The Ice-Shirt

by William T. Vollmann

  The Shirt of Perpetuity

  Oh, that game of Changing! The players did not really want to be anything; they only wanted to be what they were not. Nobody saw that change came of its own, unfolding as was ordained, so that one would be as ungracious to rush it as to stay it - which latter in his anxiety did King On, Jorund's son, who did not want to die, and so offered up nine of his ten sons to Odin for longer life, one by one, and longer life ODIN gave him, although in time he could not walk, and then he could not sit, and then he could not eat; and still he wanted to sacrifice his tenth son, but the Swedes would not allow it, and so King On died. - Imagine the terror that kept him from seeing that most corpses close their eyes so peacefully! How his skull gaped, before he was dead, the flesh around it hardly more than a worn habit! - and all along he had known that it must someday be so; he knew it before his father was hanged by the King of Halogaland; he knew it when he fled from two Kings of Denmark; he knew it when his wife died and was buried in the ground, with a horrible empty space beside her that waited for him, and must be filled by his dead body someday, and then his dead wife's skull would kiss his skull in a great hard clack of bone; but his knowing the inevitability of it did not at all help him, so he mummified himself alive for his second sixty years, taking only mummy-amusements that made his mummy-mouth grin and grin in the coolness of his palace vaults where he sat to be safe from

  drafts and wars and angry sons; so he preserved his bones as if they were Turkish glass; but finally he had to change just the same; he had to put on the Mold-Shirt.

  OldBiood

  Thus went the game, down the long dynasty of the Yngling Kings, which no one yet saw an end of; - as if those Changers would never run out of carven pieces to play! as if the world-circle could possibly continue to give birth to new seas and islands of itself! - although it was true, as the Changers well knew, that King Dag's sparrow had one day leapt up from his shoulder to spread wings and claws and swoop through the tower wdndow to see the news and never returned; it was true that King On was dead; - and men agreed that in earlier days nine sons would have bought nine centuries, but now scarce nine decades could be expected; nor could sons change as easily as they ought: so On's last son Egil, who was now King after him, called his son Ottar before him and said, "Become a bear!" and little Ottar slavered and shook himself and ground his teeth and the yellow fangs sprouted from his lip; and King Egil said, "Become a wolf!" and Ottar fell on all fours growling softly and working the comers of his mouth and he slunk into the comer watching his father over his shoulder and clothed himself with grey dog-hair, so that Egil knelt dovm and stroked his head between the warily lifted ears and the little wolf-prince licked his teeth in delicate modesty as Egil said, "Well done, my son!", but later, when he had transformed himself into a boy again, Egil saw how much effort it had cost him, and felt misgiving. After King Egil was killed by a bull, and Ottar succeeded him, he mled justly, ravaging the lands of the Danes and giving booty always to his men, so that he was well loved and supported, but one day the Danes came upon him in the woods and though he sought to change himself and his right arm had already become hairy they killed him just the same. - Hearing what had befallen, his son King Adils said to himself, "Indeed this would never have happened to my grandfather. King Egil!" and he went into a dark tree-grove to see how he might fare at the practice. The black leaves whispered about him like secrets, and his father's howe cast a shadow upon shadows (inside, his father lay amidst his dearest treasures, but the serpents crawled in his beard). Now King Adils climbed up upon the mound and prayed to ODIN, saying: "My race has always been Were-Kings, dear Raven - so I ask you: guard our Changing-blood so that it does not bleed out of us!" and then he clambered down and parted the black

  thorn-branches beyond the mound and stood between two ash-trees that rose into each other's darkness and King Adils began to pant like a bear and said, "Odin, help me!" and it was very dark and shady like the Hall of Hel where men's ribs lay scattered among the grave-timbers, and the branches creaked about King Adils's head and he was afraid, but he curled his left hand into a claw and talons flowered, and he curled his right hand and again the fingernails grew, and he growled and glutted himself with great breaths to make his chest swell into a bear's chest, but nothing happened. Though he strove wdth himself, beating his chest until it was covered with welts and bruises, he could not become a bear. With an oath, he clapped his hands together and let his breath out, and his claws shrank back into flaccid fingers again, and he flung himself down into the leaves exhausted. "Our blood has been weakened by women!" he cried in dismay. But neither FREYJA nor FRIGG was there anymore for him to take. He married Yrsa, a yellow-haired girl from Saxland, and had sons by her, but it is said that in fear for the future he privily consulted the Lapps. They stirred their hearth-fires as they listened; they oflfered him reindeer milk. - "But you are cold!" they said wdth ironic tenderness. ''That is why you shiver in the Changing - you must put on your serk!" When he had paid in cattle, thralls and good red gold, they revealed to him certain magics and stratagems by which the game might be played out awhile longer; for although indeed the god-blood was failing with the new generations, yet suflficient powers remained in the hearts of animals to help, if eaten at those times when the sun dripped down like blood into the marshes and the wdnd smelled like ice. So as yet all remained well with the Ynglings, and after that blood-festival to PREYJA when King Adils was killed in a fall fi-om his horse, his son King Eystein ruled over Sweden, and though his mother Yrsa had been carried oflf by King Helge of Leidre, the son of that rape fell in battle, being unable to change himself, and King Eystein lived knovsdngly on, eating the hearts of wolves and bears as prescribed by the Lapps, and he fought the other Bear-Kings in a great clamor of shields until they burned him asleep in his house, at which his son Yngvar became King; and perhaps it was Yngvar who, considering what he had to have no longer as an attribute of himself, but only as a thing like his axe, persuaded the Lapps to sew him a special Bear-Shirt that he could carry wdth him whenever he needed it, or perhaps it was Yngvar's son. King Onund Road-Clearer, who did it; we know only that Halfdan the Black, a King in later times, reckoned back wdth his fingers through the thickets of his ancestors and said that it was not much after King Adils that the iron chests of Bear-Shirts became common among highborn men, to be passed dovm from father to son. The stuff of these shirts

  was matted hair, stinking of grease and blood; men pulled them down over their heads with hot voluptuousness; claws sprouted from the sleeves almost as rapidly as in the days of old King Egil, and the shirts began to pound with the heartbeats of the bears beneath . . . Even these, however, gradually became rare or lost their virtue with age, so that within a couple of hundred years there were not so many; but meanwhile the Changers changed with more ease than ever, and battle-suns clanged against battle-moons* as the treetops whipped in war-winds to show the rushing clouds of night, and many a winter there was when the red eye of fire glared through the bare trees so that pink tongues of light rippled on the snow and then there came shouts and terrible screams and the crashing down of burned timbers, at which the burners loped away with their chins low between their shoulders, grunting with happiness to see their enemies sent to join King On, King Egil, King Adils, King Eystein; and the Bear-Kings fished for treasure in Norway's streams and wandered among the trees seething with pride-lust and striving one with the other for gold and goods; many a summer field was marked by the swaggering prints of the usurping bears, and then other Changers trampled the soil, as if runes and words had been written one upon the other on a single page, so that the whiteness of the evening fields was dark with bear-hordes growling and tearing each other to pieces in mad rages, while the Wolf-Kings skulked on the outskirts, waiting for their chance. But the Yngling dynasty came to its end at last with Onund's son. King Ingjald the Evil-Worker.

  The Woif-Sfdrt

  Like all of us, Ingjald was bom naked; it was not immediately that he put on
the shirt that he was destined to wear. A pretty blue-eyed baby, he made his mother happy every hour, but when his clumsy little hands let go the spear-haft that was placed in them, then his father. King Onund Road-Builder, turned his face away. When Ingjald was a lad of six, there was a great Yule-feast in Upsal, where the Swedes held their sacrifices, and Ingjald played at war with Alf, King Yngvar's son, each of them leading an army of imagined boy-specters who offered perfect loyalty but had no strength, so that Alf and Ingjald were themselves compelled to lay hands on each other, no matter how ringingly they cried to vaporous spear-guards to conquer for them; and Alf knocked Ingjald down, saying, "Death to you, wicked Esdander!" - for it was in far

  * Both kennings for shields. On kennings see Glossary IV.

  Estland that Ingjaid's father had gone a-ravaging; then young Ingjaid jumped up flushing and marshaled his air-bearsarks and cried, "Pierce him, you men!", but the bearsarks were no stronger than air and Ingj aid was vanquished by Alf a second time, so that he fell and his head hit the hard ice and blood trickled through his hair; then Alf stood leaning over him and gloating, so little Ingj aid stood again and raised high his shield, Bloody-Back (which was, however, but a sheet of bark), and he gripped his spear (which was an ash-twig) and drew up his air-soldiers in the proper order of battle and advanced on Alf with awful resolution; but no matter how fiercely he strove with him in the snow he was throvm down with all his army, while the Bear-Kings gathered around in a circle and jeered. At last Ingj aid was almost in tears. Pitying him, his foster-brother Gautvid led him in to his foster-father Svipdag the Blind, who ruled over Upsal, and now sat where it was warm, exchanging news wdth the cracklings and sap-pops of green wood in the fire; and Gautvid cried: "Listen, father, and you will hear Ingj aid sniffling like a whipped girl! Pass your knowdng hands across his face, and you will find it wet with his unmanly tears! How may we expect this calf to be a King?" - "Oh, yes," sighed King Svipdag the Blind, "it is a great shame, a great shame indeed. Gautvid, go hunt down a wolf and bring me his heart." - Laughing, Gautvid snatched up his spear and ran from the hall, while old King Svipdag rocked himself in front of the fire, muttering, "A great shame; oh, yes," and Ingj aid King Onund's-Son stood wishing that he had never been bom, as Alf marched round and round outside the hall, breaking ofl" icicles and smashing them against the gables and calling, "Come fight again, Ingjald, if you dare!" - "Oh, he'll fight again tomorrow, hee-hee!" snickered old Svipdag to himself "Poor little Alf!" - Gautvid for his part ran swiftly and silently through the forest. The north wind blew furiously against him, and the trees creaked in groaning suspense as he took his way among the dark mountains where the wolves lived. Save for the snow-glare at his feet, it was pitch-black in the long winding tree-tunnels through which he threaded his way, and the roof-branches scraped hideously against his head, as if they wished to pluck his hair. The snow grew deeper, and the forest yet more dreary and gruesome, until presently he saw the darkness around him beset by triangular amber gleams. Gautvid knew well that these were wolves' eyes. He searched about until he spied a tree which he could readily climb, and there he waited wdth his back against it so that the wolves could not spring on him from behind. The night was black and dismal except for the snow's sick glare. At last he heard a howl very close to him, and another, and then the wolves came rushing upon him. How many of them there were he could not tell, for some lurked back among the trees, with their ears pressed cautiously

  against their heads; while the bolder ones crowded him, snarling, and their fang-teeth shone like the snow. - Brave Gautvid laughed aloud. He jabbed at them with his spear until they gave him a little peace, and then he leaped up into his tree. Seeing him escape, the animals hurled themselves into the air, but their teeth snicked together harmlessly in midair by his heels, and he swomg himself up into the tree-crotch and howled mockingly back at the wolves until they were maddened. The most ferocious of them, a great black she, scrabbled her claws against the tree-trunk again and again in her vain attempts to climb the tree and be at him, until the bark was torn off in a great ring; and even then she raked the smooth wood wdth gashes. Never did she cease glaring at him with her horrible amber eyes. Leaning low from the tree-branch, Gautvid said, "Necklace tree,* allow me to pluck your queenly heart!" He leaned lower still, as if he were falling; she sprang high to meet him; then with all his might Gautvid rammed his spear down her dark throat. She snapped the haft through with her teeth, but then fell howling upon the snow with the point still inside her. Gautvid jumped down upon her; he stamped once on her heaving belly; he stamped twice, and then the she-wolf coughed and died, with black gore dripping from her black beard. Seeing her companions sneaking close upon him, with their snouts upon the snow, Gautvid pulled the carcass back into the tree and set about the work that his father had commanded, parting the skin of that dark and hairy breast with his knife, and slicing through the ribs so that blood rained down upon the snow, and her brothers snuffed it up and keened. So he cut out the steaming heart. He threw the rest of her to the other wolves, who retired wretched and discomfited, and went away upon the tree-tops. - Surely he was not wicked who brought his foster-brother that evil heart, which beat yet in his hands and seared him wdth its venom, for he but obeyed his father. - In the morning, when the heart had finally ceased to quiver, Svipdag the Blind washed it and roasted it upon a stick, touching it often and licking his fingers, for he had eaten many such in his time. The black blood dripped hissing in the fire. When the meat was ready, Gautvid brought in little Ingjald, saying, "Eat, brother, and you will become strong!" Almost at once as the boy began to chew, his eyes shone like a wolf's eyes. He bolted his meal in snatches and gobbets; he licked the burned blood on the cinders. His nails and teeth grew long; his body grew hairy, and he became a person of the most ferocious disposition. He rushed in upon his rival Alf as he lay sleeping, and almost killed him. - "I do not know you!" cried his father Onund when he heard of this. "You are not my son." - "Oh, I'm your son,

  * Kenning for a woman.

  all right," said Ingjald sullenly. "And I remember now how once you turned your face away from me. If you do it a second time, I'll bum you out!" At this, Onund embraced him.

  When Ingjald had grown into his lust-age, King Onund applied to King Algaut of Godand for his daughter, Gauthild, so poor Gauthild was sent to Sweden to be married. Before the wedding had even been concluded, Ingjald threw himself upon her and ravished her. Not many autumns after, Onund was killed in a landslide, and Ingjald became King. He grinned for joy; he threw the embers about with his hairy black hands so that his followers must rush about with pails of water to extinguish every blaze. - "Have no fear," shouted Ingjald, "now that I'm King, I'll give you plenty of roast meat to eat!" - He invited seven Kings to his heritage-feast in Upsal. The hall that he built to receive them was called Hall of the Seven Kings, and we read that it was equal in splendor to God-Hall in the sacrificial grove where wooden ODIN, wooden THOR and wooden FREY stood gold-crowned in the darkness. Ingjaid's hall had seven high-seats for the seven Kings and Earls' seats innumerable, for he had invited every man of consequence in Sweden to be his guest. Six Kings came to the hall, among them his father-in-law King Algaut, and when they were stupid with ale King Ingjald burned them all up. So he enlarged his dominions by half

  But the seventh King, Granmar of Sodermanland, had not attended, knowing better than to exchange the shirt he wore for any garment of a more glowing character. When it was known to him that King Hjorvard-Viking lay off the Swedish coast with a stout war-fleet. King Granmar invited Hjorvard to a feast, and had his daughter Hildigunn serve him ale. Soon those two were plighted, and Granmar felt himself more secure. When the awaited Ingjald landed with his war-force, Granmar and Hjorvard stood against him where only Granmar had been expected, and Ingjald was forced to retire snapping and snarling, with many wounds, and kinsmen left dead on the shore behind him, like discarded clothing. Men lay groaning, with spears sprouting from their breast-bones like saplings,
and their mouths were fountains of blood. As Ingjald fled, he snuflled at his bleeding places, howling so loud that he did not hear his foster-brother Gautvid calling to him for aid - nor would he have aided him if he had heard, for Ingj aid's ambition exceeded his generosity. So Gautvid was left to fight alone beside a mossy Httle brook, whose waters ran pink with blood; and Odin's ravens flew about his head, waiting for him to die so that they could eat his eyes. Beside him stood his father, Svipdag the Blind, now a man of the most ancient years, who fought ludicrously, because he could not see, his sword sweeping empty air (for no one bothered vdth him yet; he was poor sport) - but no man's

  life is ludicrous to him who must defend it. - At last Gautvid was exhausted, and must lean on his sword to rest. At this, Hjorvard's bearsarks grinned with all their teeth, and struck at him, so that Gautvid was compelled to lift his sword again, before he had caught his breath. - "Well, father," said he, "it seems that Wolf-Heart has abandoned us." - "Oh, he has, has he?" quavered old Svipdag. "Maybe I did not make him eat enough of the meat. It was so long ago!" And he laid about him stupidly with his sword. - But now King Granmar saw Gautvid and rushed upon him, crying, "All men know that you and your blind father created that monster; go make HEL your wife and sire monsters on her!" -and so saying, Granmar pierced him deep in the belly with his sword, twisting it and leaning upon it with all his might until Gautvid's guts burst out and he died. - "Is my son dead?" cried Svipdag the Blind. "Did I hear him die? Speak! Will no one answer or avenge?" - "I will answer," said Viking-King Hjorvard, strolling up with easy steps, and whirling his axe in the sun. Then in one stroke he made of Svipdag a headless man. Thus perished the wolf-makers, and whether they were good or evil only the reader can say. - When Ingjaid's wounds had healed, and his temper somewhat abated, he concluded peace with his enemies. This peace was to endure as long as the three Kings lived. - "Well," said King Hjorvard, who did not know him, "we've drawn that young wolf's teeth." - "Perhaps," said Granmar. - On a summer night not long after, Ingjald burned them both up like cordwood. So his domains increased, and he capered laughing and alone in the forest.