The Last Wife of Attila the Hun

by Joan Schweighardt

  Her body stiffened, but she dipped her hand into the stream and drank again. When she had wiped her mouth off on the hem of her tunic, she turned to look at me, her eyes bright with mischief and her mocking smile already in place. “Why, you are a sight!” she exclaimed.

  Calmly, I repeated the words that I had come to say to her. She listened with her mouth opened and poised for laughter, and when I had finished, she did laugh. “What are you trying to say to me?” she asked.

  “Sigurd will marry me and Gunner will marry you,” I began in a ridiculous sing-song tone that challenged the earnestness I was attempting to put forth. “There is no way to change any of that now. But I will not stand in the way of your feelings for each other. In fact, I will encourage him to go to you. I will find a way to make him think that it would please me for him to take you as his lover. I will feign indifference to his love-making, if there is any of it. I will tell him I am not inclined toward that sort of thing. He will run to you. You will have Gunner, and Sigurd, too. I believe this is everything you wanted.”

  Brunhild’s eyes narrowed, then drifted off to fasten on something beyond me. “I demand to know what you are about,” she said softly.

  “I am prepared to tell you. I have reason to believe that my brothers, who are hungry for Sigurd’s gold, are plotting against him. They need only know for certain that the thing they suspect—that Sigurd broke his blood-bond with them in your arms—is true. Hagen has urged Gunner to come right out and ask you. Though Gunner fears that such inquiry will drive you away, he has agreed. You need only be convincing in making Gunner believe that you and Sigurd were never together. And of course, too, you must be sweet about it and not let him see you angry—”

  “You ramble,” she cried. “I have given Gunner no reason to suspect—”

  “But you have. Your affection for Gunner did not begin until Sigurd returned. It has made him suspicious. How can you fail to see? Although your words are all for Gunner and your fingers always find their way to his flesh, your eye lingers on Sigurd more than is natural when you speak to him. Gunner knows, I tell you.”

  “You’re wrong,” she shouted. She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “If anyone has made Gunner suspicious, it is you. Why, you go about with a long face and never say a word to anyone. That is the thing that puzzles Gunner. You need have only behaved as if your mind were untroubled…”

  I was taken aback. I had not considered this, but now that it was said, I could see some truth in it. “I will then,” I agreed. “But I must have your word that you will do as I have asked when Gunner comes to you with his question.”

  “What makes you think I would do otherwise?”

  “I have seen your temper. In a fit of anger at Gunner…or Sigurd…”

  She smiled again. “I will hold my tongue. You have my word. But I will want something in exchange.”

  “I said that I would encourage Sigurd to go to you. Is that not enough?”

  “Fool. He would come to me with or without your encouragement if not for the risk.”

  “Then here is something more. You spoke at the river of finding a way to be with Sigurd after the growing season begins again. I have thought it out. When we go to the Franks, I will feign sickness. I will say that I must have you by my side to care for me. There you and Sigurd will be free to do as you like.”

  “And who would believe that you desire my company?”

  “Everyone, if we are seen to converse, to laugh, to go off together in the time left between now and then. Although it will not be pleasant for either of us, we must appear to be friends—sisters, as you once said—when Hagen and Gunner are about. We have all of winter ahead of us. When the new season comes, we will have convinced them. Not only will this assure you a place at Sigurd’s uncle’s hall, but it will make Gunner believe that he was wrong to think the things he is thinking now when he sees that I do not appear to think them any longer. That you have made me see. I am asking you to play at a charade that will benefit us both. I need your cooperation, not only now but throughout the winter. You may grow tired of Sigurd. And then you may not care what happens to him. But I give you what you want most now to ensure that if that day comes later, you will stick by our bargain.”

  “How do I know that you will stick by it? Who is to say you will not forget all about it once you are free of your brothers and me and living with Sigurd on Frankish lands? And what happens if you grow tired of having a husband whose affection lies elsewhere even before your move to the Franks? What of that, little sister? For all we know, you may be the one to tell Gunner—”

  “Do you think I came by this decision easily?”

  “Then give me some proof. Sigurd and I have had no opportunity to be alone since his return. Fix it so we can be, as soon as tomorrow. I will rise early, and in front of all of them, offer to take you with me into the forest. Then go to Sigurd and tell him what we are about. When he comes to us, you can hide yourself. And when Sigurd and I have had our…talk, you and I can be seen to return from the forest together. There must be a place where a couple can hide themselves.”

  “North of the hall, beyond the pine forest, there are some birches. No one ever goes there, but—”

  Brunhild’s smile quivered on her lips. “Good. Now we have a bargain.”

  * * *

  As it turned out, Brunhild and I had no opportunity to carry out our plan. That same evening, as we were sitting down to our meal, two of our freemen came to us and announced that all winter preparations had been completed. Our servants were already on their way back, and the great feast could take place whenever my brothers desired it. When Gunner heard this news, he pushed his drinking horn aside and stared at Hagen questioningly. Hagen nodded slowly. Then Gunner announced that the feast would take place the very next day.

  But a feast the next day was evidently much sooner than what the men had in mind, for they looked at each other with wide eyes, and then one of them cried, “But then the slaughtering must take place tonight! It is nearly dark now, and the livestock have still to be brought up—”

  Hagen interrupted him and repeated Gunner’s command while Gunner sat back, satisfied with himself. The two men only stared.

  Then Mother attempted to come to their rescue. “This makes no sense at all,” she said. “Why, we will need a full day just for the baking of breads and the cleaning of meats, and the servants are sure to be exhausted when they arrive.”

  Gunner banged his fist on the table so hard that the men jumped and Mother’s hand flew to her heart. “The baking and the slaughtering must all take place tonight,” he shouted. “We are Burgundians. We are up to the challenge.” He smiled cunningly. “I will hear no more about it,” he added. Then he turned his smile on Brunhild. She smiled back and took his hand.

  The freemen bowed and promised to return shortly with their fellows and all of the livestock that had been singled out to be slaughtered.

  Gunner and Hagen pushed their bowls aside and went out right after the men. Mother snapped at me to hurry on with my meal so that we could get started on the breads. She was already laying out the grain sack near the stone slab at the side of the hearth. I had myself another bite or two, and then I hurried to her side. To my surprise, Brunhild soon asked to join us. Mother looked from Brunhild to me with her eyebrows raised. Then she turned back to Brunhild and said rigidly, “But of course you may.” It was clear soon enough that Brunhild had never worked at breads before, and I took it upon myself to explain the process. She followed my directions quietly, bestowing on me, now and again, secret looks which I took to mean that her heart was not in her task, but that she was content—nevertheless and in spite of the fact that we would have to give up the plan we had made for the following day—that our charade should begin.

  All of this left Sigurd sitting at the far end of the table regarding Guthorm and looking confused. But Mother took
stock of him eventually and asked him to clear off the table. When he was done, she asked him to go outdoors and bring in more wood for the fire, and while he was out there, to check to see that there were torches enough for the activities that would soon take place. Sigurd did all this without a word, but when he returned later and Mother began to run off a list of other tasks that he might see to, Sigurd interrupted to say that he had one of his own and that it could not wait. And thus he left us.

  When the loaves were formed and set to baking, Mother and Brunhild and Guthorm and I went outside. By then our servants had returned, and our freemen and their families were arriving with their livestock. My brothers had fashioned a stone altar near the grove that encircled our fixed sacrificial altar, and our people were gathering around it. The moon, although somewhat less than full, was high, and as there were no clouds to obscure it, even without the torches we would have been able to see adequately. But the torchlight set our shadows to dancing, and with the moonlight overhead, the entire assembly seemed to swell and blaze. It had been some time since we had gathered together with all our people, and there was much rejoicing among us, over the feast which would take place the next day and, too, over the fortunes that had come to us throughout the growing season. There was also much talk about the great storm and speculation as to its meaning. What a fine crowd we made—though of course we were a pittance compared to what we had once been at Worms. Still, there was an excitement in the air which rivaled our gatherings at Worms, and no one spoke of days gone by.

  When the order was given, we formed a great circle, and as we tightened it, we drove the livestock into the center. Frightened by the closing in around them, the animals stomped and kicked and bellowed. The children among us squealed with delight to see them in such a frenzied state. Leafy garlands, fashioned by our servants, hung around the necks of the animals, and as the animals stirred, petals broke loose and fluttered through the air like snowflakes. When Gunner grabbed hold of the first of the animals to be slaughtered, we lifted our voices and began to sing. We sang to Wodan and asked him to grant us a mild winter. We thanked him for the mead which is his gift and which frees the tongues and minds of men. We beseeched him to keep us from abusing it, and, too, to keep our memories keen and to grant us soundness for our decision-making and courage for our hearts. We sang to the spirits of wind and storm and fire and water and asked them all to take pity on us. We sang to Frig, the wife of Wodan, and to Frey, her brother, and implored them to bless the feast and the weddings that would accompany it. We sang to Thunor, to thank him for the summer grains which, except for what had been blown away by the storm, were stored now and would be sufficient to sustain us through winter. And all the while the moon looked down on us as sweetly as a mother looks down on her children when they are at play. Our voices flooded the forest. The blood of our livestock flowed down the sides of the altar—until every stone was a glistening crimson—and became a puddle which became a stream which gushed off into the forest to encircle the trees with its warmth and bring life and vitality to the beasts therein. And we honored the animals that were dying for us and who, by their deaths, enabled us to better cherish our lives.

  The shimmering light and the sound of my own voice among the voices of my fellow Burgundians soon began to penetrate my skin and to reveal the source of pride deep within which Hagen had once bade me to acknowledge. Though I had been vacillating all afternoon, now I felt quite certain that I had done the right thing by putting aside any notion of personal happiness in order to ensure Sigurd’s safety. And though my heart was broken in pieces, I felt a surge of strength stir among the fragments. I am a Burgundian, I said to myself. I am Gudrun, daughter of a great warrior king, niece of the greatest Burgundian king who ever lived, and soon, wife of the man who slayed the dragon and returned with his gold. (And it struck me that I had taken far too long to come to see how proud I should be on this last point.) I have all this to hold onto. It will sustain me over the years just as Thunor’s stored grains will sustain our people over the winter.

  When the sacrifices had been completed and a great heap had been made of the beasts’ entrails on the altar, our songs ceased. Many of the smaller children, in spite of the commotion, had fallen asleep in their mothers’ arms. Some of the older ones were resting against rocks and trees, very close to sleep themselves, and had now to be stirred into motion by their fathers. Guthorm had managed to stay awake and upright, but he was holding onto my skirt, sucking his thumb, his eyes slits in his round, expressionless face.

  The crowd began to disperse quickly, for it was very late and our tired freemen and their families would need their rest for the next day. Before long, only my brothers and a few of our servants remained at the site of the slaughtering, for the skinning of the animals had yet to be done. I took Guthorm up to the hall and sang him to sleep with the same songs which we had sung to the gods. Brunhild entered, and without a word, stretched out on her mattress. Soon enough I stretched out on mine. Mother and some of the servants were out in the hall, removing the breads from the hearth and wrapping them in cloths to keep them fresh. They were chatting in low voices, and I went to sleep comforted by their murmurs.

  I awoke early and crept out from among the sleepers in my bower and went across the hall to peek into the one opposite. Gunner and Hagen, who had surely been up most of the night, were sleeping heavily therein. But Sigurd was not with them. This was a shock. I thought I knew where he had gone, but I had fully expected that he would have returned by daybreak. It occurred to me now that perhaps some danger had overtaken him—or worse, that his repulsion at the idea of marrying me was so great that he had decided to take his gold and flee. As quietly as I could, I lifted the door, but as it creaked anyway, I did not bother to lower it behind me. The sky was already a crisp, cloudless blue, and the limbs of the pines in the distance were swaying gently. As I was standing there, I saw Sigurd emerge from the path to the west. He sat high on his horse with his free hand resting on the sack that hung from Grani’s side.

  He saw me and smiled—not the paltry smile I had become accustomed to, but the smile I had known all throughout the years before we had become strangers. Moved by his expression, I left the door and went toward him. When he got close, he jumped off Grani’s back and caught me in his arms. For a moment, he held me so close that it seemed impossible that I should have ever doubted his love. The last time he had held me in that manner was the morning I had awakened in Clumar’s hut to find that he had returned from the high mountains. His presence had seemed as much a dream then as it did now. And as I had not yet awakened from this last one, all the reality that had passed between was momentarily unimaginable. But it had passed, and suddenly concerned that Brunhild might be watching from the door, witnessing our embrace and wondering whether I had already failed at my end of the bargain, I released myself abruptly, exclaiming, “You missed the slaughtering last night. All the Burgundians were there and many asked for you.”

  Sigurd laughed. “Had I stayed for the slaughtering, Gudrun, I would have missed the feast. As it is, I rode hard to be here this soon. I left in such haste last night that I forgot to take along a shovel. I forgot how deep I had buried the gold. I had to dig it up with my hands.” He held them up to show me. “I am delirious. I must rest.”

  “Go into the hall at once then. The others are not about yet. We were all up very late.”

  “I do not know whether I will be able to sleep. I fear I am too excited.” Sigurd’s smile broadened.

  I turned to glance at the door, then I placed my hand on his to encourage him to speak.

  “It has been so long since my eyes feasted on the sight of the gold of the gods, Gudrun,” he declared. “I had forgotten how wondrous a sight it is. In truth, I spent more time than I ought to have merely admiring it. And then it took me forever to choose among the pieces which would please Gunner most. And as I sat there in the quiet of the night with only the moon for company, I relive
d my journey into the high mountains. I relived the joy, the sense of accomplishment… I learned this, Gudrun: when a man goes off to battle, he feels every bit a man. He feels a sort of exhilaration—almost as if he were more than a man, a god, almost. That is how I felt when I set off for the high mountains, and due to my triumphs there, I remained in that exhilarated state for some time after. But somehow, so gradually that I hardly noticed it, that feeling of strength and achievement slipped away from me, as it does when the battle is over and the men who have fought it have returned to their halls. I had thought this…this…sense of power—yes, that is what it is—would last me forever. I had not known how fleeting bliss is. But now, Gudrun, now that I have laid my hands on the gold again, it has all come back to me—what I did and who I am. I dread to go to sleep for fear that it will be gone again when I awaken. Do you understand what I am saying? You must think me a vain idiot, but—”

  “Of course I understand,” I cried. I wanted to tell him of the exhilaration I had experienced the night before, if only to convince him that it enabled me to understand his. But I saw no way to convey my experience without coming to the point where I should have to reveal the deed which had inspired it. “You have every reason to be pleased with yourself,” I went on. “Even the gods take pride in their accomplishments. But go now. Sleep. What you feel now will be there when you awaken because you will have this sack of gold to remind you. And I will remind you, too, as I should have done before.”