The Last Wife of Attila the Hun

by Joan Schweighardt

  * * *

  We had cause, later, to think that they had not, for when the winds and the thunder had subsided sufficiently, we all took torches and went out into the rain to assess the damage. It was startling. The three great oaks nearest our hall—the sacred oaks of Wodan near which we had built our hall so as to elicit his consideration—had been torn up at the roots. It was as if Wodan, in his anger, had ripped them out of the earth with his mighty hand and thrown them down again like sticks. When he saw the sight, Gunner let out a cry and went down on his knees and struck his breast. Brunhild, who was standing behind him, put her hand on his shoulder.

  The trees represented the worst of the damage, though not its extent. One of our servants’ huts, we discovered after we had given up mourning for the trees, had blown away completely while the others remained strangely intact. We found one dead heifer right away, and later, three dead lambs. Hagen ran down to check on the horses and our storage huts. When he returned, riding his own horse, he reported that the barn had held, but the door had blown away and was nowhere in sight. The horses were fine, though wild with fear. Two of the storage huts had caved in while another appeared untouched—though its contents, much of our grains, had been sucked out of it. He was going off to Vascar’s hall, he declared, to be sure everyone there was safe, and on from there to all the others. Gunner told him it would do no good to go off now in the dark, but as Hagen could not be swayed, Gunner went for his horse and rode off at his side.

  The next day, even Brunhild got up early to stand amid the uprooted trees and broken limbs and wait for Hagen and Gunner’s return.

  Mother, who was expecting to hear the worst, had been mumbling to herself all morning. When she saw my brothers emerge from the forest, she said, as much to herself as to anyone, “I cannot bear it. This time I will not go on.” I was thinking the same, but when Gunner and Hagen came nearer, I did not see the despair on their faces that I had been anticipating.

  Hagen was the first to dismount. “Not a single death,” he said, his eyes wide with amazement. “The destruction took a narrow path from the north. They had winds and falling ice as we did, but nothing more. None of their livestock. Nothing.”

  Now Gunner slid off his horse. His eyes were trance-like. “We alone were singled out,” he whispered. “It is as if they meant to give us some warning, some message.” He blinked and set his gaze on Brunhild. His hand, which was trembling, came up to rest on her shoulder. “But for your runes,” he began. But his eyes came unfocused again, and his hand slipped back to his side.

  Since Gunner and Hagen neglected to invite Sigurd to ride with them in the mornings that followed, Sigurd put himself in charge of the clean-up. Gunner decided that Beckmar’s hut, the one that had blown away, need not be rebuilt. There were many empty huts on the lands of our freemen, and one servant less would make little difference to us. This was, Gunner reasoned, what the gods had intended when they had ripped up Beckmar’s hut. Why else should they have carried it away? Gunner spoke of the gods all the time now, and with deference much like that which he had for Brunhild. He was determined to make sense of their message. One thing he professed to know for certain; the gods were anxious that he should marry the valkyria as soon as possible. Otherwise they would not have stirred her to mark our walls and save our lives. Now we were only waiting for our freemen to complete their winter preparations and for our servants to return. Then we would have the mass slaughtering that always takes place at the beginning of the cold season so that the animals that cannot be kept alive through winter should not go to waste. The weddings would coincide with the feast that followed the slaughtering, as celebrations always do.

  In the meantime, Sigurd built a new door for the barn and butchered the animals we had lost in the storm. He divided the meat into parcels which Gunner and Hagen distributed among our freemen in exchange for some of their grains. Then Sigurd set to work on the oaks, turning them into logs for burning. All day long one could hear him hacking away tirelessly with his ax.

  It became obvious during this time that Hagen had fallen out of favor with Vascar’s beautiful sister, for he stopped riding out in the evenings to play at tables with Vascar. I hoped he would turn to me for consolation, but he did not. He spent all of his time away from the hall with Gunner. And as we were all together in the evenings, I had no opportunity to speak to him alone. Nor did I speak to Sigurd alone. I might have brought him his noonday meal and sat with him while he ate it, but I asked Mother to go for me. She obliged me without comment. I avoided Sigurd for a reason. Since the night of the storm, I had come to believe that he wished to be honest with me, to tell me all about himself and Brunhild. I had kept myself sound since the incident at the river by telling myself that Brunhild might have lied. I had no desire to hear otherwise.

  What concerned me more now was my brothers’ neglect of Sigurd. And one morning I awoke with it in my mind that I must speak to them about it. I had no thought to be outright, but only, through conversation, to see whether I could discover the motive for their change. Or perhaps I only wanted to hear Gunner say that he feared that the valkyria loved Sigurd so that I could, for Sigurd’s sake, convince him otherwise.

  It was easy enough for me to get away. Mother was feeling ill that morning and had decided to linger on in the bower until she felt better. Guthorm, who seldom had the opportunity to lie in her arms, was happy enough to stay behind. Whispering so as not to awaken Brunhild, I told Mother that I would set about my chores, and hers as well, later, but that for now I had an urge to go off alone for a time. She looked up at me sadly and nodded in agreement.

  By this time, my brothers had already been out hunting for a good while. I imagined I would meet them on their return. Once deep in the woods, who knows what directions they rode in, but they always returned by the same path. I called out a greeting to Sigurd as I passed him, and he turned from his work to smile at me. His smile was a paltry thing these days, and I imagined that the notion of marrying me in the near future was responsible for it. If it had not been the case that Gunner desired more than anything else to marry Brunhild, I would have set Sigurd free to marry her himself.

  The forest to the south was used only for hunting, and I had never taken the path before. But with Mother indoors and the servants away, the only one who might have called me back was Sigurd—and he did not. My brothers spoke often of quicksand there, but I felt I should be safe enough—from that at least—as long as I stayed on the path. As for the wolves and other dangers, I tried not to think of them. I told myself that I was only a fearful little thing, as Sigurd had said, and that there were really no dangers at all. This sustained me until the path ran out.

  I sat on a rock and reminded myself that Brunhild wandered alone all the time. Surely her fearlessness was some part of the reason Sigurd loved her. Still, she had the Sight and her runes for protection. I strained my ears to hear the sound of my brothers’ horses, but I heard only the wind rushing through the trees. Time passed, and I grew restless.

  It seemed to me now that there was a second path—though it was not nearly so well-defined as the one that had brought me this far—leading away from the blueberry bushes that surrounded me. I considered it for a time, and then I broke off several branches of the aging berries and began to follow it, scattering berries as I went in case I should have to come back alone. When all the berries were used up, I sat down again. And as I waited to see whether I would get the courage to proceed without them, I heard the sound of voices that I had been hoping for.

  Still, I was reluctant to call out and announce myself until I was certain that the voices belonged to my brothers. As it was, the wind denied me certainty. I left the path and made my way through the trees, praying that I would not find myself face to face with thieves or frost-giants. But then I espied my brothers’ horses in the distance, and a moment later, Gunner and Hagen themselves, sitting side by side against a large rock. The trees were th
ick between us, but I could see that their faces were grave, and I hesitated for a moment thinking that perhaps this was not the time to approach them after all. It occurred to me now that they would never believe that I had come this far alone, without horse or weapon, merely to engage in casual conversation. The whole idea seemed senseless, but as I was trying to decide what to do about it, I heard Gunner say Sigurd’s name. Fearing they would notice me and think that I had been spying on them, I sank to my knees—and immediately saw that spying on them was not a bad idea. I began to crawl though the trees. I stopped when I could hear their voices clearly and, terrified by my audacity, held my breath.

  “I, too, have spent many nights dreaming of it,” Hagen was saying. “The sword alone, if it be as grand as he described it, would save us several men the next time the Roman tax-collectors come around. But we have managed all this time to refrain from even as much as digging it up to see whether it truly exists.” He laughed abruptly. “Knowing Sigurd, there is always the chance—”

  “My point exactly,” Gunner broke in. “The man is inclined toward exaggeration. Shall we dig it up and have ourselves a look? He might have offered us that much by now.”

  “What? Are we thieves? Hold on to yourself, man. You of all people. The Burgundians look to you for guidance. Should you be caught… Anyway, you will see some part of it when Sigurd and Gudrun marry.”

  “Aye, some small part, I wager.”

  Hagen shrugged. “Do not be so sure. He may be a fool, but he has always been a generous one.”

  “I disagree, about his generosity. I doubt he will pay so great a bride-price for her now.”

  Hagen laughed. “Must we start on that again? It seems we go around in circles.”

  “Do not be evasive, brother. Though you play at being as innocent as Balder, your thoughts are the same as mine.”

  “Your desire for the valkyria has made you mad. It drives your imagination to dwell in dark places.”

  “Do not speak to me of madness and dark places. Have you seen the way he looks at her?”

  “I look at her, too. What of it?”

  There was a silence for some moments, as if Gunner were contemplating this. Then he said in a gruff voice which I had to strain my ears to hear, “We are not men anymore. If we had died the night of the storm, we would have found ourselves in Hel washing weeds along with the women. The gods love those who go after what they want, as she who has some knowledge of them has said. We must prepare ourselves for battle against our enemies as all men do. What good will it do to make the Burgundians to be a kingdom again if folk will say that the Burgundians are a kingdom of women?”

  Hagen laughed again. “And who do you intend to fight, Gunner? Huns? Romans? You will have to fight the Franks first, if you take the life of one of theirs. As it is, they are our only true allies.”

  “But if we can prove to them that we had cause… The time is now, I tell you. The opportunity is here. Why turn our womanish backs on it? You have a small view of the world, brother. You are like the worm who crawls all day and never sees beyond the next blade of grass. What is one man’s life compared to the future of a people?”

  “The one man you speak of is our brother. You have no proof that he broke—”

  “Do I not? Lift up your head and look at the treetops!”

  “I lift up my head and I see only that you are a dreamer. You speak as you did when we were boys. The gold would change nothing. There is not enough of it. One horse was all that was needed to carry it back. No doubt it would save us some men or the rest of our servants next year, but then what happens the year after that or the next one? In the end, we wind up what we already are, a small tribe surrounded by empires. We have no choice but to proceed as we have been: planting and reaping, bringing children into the world, and relying on the future to make sense of the present.”

  “Worm! Does it not bother you that we are not fit to challenge anything greater than the boar? That we spend our evenings like women, content to talk of household matters? Can you be happy wasting your life so?”

  “I am happy enough as I am, thinking that I am the seed which in the future—”

  Gunner grabbed his shoulder and shook it hard. “The gods are on our side this time. There has never been such a storm before! A storm within a storm is what it was. The gods brought the storm right to our door, as if to tell us that the time is now, that if we act, they will guide us, that we have their protection. Can you deny there was a message?”

  Hagen jerked his shoulder free. “I admit, it has me puzzled.”

  “Well, then.”

  “Still, you cannot break the blood-bond without good reason.”

  Gunner threw his arms out. “I have good reason. That is what I have been trying to tell you! Do you think I am capable of breaking such a bond without it?”

  “You have not asked her yet.”

  Gunner folded his arms. “I will ask her.”

  “Aye, you have said that before. Once you have married her. And thus there is no sense in discussing this until then.”

  Gunner shook his head. “Do you not understand? It will be too late then. He will be married, too, by then, and his heir may already be growing in our sister’s womb. It must be before.”

  “What of the Franks?”

  “We can give them some and say it is all.”

  Hagen turned away. Gunner watched the back of his head eagerly. Then Hagen turned back again. “You must ask her now,” he repeated.

  “I cannot do that. The gods intend that she should be my wife. Her rune-wisdom is as valuable as Sigurd’s gold. That is why the gods sent her to me. You have seen what happens when I cross her. I cannot risk her turning against me before we are married.”

  “You must ask her now. Otherwise, I will have nothing to do with this.”

  There was a long silence. Then Gunner said, “Fine. We will do it your way. I will ask her.”

  I was already crawling back to the path as Gunner said this. I heard Hagen make a response, but I could not make it out. As soon as I was certain that I was too far off to be seen, I shot up from the ground and began to run. I ran hard, holding one hand over my mouth to keep from crying out or vomiting and the other over my heart to keep it from splitting it two. Now I gave no thought at all to the quicksand and the wolves. My thoughts were all for Sigurd. I was running to Sigurd to warn him. Somehow I managed to find the first path, and then I ran harder yet. But when I came close enough to my destination to hear the steady sound of Sigurd’s ax, I stopped myself short and, gasping for breath, tried to think clearly. As I watched Sigurd through the trees, it occurred to me that I had not been thinking clearly at all. Now I saw that to tell him what I had heard was to give him sufficient cause to slay his conspirators. I hid myself behind a cluster of trees and tried to calm myself. Some action had to be taken, but its consequence could not be my brothers’ deaths.

  I could not think. I could not clear my head sufficiently or still my racing heart. I could not stop my tears. I threw myself on the ground and stared at the mound of mossy earth before me. My tears blurred my vision and I could not bring it into focus. But I forced myself to concentrate. After a time, my breathing became more regular. Gunner had spoken of a small view. How small, I wondered, was mine? Some demon within me advised that I do nothing, that I let events take their shape unfettered by my personal desires. Gunner was right—the blood-bond had been broken. The notion of taking Sigurd’s life and Sigurd’s gold was not an inappropriate response. Had I a right to interfere? Were Father alive, he would surely say not. I could not think. And what if Gunner was wrong?—though it did not seem likely. If it was the future of the Burgundians that was at stake, did it matter?

  I could not think. My thoughts were shadows of thoughts, and I could not carry any one of them through to its conclusion. I got to my feet and began to make my way back along the path into
the forest. I walked hunched over, like an old woman, keeping my eyes on my feet. I would tell my brothers that I had heard, and then I would fall on my knees and beg them not to do the thing that had taken hold of their minds. I would snatch Hagen’s short sword from the strap that crossed his chest and threaten to do harm to myself if they did not relent.

  I stopped walking. If I told them what I knew, might they not feel compelled to do the deed much sooner? They knew I could not be trusted in matters where Sigurd was concerned. I turned back toward the clearing, walking slowly now. When I reached its border, I hid myself behind the same trees which had witnessed my discord moments before. I ran my hand over my face. It was puffy and scratched from my failed attempt to inflict upon myself a physical suffering which would be equal to my mind’s anguish. One look at me and Sigurd would know that something terrible had transpired. Nor could I go into the hall without arousing Mother’s curiosity—or Brunhild’s.

  I sat back against a tree and stretched out my legs. The leaves were gone now. The storm had torn them all away. The sky overhead was an icy blue—like Brunhild’s eyes. The calm I had desired came over me gradually, but then it seemed that I was too calm. My mind, for reasons I could not penetrate, chose to focus on the sky and the tangle of leafless limbs cutting through it. I felt weak and tired. I think I may even have fallen asleep, for the blue and the silver above me turned to gray, and then the gray to nothingness. Then the nothingness became blue and silver again, and in the moment of the transformation, my thoughts became unclouded. They were like silvery fish now, swimming though clear waters, and I was able to watch their unhurried progress without distraction. I saw what must be done.

  13

  BRUNHILD EMERGED from the hall. As if to be sure that no one was watching, she lingered a moment, looking about. Then she marched over to Sigurd, who was stacking the wood he had been at all morning. When he saw her coming, he straightened. They exchanged some words, perhaps no more than a greeting. Then Brunhild laughed, and while Sigurd looked on, she made for the path that she took each day into the forest. I waited for her to pass me, and then I emerged from my hiding place and began to follow. When she stopped to drink at a stream, I came up behind her. “I will not stand in the way of your love for Sigurd nor his for you,” I said.