Myths of the Norsemen

by Roger Green

  Gunnar and Hogni, however, took the treasure Andvari’s hoard between them, and they gave their sister Gudrun as wife to a king called Atli. When Gudrun placed the ring of Andvari on Atli’s finger the curse fell upon him too, so that he desired nothing more strongly than the gold, and cared not what evil he did to gain it.

  So he invited Gunnar and Hogni to be his guests, and they came with a small train of followers. But before they set out, they hid the treasure Andvari’s hoard deep beneath the waters of the river Rhine: and only they two knew the place.

  When they reached Atli’s hall, that evil king seized them, murdered their followers, and threatened them with torture if they did not tell him where Andvari’s hoard was hidden.

  Atli came first to Gunnar, who was set apart from his brother, and tried to make him tell where the treasure was hidden. But Gunnar said:

  ‘Hogni and I have sworn never to reveal where the treasure lies, and I will not break my oath while Hogni lives. But bring me Hogni’s severed head so that I may be sure that he lives no longer, and I will speak.’

  Atli immediately caused this to be done, and when he saw the severed head of his brother, Gunnar laughed triumphantly.

  ‘Now you shall never find Andvari’s hoard!’ he cried. ‘Only we two knew its hiding-place, and my brother was weaker than I, and might have betrayed it. Now his lips are sealed for ever, and no torture will wring a word from me.’

  Then in his rage and disappointment Atli had Gunnar thrown bound into a pit of serpents. But Gudrun sent her brother a harp, on which he played so wondrously well with his toes that no man had ever before heard the like. All the serpents fell into a doze, except one, which was not a true serpent but an evil witch in serpent’s form: and she fastened her fangs in Gunnar’s breast so that he died.

  After this Gudrun, as was her duty, sought vengeance on Atli for the death of her brothers. In the end she destroyed him and his followers by setting fire to his hall and burning them all in it.

  Then, wishing to live no longer, she flung herself into the sea. And so Andvari’s ring, which was upon her finger, returned into the deep waters, and Andvari’s curse was ended.

  But Brynhild, who had once been a Valkyrie, rode in her chariot down the dark road to Nifelheim where Hela ruled the dead; and Sigurd was welcomed by Odin in Valhalla: for both of them were to play their part at Ragnarok, on the Day of the Last Great Battle.

  11

  Ægir’s Brewing Kettle

  While there was peace between Asgard and Jotunheim, the Æsir held many glad feasts in their various halls. To them came even such Giants as had become their friends and acknowledged Odin as Allfather over the Nine Worlds.

  Chief among these was Ægir, the Ocean Giant, who ruled over the sea and had the merciless Ran for his wife – Ran who had lent Loki the net with which she dragged sailors to their doom, so that he might catch with it Andvari the Dwarf to bring a curse upon the Volsung race whom Odin favoured.

  Gaunt old Ægir with his white beard and green hair, and long, clutching claw-like fingers, seemed strange among the noble-looking Æsir and their beautiful wives. But his feasts in his own halls on an island in the Kattigat, where drowned sailors were welcomed as the dead warriors were in Valhalla, flowed with mead as plentiful as any in Asgard. And there his nine beautiful Wave-Daughters with their snow-white arms and breasts, their deep blue eyes and their flowing veils of green, followed their mother Ran with the golden cups even as Frigga’s daughters did after the feasts in Asgard.

  The Æsir had never visited Ægir’s halls, however, until one day as a feast was ending in Asgard, loud-voiced Thor, his tongue loosened by much drinking, taunted their guest:

  ‘Ægir!’ he cried. ‘You owe us Æsir many a feast in your halls: how soon will you begin to return all the hospitality which you have enjoyed in Asgard?’

  The slow-witted old Giant took Thor’s taunt as an insult. But he had both his excuse and his revenge ready.

  ‘I have not presumed to invite the noble Æsir to my poor dwelling,’ he said, ‘for I fear that I could not feast them worthily. True, there is enough food and to spare for all of you: but alas, I lack a brewing kettle large enough to make sufficient ale or mead for all the Æsir at one time … For I know how much you, great Thor, are accustomed to drink. But if you can find me a kettle large enough, I here and now invite you all to feast with me at the end of harvest on my island of Hlesey … But I fear that only among the Giants in Jotunheim is a big enough brewing kettle to be found.’

  ‘I know of only one such,’ said Tyr, the one-handed war-lord, slowly. ‘My mother’s father, the Giant Hymir, has a great host of kettles in his hall far to the eastward of the Elivagar river. One of them is a mile deep and so wide that you cannot see from one side of it to the other.’

  ‘That brewing kettle I will get, if force or guile can do it!’ cried Thor.

  ‘And I will come with you,’ said Tyr, ‘for without me you will have but a sorry welcome from the Giant Hymir.’

  So the two Æsir set out in Thor’s goat-drawn chariot. The thunder roared and the lightning flashed from the wheels as they sped across the sky in a mighty storm-cloud, until they came beyond the Sleet Bays at the end of the heavens to the grim edge of Jotunheim nearest to Hymir’s home.

  At the last house in Midgard they left their chariot, and went foward on foot over the bare rocks and up the dark valleys, until they came to the huge stone hall where Hymir lived, not far from the edge of the ice-cold ocean.

  At the door they were met by Hymir’s wife, a terrible Giantess with nine hundred heads. She was about to seize the two Æsir, and Thor began to swing Miolnir ready to smite, when there came out another Giantess, fair and lovely to look upon, with hair shining like gold.

  ‘Stay!’ she cried. ‘It is my son Tyr whom I bore to Odin the Allfather in the morning of time!’

  At that the old Giantess went grumbling back into the darkness of Hymir’s hall, while Tyr’s mother welcomed the two Æsir beside the warm fire.

  ‘I must hide you before Hymir comes,’ she warned them. ‘For he is sharp and savage to guests. You will be safe under a cauldron, until his anger cools; and when he knows that one of you is his grandson Tyr, I am certain that his rage will pass swiftly.’

  Presently they heard slow, heavy footsteps in the distance, and quickly Thor and Tyr slipped under one of the cauldrons behind a stone pillar under the staircase.

  Then Hymir came striding into the hall, the icicles on his beard tinkling and clattering together.

  ‘Greetings, my father Hymir,’ cried Tyr’s mother. ‘I beg you not to be angry, for we have guests who have come a long journey to visit us and borrow your great brewing kettle. One is my son Tyr, whom we have long hoped to see; and with him, in all peace and friendliness, has come his half-brother, the friend of man, who is named Thor.’

  ‘Thor the Giant-killer!’ roared Hymir, and he glared into the dark corner where the two Æsir were hiding. ‘Where is Thor?’

  The Giant’s look was so piercing that the stone pillar split in two, and the great beam above it came crashing to the ground and broke in half. And down from the shelf over it came eight huge cauldrons, seven of which were smashed into pieces, leaving only the great brewing kettle unbroken.

  Then the two Æsir came forward into the firelight, and Hymir did not look kindly upon Thor when he saw him who had made widows of so many Giantesses standing in his own hall. But his first flash of rage had passed, and he thought it wise to welcome the Æsir as friends.

  So he took three of his oxen, slew them, and set them to roast before the fire, while he gave his guests plenteous draughts of sweet mead and good home-brewed ale.

  But he was rather surprised when Thor ate two of the oxen all to himself, leaving only one for the rest of the company.

  ‘We must provide a larger feast than this for tomorrow,’ he grumbled, ‘or else we three shall go hungry, even if Thor is satisfied.’

  So early next morning Hymir got
up and went down to the sea-shore, dragging his boat after him, intending to catch a few whales for breakfast, in case his Æsir guests should eat up more of his oxen.

  At the water’s edge Thor joined him: ‘Let me row out to sea with you,’ he said, ‘for I should like to try my hand at fishing up monsters out of the deep.’

  ‘You are not likely to be of much help in my fishing,’ said Hymir scornfully. ‘Your small size is against you: and certainly you will freeze if we stay out at sea for as long as my custom is.’

  ‘Indeed!’ cried Thor, angered by this insult. ‘It seems to me that you are more likely than I to be the first who asks to row back.’

  ‘Well, come if you must,’ growled Hymir. ‘But you’ll have to find your own bait.’

  ‘That will not be difficult,’ exclaimed Thor, and springing over the wall into Hymir’s meadow he seized his biggest and fiercest bull, a huge black beast called Heaven-bellower, and twisted off his head with a single flick of his wrist.

  The Giant frowned, and muttered doubtfully to himself when he saw this, for he was frightened by Thor’s strength, though he would not admit it even to himself.

  So they got into the boat, and Hymir pushed off from the land while Thor sat down in the stern, seized a couple of oars, and rowed so lustily that Hymir felt more and more alarmed.

  Very soon they reached the fishing-banks where Hymir was accustomed to anchor his boat and angle for flat-fish.

  ‘We’ll stop here,’ he said, ‘for the best fishing is always done at this distance from the shore.’

  ‘Not so,’ answered Thor, plying his oars until they bent like withies. ‘Here we would only catch miserable little fish. Only in the deep sea can we find monsters!’

  Hymir became more and more uneasy, and at last he cried:

  ‘Now we must indeed turn back, for here we are above the ocean depths where the Midgard Serpent rests.’

  When Thor heard this he smiled grimly, and shipped his oars. Then he made ready a very stout line and a mighty hook, baited with the bull’s head, which he lowered to the bottom of the sea.

  Meanwhile Hymir was hauling up whales two at a time on his lines and flinging them into the boat in front of him.

  ‘That’s enough,’ he exclaimed at last. ‘Now let us row for the shore before any great danger befalls us.’

  But even as he spoke, the Midgard Serpent snapped at the ox-head, and the hook caught in his jaws. When he realized that he was caught, he dashed away with such fury that Thor’s fists holding the line crashed against the side of the boat.

  With a roar of anger Thor braced himself against the pull and strained back so hard that his feet went through the bottom of the boat. But now, surely and steadily, he was drawing in his mighty catch; and the whole sea heaved and bubbled, and a great whirlpool opened round the line.

  When the head of Jormungand came into sight above the water, Hymir cried aloud in terror: for nothing in the world could ever again seem fearful or hideous to those who had once seen the Midgard Serpent.

  As Thor drew the monster to the side of the boat and made ready to strike it with his hammer, the whole earth shook; and the terrible cry of Jormungand echoed over the cold waters and away into the icy fastnesses of the north.

  Hymir grew pale, his face turned yellow and his knees knocked together. At the very moment when Thor whirled up Miolnir to strike, Hymir lent forward and cut the line with his fish-knife; and the Midgard Serpent sank back to the bottom of the sea.

  With a roar of rage Thor flung his hammer after Jormungand, and then smote Hymir on the side of the head with his fist so that the Giant plunged head first into the sea.

  Miolnir returned to Thor’s hand having done no more than bruise the Serpent’s head; and Hymir clambered quickly back into the boat, where he sat sulkily, speaking never a word, while Thor rowed to land.

  When they reached the shore, Hymir clambered out of the boat and said bitterly to Thor:

  ‘I beg you at least to share the work with me. Either carry the whales to my house, or else pull the boat up on to dry land for me.’

  ‘Right willingly,’ answered Thor, whose gust of rage had already past. And he swung up the boat, complete with oars, bailer, bilge-water, and its cargo of whales and strode along the steep path to the Giant’s house carrying it on his head.

  They sat down to breakfast, and the whales very soon disappeared – mainly down Thor’s ravenous throat.

  Still, however, the stubborn Giant would not admit that Thor was stronger than he; and he decided to put him to one further test.

  ‘Of course you can pull an oar strongly,’ he remarked. ‘And you fish well, besides carrying a boat fairly easily. But I can scarcely call you strong just for doing these things: for I do not suppose that you could break my beaker for all your strength. It takes a Giant to do even a little thing like that.’

  Thor took up the Giant’s beaker and looked at it. Then he flung it against a stone pillar so hard that it passed right through and crashed against the wall beyond.

  But Hymir picked it up from the floor and returned it to him: and Thor perceived that it did not even show a dent in its surface.

  Thor tried again and yet again, dashing it about with such force that it went through pillars and walls. But always when he picked it up it was quite whole and unmarked.

  As he went to collect it for the last time, the beautiful Giantess, Tyr’s mother, passed him and whispered swiftly:

  ‘Dash it against Hymir’s head! That is harder than any cup!’

  Thor did as she suggested, and swinging round he hurled the beaker at Hymir’s head with all his mighty strength.

  The beaker fell to the floor shattered into fragments, while Hymir’s forehead showed no mark. But the old Giant lamented bitterly the breaking of his favourite cup.

  ‘Many good things are departing from me,’ he sighed. ‘Never again shall I quaff ale from this cup which now lies shattered at my feet … Well, Thor the Giants’ Bane, and Tyr my grandson, you have prevailed. There stands my great brewing kettle: you have but to lift it and carry it away with you.’

  Tyr at once stepped forward and seized the kettle: but strive though he might, he could not stir it.

  Then Thor took it by the rim and swung it up so mightily that his feet sank though the floor of the hall. He clapped it on his head like a helmet and strode triumphantly away, the chains and pot-hooks rattling about his heels.

  Along the road they went in the direction of the Elivagar river. But presently they heard a tumult behind them, and turning back saw a throng of many-headed Giants in pursuit, waving clubs and shouting that they would deal with all thieving Æsir who came into Jotunheim.

  Thor set down the kettle, and swinging Miolnir round his head, hurled it at the nearest Giant who fell with his stone skull shattered in pieces. As soon as Miolnir returned to his hand, Thor threw it again: and so he continued until many of the Giants lay dead and the rest turned and fled back into the misty mountains of Jotunheim.

  Then Thor clapped the kettle on his head once more and went forward full of pride and boasting of his feats among the Giants.

  But when he came to the Elivagar river, the ferryboat was on the further side, and in it sat an old one-eyed ferryman with a hoary white beard and a broad-brimmed hat, wrapped in a dark blue cloak.

  ‘How now, little old man across the river!’ shouted Thor. ‘Who are you, and why do you not bring the boat across for me?’

  ‘Who is that churl of churls who shouts at me across the water?’ answered the old man. ‘Tell me your name, or never expect to be ferried across Elivagar. For Hildwolf the Giant, whose boat this is, has commanded me not to carry any poachers or thieves across the river, but only good men and worthy.’

  ‘I am the Strong One of the Æsir,’ answered Thor, ‘and Odin is my father. Thor is my name – so you may well tremble.’

  ‘As for me,’ said the old man, ‘my name is Hoarbeard. You must be an outlaw to pretend that you are Sif’s husban
d! But even if you were really Thor himself you have a fiercer man to deal with now than you have ever met, since Rungnir’s death!’

  ‘I slew Rungnir the stone-headed Giant!’ roared Thor. ‘And what were you doing at the time of my great battle that makes you so boastful now?’

  ‘Fighting five winters long in the All Green Island,’ answered Hoarbeard, ‘and gaining the love there of seven Giant sisters. Did Thor ever do the like?’

  ‘I slew Thiassi,’ was the answer, ‘and tossed his eyes into the heavens where they now shine as stars. What say you to that?’

  ‘Lebard was the sturdiest of Giants, yet I wiled him out of his wit and took his wand of magic. What were you doing then, Thor?’

  ‘I was in the east of Jotunheim, smiting the ill-working Giant-brides on their way to the hills. Had I not slain them, the world would be teeming with Giants and no man could live in Midgard. What were you doing then, Hoarbeard?’

  ‘I was in Valland, fighting for mankind, urging the heroes to stand against the evil ones. As for you, Thor, you were hiding in Skrymir’s glove, shivering with fear lest the Giant should hear you.’

  ‘Hoarbeard, you coward and dastard, I would smite you to your death if but my hammer would fly so far as to cross this river.’

  ‘Why should you wish to kill me?’ asked Hoarbeard. ‘I speak only the truth. Have you done anything else to boast of?’

  ‘I was in Jotunheim once, defending this river, when Svarang the Giant and his terrible sons set upon me. They pelted me with the tops of mountains, yet I defeated them, and they begged mercy of me in vain. What were you doing then, Hoarbeard?’

  ‘I was in Jotunheim too, wooing a Giantess. Her son shall bring great help to the Æsir at the Day of Ragnarok.’

  ‘I was slaying the wild women in the island of Hlesey –’

  ‘Slaying women, a coward’s game!’ jeered Hoarbeard.

  ‘These were witch-women; they went as werewolves!’ shouted Thor. ‘They shattered my ship with an iron club, and threatened to smite me, and kneaded my servant Thialfi as if he were dough. But come across the river, and I will soon show you with strokes of Miolnir if Thor is valiant.’