elfwhite longing thought, then on revenge. END OF VOLUME ONE.
© 2004-2007 Northvegr. Most of the material on this site is in the public domain. However, many people have worked very hard to bring these texts to you so if you do use the work, we would appreciate it if you could give credit to both the Northvegr site and to the individuals who worked to bring you these texts. A small number of texts are copyrighted and cannot be used without the author's permission. Any text that is copyrighted will have a clear notation of such on the main index page for that text. Inquiries can be sent to info@northvegr.org. Northvegr™ and the Northvegr symbol are trademarks and service marks of the Northvegr Foundation. |
|