The Story of the Volsungs Part 26

There drank Atli, The awful Hun king, Wine in his fair hall; Without were the warders, Gunnar's folk to have heed of, Lest they had fared thither With the whistling spear War to wake 'gainst the king.

But first came their sister As they came to the hall, Both her brethren she met, With beer little gladdened: "Bewrayed art thou, Gunnar!

What dost thou great king To deal war to the Huns?

Go thou swift from the hall!

Better, brother, hadst thou Fared here in thy byrny Than with helm gaily dight Looked on Atli's great house: Them hadst sat then in saddle Through days bright with the sun Fight to awaken And fair fields to redden:

"O'er the folk fate makes pale Should the Norn's tears have fallen, The s.h.i.+eld mays of the Huns Should have known of all sorrow; And King Atli himself To worm-close should be brought; But now is the worm-close Kept but for thee."

Then spake Gunnar Great 'mid the people: "Over-late sister The Niblungs to summon; A long way to seek The helping of warriors, The high lord unshamed, From the hills of the Rhine!"

Seven Hogni beat down With his sword sharp-grinded, And the eighth man he thrust Amidst of the fire.

Ever so shall famed warrior Fight with his foemen, As Hogni fought For the hand of Gunnar.

But on Gunnar they fell, And set him in fetters, And bound hard and fast That friend of Burgundians; Then the warrior they asked If he would buy life, But life with gold That king of the Goths.

n.o.bly spake Gunnar, Great lord of the Niblungs; "Hogni's bleeding heart first Shall lie in mine hand, Cut from the breast Of the bold-riding lord, With bitter-sharp knife From the son of the king."

With guile the great one Would they beguile, On the wailing thrall Laid they hand unwares, And cut the heart From out of Hjalli, Laid it bleeding on trencher And bare it to Gunnar.

"Here have I the heart Of Hjalli the trembler, Little like the heart Of Hogni the hardy: As much as it trembleth Laid on the trencher By the half more it trembled In the breast of him hidden."

Then laughed Hogni When they cut the heart from him, From the crest-smith yet quick, Little thought he to quail.

The hard acorn of thought From the high king they took, Laid it bleeding on trencher And bare it Gunnar.

"Here have I the heart Of Hogni the hardy, Little like to the heart Of Hjalli the trembler.

Howso little it quaketh Laid here on the dish, Yet far less it quaked In the breast of him laid.

"So far mayst thou bide From men's eyen, O Atli, As from that treasure Thou shalt abide!

"Behold in my heart Is hidden for ever That h.o.a.rd of the Niblungs, Now Hogni is dead.

Doubt threw me two ways While the twain of us lived, But all that is gone Now I live on alone.

"The great Rhine shall rule O'er the hate-raising treasure, That gold of the Niblungs, The seed of the G.o.ds: In the weltering water Shall that wealth lie a-gleaming, Or it s.h.i.+ne on the hands Of the children of Huns!"

Then cried Atli, King of the Hun-folk, "Drive forth your wains now The slave is fast bounden."

And straightly thence The bit-shaking steeds Drew the h.o.a.rd-warden, The war-G.o.d to his death.

Atli the great king, Rode upon Glaum, With s.h.i.+elds set round about, And sharp thorns of battle: Gudrun, bound by wedlock To these, victory made G.o.ds of, Held back her tears As the hall she ran into.

"Let it fare with thee, Atli, E'en after thine oaths sworn To Gunnar fell often; Yea, oaths sworn of old time, By the sun sloping southward, By the high burg of Sigry, By the fair bed of rest, By the red ring of Ull!"

Now a host of men Cast the high king alive Into a close Crept o'er within With most foul worms, Fulfilled of all venom, Ready grave to dig In his doughty heart.

Wrathful-hearted he smote The harp with his hand, Gunnar laid there alone; And loud rang the strings.-- In such wise ever Should hardy ring-scatterer Keep gold from all folk In the garth of his foeman.

Then Atli would wend About his wide land, On his steed brazen shod, Back from the murder.

Din there was in the garth, All thronged with the horses; High the weapon-song rose From men come from the heath.

Out then went Gudrun, 'Gainst Atli returning, With a cup gilded over, To greet the land's ruler; "Come, then, and take it, King glad in thine hall, From Gudrun's hands, For the h.e.l.l-farers groan not!"

Clashed the beakers of Atli, Wine-laden on bench, As in hall there a-gathered, The Huns fell a-talking, And the long-bearded eager ones Entered therein, From a murk den new-come, From the murder of Gunnar.

Then hastened the sweet-faced Delight of the s.h.i.+eld-folk, Bright in the fair hall, Wine to bear to them: The dreadful woman Gave dainties withal To the lords pale with fate, Laid strange word upon Atli:

"The hearts of thy sons Hast thou eaten, sword-dealer, All b.l.o.o.d.y with death And drenched with honey: In most heavy mood Brood o'er venison of men!

Drink rich draughts therewith, Down the high benches send it!

"Never callest thou now From henceforth to thy knee Fair Erp or fair Eiril, Bright-faced with the drink; Never seest thou them now Amidmost the seat, Scattering the gold, Or shafting of spears; Manes tr.i.m.m.i.n.g duly, Or driving steeds forth!"

Din arose from the benches, Dread song of men was there, Noise 'mid the fair hangings, As all Hun's children wept; All saving Gudrun, Who never gat greeting, For her brethren bear-hardy For her sweet sons and bright, The young ones, the simple Once gotten with Atli.

The seed of gold Sowed the swan-bright woman, Rings of red gold She gave to the house-carls; Fate let she wax, Let the bright gold flow forth, In naught spared that woman The store-houses' wealth.

Atli unaware Was a-weary with drink; No weapon had he, No heeding of Gudrun-- Ah, the pity would be better, When in soft wise they twain Would full often embrace Before the great lords!

To the bed with sword-point Blood gave she to drink With a hand fain of death, And she let the dogs loose: Then in from the hall-door-- --Up waked the house-carls-- Hot brands she cast, Gat revenge for her brethren.

To the flame gave she all Who therein might be found; Fell adown the old timbers, Reeked all treasure-houses; There the s.h.i.+eld-mays were burnt, Their lives' span brought to naught; In the fierce fire sank down All the stead of the Budlungs.

Wide told of is this-- Ne'er sithence in the world, Thus fared bride clad in byrny For her brothers' avenging; For behold, this fair woman To three kings of the people, Hath brought very death Or ever she died!

THE WHETTING OF GUDRUN.

Gudrun went down unto the sea whenas she had slain Atli, and she cast herself therein, for she was fain to end her life: but nowise might she drown. She drave over the firths to the land of King Jonakr, and he wedded her, and their sons were Sorli, and Erp, and Hamdir, and there was Swanhild, Sigurd's daughter, nourished: and she was given to Jormunrek the Mighty. Now Bikki was a man of his, and gave such counsel to Randver, the king's son, as that he should take her; and with that counsel were the young folk well content.

Then Bikki told the king, and the king let hang Randver, but bade Swanhild be trodden under horses' feet. But when Gudrun heard thereof, she spake to her sons--

Words of strife heard I, Huger than any, Woeful words spoken, Sprung from all sorrow, When Gudrun fierce-hearted With the grimmest of words Whetter her sons Unto the slaying.

"Why are ye sitting here?

Why sleep ye life away?

Why doth it grieve you nought?

Glad words to speak, Now when your sister-- Young of years was she-- Has Jormunrek trodden With the treading of horses?--

"Black horses and white In the highway of warriors; Grey horses that know The roads of the Goths.--

"Little like are ye grown To that Gunnar of old days!

Nought are your hearts As the heart of Hogni!

Well would ye seek Vengeance to win If your mood were in aught As the mood of my brethren, Or the hardy hearts Of the Kings of the Huns!"

Then spake Hamdir, The high-hearted-- "Little didst thou Praise Hogni's doings, When Sigurd woke From out of sleep, And the blue-white bed-gear Upon thy bed Grew red with man's blood-- With the blood of thy mate!