The Sword of Victory by Viktor Rydberg

V.
Toward the End of the Fimbul-Winter

The three swan-dises had returned to the hidden dell in Thrymheim, driven by longing for those that they left there, theirs and Ivaldi’s sons’ children: Skadi, Od and Ull. Egil’s and Sif’s son Ull who was born during the migrations and the Fimul-winter’s first years, had shot up substantially and already resembled a youth. The maiden Skadi possessed the beauty of the elf-race in high perfection. So too the two swains. All three were well practiced in various sports: awareness of runes, the composition of songs and the skills demanded for the hunt and battle. Ull became his father’s equal in skiing, close too in archery. Skadi often glided with a quiver on her shoulders over glaciers and snow-slopes. Od was quiet and melancholy, still, every now and then it was observed that his innermost disposition was quicker and more ingenious than otherwise. Perhaps he brooded on the revenge it was incumbent upon him to take on Midgard’s chieftain Mann, who behaved violently towards his mother and killed his mother’s father; perhaps he also mourned for his play-mate Frey and wondered about his fate. It wasn’t so long after the swan-dises returned home, before Slagfinn and Egil also arrived back at Thrymheim. On their journeys through Jötunheim, they had learned what had happened in the fleeting war between the gods and the giants. All Jötunheim still stood at arms, and it fought daily along the coasts.
[90]      The sword of victory was finally now as good as finished. The brothers in Thrymheim could almost foresee the day when Völund would lay his last hand on it. But during this time, he was alone in the Wolfdales. Idunn had clad herself in a swan-attire and flown north. She wanted to by near him his last evening by the Wolfsea, when he left there, engirdled by the weapon, on whose point Asgard trembled.
     When Idunn rushed through the icy space over frost-mountains and approached the Wolfdales, night had set in and the moon, still not full, shone over expanses of forests and snow. No glare on heaven was detected from Völund’s smithy —
      Völund spent the better part of the day hunting. He bore the sword of victory by his side. It already possessed all the qualities he demanded of it as a weapon; only some adornments, ingeniously conceived, remained to do. Toward evening he returned on his skis, tired from the journey, with a bear, pierced with an arrow, on his shoulders. During the hunt, he had found Grani the faithful horse-giant, and instructed him to remain in the neighborhood of the Wolfsea. Grani was accustomed to roam far and wide; sometimes he joined Mimir’s horse-herd, when it was driven up from the underworld to sun themselves. No one could capture him, but he came willingly when Völund or Idunn called him, and the only bit he tolerated was one that was manufactured by his master’s hand.
     Coming home, Völund laid branches and twigs on the hearth, to prepare the prey for his evening meal, then sat and stared into the sinking and dying bonfire and brooded on his boundless future intent and of his beloved. Firelight flickered on the seven hundred gold rings —ten dozen to the hundred — that he had hung on a cord in the hall and whose number measured the passing of time. He stepped up and on them tallied the weeks he spent in the Wolfdales, two rings for every week. Then he missed a ring — one of the two from which the others dropped. No one other than Idunn, so he thought, knew how to separate one ring from the other. She has come but hides herself from me so that in the morning when I wake, I shall see her by my side. He did not suspect that Mimir with his sons and servants were in his hall and had carried away the ring. The other one of the same type was Egil’s and had been taken by him.
     Völund slept. When he woke, he was bound — and bound so that his giant-strength was in no position to break the bonds. Mimir, the world’s protector, the Aesir’s friend, stood before him and held in his hand the sword of victory. The sons of the ruler of the underworld lifted the ‘caught-unawares’ from the camp and bore him out of the hall. He was conveyed to a mountain-island in the Wolfsea. There between cliffs his prison stood ready, furnished to forge. His smith’s materials and smith’s tools were sent to him there. The prisoner’s arms were loosened; but the bond that held his knees together was not. Only with pain could he place one foot in front of the other. It was a sinew, unstretchable and unseverable, whose knots were such as Urd ties hers, eternally inextricable. It bound not just his knees but also his galder-power. He, who dreamt of being the world’s god, what was he now!
     Mimir bore the sword of victory down under the root of the world-ash where he hid Heimdall’s horn and other treasures. The dises of Night enclosed the sword in a case with sevenfold locks and placed it in the deepest darkness. One of these dises received Völund’s ring and wore it around her arm.
      Idunn had come in time to witness her lover’s ruin. She kept herself hidden. Mimir’s men are sharp-sighted spies and undetectable, when they envelop themselves in their invisibility-caps. But when thick fog enveloped everything and before morning lay over the Wolfsea, Idunn flew to the mountain-island and was with Völund.
       He sat by his hearth, not a trace of wrath or despair in his face. He reproached himself for only one thing: his impatience. He had fashioned the sword of victory. Henceforth patience. Patience through the centuries. The gods were subject to time, they shall age and wither. Völund and Idunn shall be eternally young, as they possess the apples that get their juice of immortality from the depths of his love. Could he not immediately flee with Idunn’s and Grani’s help? No, he didn’t want to. There was the glint of a viper in his gaze, when he said it. He wanted to take revenge on Mimir, and here in his prison he could. [92] But how would he liberate himself? Eagles nested on the mountain-island’s heights; on the hearth, arrows could be forged; his aim was infallible, he could move foot before foot, capture the feathered prey and thereby make an eagle-guise. He was certain that he could free himself. But Idunn must return immediately in order to not fall into Mimir’s power. To Völund’s and her own kin, she shall convey the message that his cause not stand in the way of their happiness; he asked that if they reconciled themselves with the Aesir, they may do so, but they must keep the promise unbroken to reveal nothing of Frey and Freyja’s whereabouts. Idunn shall order Grani to proceed to Thrymheim, where he can be of use to the relatives.
      It was not long before hammer-strikes were heard from the island. Völund had again begun to work. He made everything that the treasure-loving Mimir desired, but demanded nothing in return.

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      One day Od went before his stepmother and said that he was now old enough to exact revenge on Mann, Midgard’s chieftain, that his father was hindered from taking himself. Egil was away, when this happened. Sif replied that she had an inspiration, which she said that Od was called to perform something else before he went in search of Mann. What was it? To seek Frey and Freyja and rescue them from giant hands.
       Od received this order with surprise and distrust. Sif is my stepmother, he thought to himself; she does not have a real mother’s love for me. Now she sends me to perform what has been impossible for the gods. Does she want her kin’s cause to fail? Does she want to send me into exile?

He recalled what Groa had said to him on her deathbed and went at dusk to her mound. By it, he called his mother’s name. “Wake, Groa! Wake, mother! It is your son, who wakes you from death’s sleep. Do you remember what you said that I should go to your grave if difficult danger threatens me? Wake good woman and help your son!”
[93]    From the mound sounded his mother’s voice, that Od had never forgotten: “What fate has befallen my only child? To what ruin was he born that he calls on his mother, who has fared from the world of the living?”
        Od replied: “She who my father pressed in his embrace after you has ill-cunningly ordered me to seek an unobtainable goal and perform an impractical task.”
         Now obscure words came from the grave, which nevertheless were clear in the respect that they did not criticize Sif for the errand that she laid on Od, even encouraging in the respect that they indicated agreement between fate’s resolution and the best the son himself could wish.
         But Od bade Groa sing good galder, in order that he should not succumb defenseless on the wide ways he had to endure. And out of the mound, he heard a song that awakened hope. She sang over her son help on dark forests’ deceptive paths and in nightly mists on snowy mountains, help in the whirl of eddies and on stormy seas, and loosening from fetters. She guaranteed her darling boy eloquence and wit and gave him blessing to leave.
         The wise Sif had thought a lot about the enmity that that divided Asgard and her kin. It was unfortunate for both sides and weighed the world down with untold suffering. It was true that the Aesir had offended Völund and Egil, but of course they had also been ready to request forgiveness and reconcile. Sif’s view of the future had long been blinded by the hope bound with the sword of victory that Ivaldi’s sons would overthrow the gods and themselves become the highest powers in the created world; but after Idunn brought home the message of sorrow that Völund was Mimir’s prisoner and the sword of victory was forever lost, the Ivaldi-child’s dream of greatness built on revenge was destroyed, and now Sif saw clearly how things lay. Within herself she sensed a whisper from Urd that a better revenge remained for the Ivaldi clan. The son of the violated Groa, Völund’s brother’s son, would return Freyja to the gods as innocent and pure as she had left them and do so without demand for repayment, do it as unselfishly as Völund had presented Asgard wonderful works of art in bygone days. [94]
        Sif was uneasy about the unavoidable impending clash between Od and Mann. Although a son of man, Midgard’s hero had been endowed by his co-father Thor with power worthy of an Asa-god, and in supreme danger thunder’s master would invariably save him with Mjöllnir’s lightning. But what if Od had rescued Freyja before we went up against Mann? Then of course, Thor would hesitate to lift the hammer against Asgard’s benefactor. Such thoughts had Sif when she ordered Od to seek and bring home the Vana-dis.
        When Ull heard that Od had gotten this errand, he w anted to follow his brother and take part in the adventure. He thought that since Od had to search for Freyja, that he ought to search for Frey. Sif replied that nothing had been foretold of this; nevertheless it was proper for brothers to share risks with one another. Therefore she consented to the youth’s wish. Then Od saw that she meant well.
        When Egil returned home, he led his sons to his subterranean treasure-chamber and presented them with helmets, coats of mail, and sword from Völund’s smithy. The youths would carry Slagfinn’s and Egil’s wonderful shields that could become skis, ice-skates and boats. During the days that preceded the departure, Egil let his offspring sports in which he himself was master on the playing field, and he taught them many try all tricks with which a quick-thinking and fit fighter can conquer a far stronger opponent. But of Frey and Freyja’s whereabouts, he did not say a word, probably because he himself did know where they were hidden.
         For their departing meal, Sif had prepared a wisdom-dish, with toil and secret knowledge. She could not restrain herself from placing it on the table so that the preparation’s more powerful part came before Ull. But Od, who as the older brother took of the food first, received wisdom enough when he tasted it to mark Sif’s intent; he swung the golden dish around and acquired for himself what she had meant for the younger one. Then she confessed that she was weak and had shown favor, and bid Od to never abandon or look down on Ull, who now would be so inferior to him in wisdom. Od replied, that of course the wiser he became, the dearer he must hold a noble brother. It is [95] said that Od thereafter could interpret the songs of birds and all animal noises.
        The brothers proceeded on the journey. Around the hearth and the mead horn, the nights could be spent, telling what had happened to them during the campaign.
        There was much that spoke for the giants receiving them well, since their father and father’s brother of course stood in an agreement with Jötunheim and had done the giants a great service. But the greatest caution was nevertheless necessary, because who knew what snares Loki had laid? Therefore careful attention to every omen was demanded when one approached a giant-dwelling. If these were not unfavorable, then one went forth opposite the Thurs’ gate, where usually tedious questions sauntered from grim shepherds that guarded herds of cattle with gold plated horns and horses with gold-plaited manes, and looked away at beacons on the horizon. But in the exchange of words, no one was superior to Od: his reply was such that one marveled at his knowledge or was amused by his mirth. The proverbs and funny sayings we learned from our fathers originated with Od, when they were not said by Odin.
        Thus when the brothers entered a giant-hall, it usually was not long before the threatening or gloomy face of the landlord brightened. Ivaldi the mead-brewer's descendents were invited to taste the giant’s brew. Shrewd questions were shrewdly answered, riddles exchanged and solved in competitions of wit. Od got a harp and sang of the immeasurable wisdom that fermented in the primeval-giant Ymir’s brain, of the thoughts that dwelt there, but now float around gloomily with the clouds over the creation of Bur’s sons; of Bergelmir’s journey on the billows of the blood-sea; of Hrungnir’s gallant unsuccessful fight; of the gods’ ingratitude and Ask’s sons’ impudence. Such songs opened the thurses’ hearts. They talked big about their exploits and joyfully of the inimitable trick, with which Loki plotted their victory or compensated for their defeat. No less did they praise the blessed drink, that the Deep-dales’ Fjalar had hidden under Heaven’s mountain [Himinbjörg] and from which he sometimes gave to his relatives, while the gods thirsted and Odin seldom refreshed his mind in the diminishing torrent of Mimir’s well. [96] But it never crossed the giants’ lips where Freyja and her brother were concealed. Few may have known it.
          So it went in some estates, not so well in others, and of course, the longer the brothers traveled the closer the question lay, what purpose they had drifting around in Jötunheim. After their homecoming, Slagfinn and Egil had remained put and had not further advanced the giant’s cause, and what was odder, Völund’s powerful galder-song had not been perceived of late. Did the Ivaldi sons intend to abandon the giants? All received Od and Ull more coldly and with more suspicion, while they wandered from district to district, from clan to clan, no closer to their goal. It was the worst for them in the countries of the wolfhound- and horse-giants; luckily however most of these monsters were out in the war and mainly only their giantesses at home. The young elves proceeded from their to the thus-chieftain Gymir’s estate. There, they expected success in their mission less than anything, because, with the exception of Loki, no single giant was found in Jötunheim as cunning as Gymir. Outside his fence sat a shepherd, that appeared to possess powerful strength and had an iron-pole as a shepherd’s staff and weapon. Numerous goats grazed all around on the cliffs. The words, with which the shepherd greeted the travelers, weren’t exactly delightful, but Gymir himself was friendly toward them and invited them into his spacious mountain hall. Gymir’s wife, daughter of Hrimnir, was not home, but his daughter Gerd set forth gold-horns and the host saw with pleasure that Od and Ull were captivated with her radiant beauty. When he was alone with the guests, he spoke words that, true or not, were worth noting. There is a rumor, he said, that Völund is a prisoner and the sword of victory lost. You seem to know better than I, if it is a true statement. If so, then our hope that this feud should end with victory for Jötunheim is gone. It is certain that Loki and I are quite tired with this war. The gods have slain many of our kin; giantesses wail every day in our estates for fallen fathers, husbands and sons. We have slain two Vanir, some elves and a heap of Alfheim’s calves (as he called the giants who lived in Alfheim and followed the Asgard’s flag). It is small recompense. It is best for [97] all that peace now ensues. The gods have seen that Jötunheim will not allow itself to be occupied, and with that we giants may be content. We shall get revenge enough in the future. But with peace the gods will not comfort themselves until we surrender Frey and Freyja, and it would be good if these, the seeds of this dispute, were far from Jötunheim. The gods are mistaken in their belief that these Vana-offspring are concealed deep within our wilderness. They are close to the seashore on a mountain-island in the mist-held Offoti-fjörd, whose mouth, concealed by skerries, Njörd on Skidbladnir has sailed past many times. If it is your intent to go there, say hello to my sister Götvar, who is married to Koll, and say hello to Vestar and Gnyfot and other kinfolk! Perhaps you will arrive in time for the wedding that Grepp, Jötunheim’s best skald, the oldest of three brothers with that name, will celebrate with Freyja. And take notice of the beautiful giantess that sits at Freyja’s feet and gladly wished her far from the giant-land!
         Od placed no faith in Gymir’s words, but when the brothers left, they thought it as good to follow his directions than to wander without a plan. After a difficult journey they arrived at the Offoti-fjörd, turned their shields into skis and went out onto the fog-held waters. They did not come unexpected, because the rumor that Egil’s sons were guests in the realm of giants had long since reached there, and when a lookout caught a glimpse through the mist of two armor-clad skiers, he knew who they were. Grepp and other giants rushed down to the shore, and the brothers had barely set foot on land, before Od had to fight a song-battle with the thurs-skald, who gotten a drink of Fjalar’s mead and wanted to take Od’s reputation as a skald first and his life afterwards. Grepp was quickly response-less and rushed furiously back into the hall, yelling, that the new arrivals were spies, that should immediately be put to death. But the chieftain, the giantesses and the house-folk were curious to see them, and the chieftain bid that they be conducted into the hall. This was carried out by a messenger who bore a nid-pole before him. Vertical mountain paths with a concealed passage shut off the interior of the island, and around the stronghold itself flowed a river with vafur-flames, over which only a plank led.
When the brothers entered the hall, [98] the mat on which Od stepped was pulled out from under his feet, but Ull, who walked behind him, stopped his fall. The guests’ greeting was answered with howls and barking. There was an appalling assembly within: beside giants with human faces were others with wolfhound- or horse-heads. Their giantesses were the most insolent in Jötunheim, and Götvar, Koll’s wife, put a shameful riddle to the elf-brothers, after they took seats at the drinking-table, to which Od gave as respectable a solution he was capable of. More astonishing was it to see the chieftain and his sister, who sat in the high-seats. They were both young, their faces so beautiful and in manners so noble that they could not possibly be related to their household. Od recognized in the youth his playmate Frey, and the sister was certainly Freyja. Clearly, both of their minds lay under the influence of sorcery. Frey seemed not to recognize Od and sometimes revealed an ill-disposed or a suspicious mind toward him. Freyja was preoccupied and sunken in dreams. A beautiful giantess sat by her feet, and only with her did he exchange words now and again. Grepp acted if he was Freyja betrothed, although she barely gave him a glance. More often she looked toward Od.
         If the days that the elf-brothers spent on this island may be summarized, they were horrific: from morning to evening, wild drinking bouts and obscene songs, assaults, fights and murders. The giants had obviously made up their minds that Od and Ull would not come out of there alive. The jealous Grepp sought to assassinate Od, but was cut down in the attempt by Ull. Grepp’s brothers wanted revenge, but the chieftain said that he fell on his deeds and that those who wanted to take his guest’s life may do so in an honest fight. Now followed challenge after challenge, but the two elves’ superior weapons and competence in all sports, along with Od’s immeasurable ingenuity in finding favorable conditions for the fight, gave the faithfully united brothers constant victory over their crude, poorly armed and careless opponents. During all this, Od nevertheless had time to plan. He followed Gymir’s cue to approach the beautiful giantesses who was Freyja’s handmaiden, and found her a willing and extremely shrewd tool for his purpose. She [99] attached only one condition: that Od and Ull, in the future, when they could, would work so that she got to be with her mistress forever. Finally the night came when the bothers were in position to flee from there and take Freyja with them.
         The chieftain was the first to discover their escape. The giants, lost in the deepest sleep by a sleeping-potion, did not hear his cry. Alone he hastened after the fugitives and saw them swinging in skis over the fjord, whose billows seethed in violent storms. He threw himself in the water and had would have perished in the whirling swell of waves, if Od had not rescued him and conveyed him to land. Then the enchantment was broken. Now, he was the Vana-god Njörd’s son again and in Od recognized his playmate in Alfheim. But the feelings of degradation, in which he lived among these giants, whose vices were of the worst kind, came over him so violently that he burst into tears and asked to die by Od’s hand. Od consoled him with loving words and requested him to follow them in their flight. But to this he could not be persuaded. His relations with Mo’s and Go’s kin had, he believed, placed an indelible mark on his life. He wanted to hidden forever from eyes of gods and men. After these words he returned to his secret giant-stronghold.
         On arrow-quick skis the elf-brothers glided over fields and slopes, Od carrying the Vana-dis in his arms. They had a long lead, when the Offoti-fjord’s giants discovered the loss and set out after them. The fugitives were delayed sometimes by illusions that wizardry cast in their way in the form of mountain-paths, black abysses, forest-fires, ad then it seemed that they heard the grumbling and hoof-beats from hundreds of approaching horse-giants. But such obstacles and still more bewildering also barred the way for the pursuers and lead them on incorrect courses. The giantess The giant-maid, who helped Od to flee with Freyja, was accomplished in sorcery, more than most, because she was none other than the seid-kona Heid, Hrimnir’s daughter, Gymir’s wife, resurrected from the pyre’s ashes. But she and Gymir had devised a plan with Loki, the most evil he’d ever thought up, seemingly treacherous toward Jötunheim, but in foundation aimed at Asgard’s ruin. The room that the sword of victory, when it fell into Mimir’s hands, had [100] been left empty, was now occupied by this plan. Therein was included, that Freyja be returned to the gods.
         When the fugitives could rest, Od sat and was spellbound by the Vana-dis’ face. She was silent and gentle, but gave very little sign that she understood the encouraging and happy words he spoke. Nevertheless when he said that he loved her, she got up, turned herself about, and vanished — not so far, it was she who flew in the guise of a bird with a ringing sound away over the heather. Happiness, a difficult prisoner, quickly disappeared. Shall the brothers with a badly performed mission return to Thrymheim? In sorrow, they went further in the direction the bird flew. Night came. On the mountain-slopes and in the depths of the forest lay the giant-army’s spies, and the travelers were often threateningly interrogated about their names and errands by kin of the giants, that Egil slew; but Od chose his words wisely, and they proceeded unmolested. After a days walking, guided by the voices of songbirds, they heard the ring of bleating between the cliffs. A goat herd grazed there, tended by a ragged shepherdess. In the vicinity lay a giant-farm. In the goat-herd, the brothers recognized to their surprise and joy Freyja. But she had still forgotten herself, and they had to force her to follow. Toward evening, when the giantess who owned the herd discovered that her high-born goat-girl was gone, she bridled a wolf and hastened after. She intercepted them during the night and stretched ghastly arms after Od, but Groa’s galder had foreseen this, and in her cold embrace she got only mist. With their precious cargo, the brothers reached Thrymheim and the threshold of their home.
       Once Sif, the resourceful, had heard all that happened on this journey, she said to Od: “Do not speak to Freyja of love, until her enchantment is lifted! As a virgin, possessed by no one, shall she be returned to Asgard. But for you and us, it is all-important to know if she is without feelings for you or not. This evening we shall throw a party and say that it is your wedding with Skadi we are celebrating. Act as if you are Skadi’s groom! I shall do the rest.”
        The party was held. When toward night, Od went to bed, Freyja followed him as bridesmaid with a torch in her hand. She stood there silent and sad. Od said nothing either. The torch burnt down and the flame touched the Vana-dis’ hand, without her feeling pain, since a still worse one burnt her heart. Od took the torch from her and said that the wedding was a ploy. Then he cleared her face. Still her mind and memory were under the sorcery’s bonds. — The next day, Od carried her over to Alfheim. Runes that he conveyed let the gods know that Od Egilsson had liberated her from the giant’s power.
       The same day the swan-dises made an excursion over the coasts of the Elivagor and reached the Offoti-fjörd. They noticed that the giants on the island there were preparing to leave. Njörd was out and looking around the nebulous waters. He had climbed up onto a beach-cliff and sat there in sorrowful contemplation, when swan-wings swished over his head and into his lap fell a rune-cut gold-ring. The runes, which were Sif’s, told him where he could find Frey. Njörd steered Skidbladnir to the designated place. It stormed hard, and toward the beach-breakers drifted a boat, whose oars were operated by a youth, while on the other tuft sat an atrociously-formed, intoxicated giant, who diligently filled his cup from the supply he carried and emptied it. Njörd recognized his son in the youth and went to the beach to meet the giants, urging him to fight. The giants clad themselves in their battle-guises that combined the heads of wolf-hounds with a man’s arms and a horse’s trunk and legs. As weapons, they swung curved swords. But the weapon that Njörd raised was forged by Sindri, and the monster weakened by extravagance was conquered by the victory-god after a short fight. It fled on three rumbling hooves, leaving the arm with the curved sword and his fourth foot on the battlefield. Overjoyed, the father pressed his son to his breast.
          Almost simultaneously, Asgard had thus recovered Frey and Freyja. The first fimbul-winter’s power was broken.