The Last Wife of Attila the Hun Page 12

  “What did she say?” Gunner asked.

  “‘I am no Roman. Do not kill me.’”

  “And what did you answer?”

  “‘Who are you then? And how did you come to be dressed like a Roman?’

  “She told me then that she was a valkyria, and that she had come among the poor folk of the wagons to choose the dead for Valhalla. But the Romans who had attacked them were there in the forest when she first sensed the mishap and was donning her helmet, stolen from the Romans some time back. Upon seeing her, they followed her back to the site of the attack, and a struggle ensued between Brunhild and the Roman leader. She fought him hard, but when she saw that he would overcome her, she feigned submission and let him drag her into the circle of wagons. There he forced her to the ground. But as he began to have his way with her, with the other Romans standing about between the wagons, laughing and shouting and hoping their turns would follow, she engraved in the earth a rune of great power, a fire rune.”

  “I did not know such a rune existed!” Gunner exclaimed.

  “Nor did I. But her story was convincing. I had no reason to doubt her. And there was the fire—”

  “Go on. What then?”

  “Then the flames leaped out of the wagons. And the Romans who had gathered to watch her violation ran away in fear. The Roman leader, seeing the flames rise about him, jumped to his feet and drew his sword. But his attention was divided between trying to slay Brunhild and trying to pull up his britches, and when a flame from the wagon nearest took hold of him, he bounded out of the circle of fire and went running after his fellows. It was in the course of his flight that he inadvertently wounded her thigh. The wound was deep nevertheless, and Brunhild had lost some blood. She found she was unable to escape from the flames which she had called forth to save herself. But as she lay there, anticipating death, she carved into the earth yet another rune, this one for help. And that, she told me, was shortly before my arrival.

  “I lifted her in my arms and leaped once more through the circle of flames. I placed her down on a grassy spot away from the sight of the dead. There was a stream nearby, and with its waters I washed her wound clean. Then I ripped a strip from the bottom of the tunic she wore and tied it above her wound. Then, when the bleeding ceased, I thought to distract her from her discomforts by telling her something of my own adventures. To my surprise, she showed no sign of astonishment. I asked her how it was that my words failed to amaze her, and she reminded me that valkyrias have the Sight. She had foreseen, she said, many years ago, that she would come upon a dragon-slayer who would bear the gold of the gods.

  “If I had had any doubts about her, I doubted no more, brothers, for although I had told her all that I have told you about Regan and Fafner, I had been careful not to mention the gold. Of my motives, I had told her only that I went to the dragon’s cave at Regan’s side to help an old friend avenge the death of his father. Then she said that in order to thank me properly for saving her life, she would grant me one request, and if that one request fell within her rune-wisdom, I should have it.

  “Brothers, I was speechless! All at once I could not think what I wanted most in this world. I asked her to name the runes she had knowledge of. And thus she named them—runes to bring victory in battle, to keep one’s drinking horn safe from poison, to ensure good health, to sharpen one’s mind, to soothe the wind, and how many more I cannot begin to tell you.” Sigurd laughed. Then he took a hasty swallow from his horn. “Brothers,” he cried, “I am a greedy man. I wanted all these things. And when I told Brunhild this, she said that she would give herself to me in marriage, and thus would she be at my side all the days of my life to provide for me always the very rune each day demanded.”

  Sigurd got up from his seat and approached the hearth. He sat down beside Guthorm and reached over him to touch my hair with his fingertips. His eyes were still on my brothers, and thus he did not notice the tears that were gathering rapidly in mine. “I told her, brothers,” he continued, “that my heart was elsewhere, that I would have Gudrun for my wife or no wife at all. She was quiet after that. She looked off at the smoldering wagons and pouted, as women do when they wish to have things go their way. Now I feared that she would hesitate to grant me even the one request that she had previously offered. But all at once I saw that the solution was simple enough. And I told her then that I knew of a king who would be pleased to have a valkyria for his bride, that this king was the nephew of a great king who had once ruled over more people than there are stars in the midnight sky, but that his people had been cut down, and that now his nephew longed to rebuild his kingdom. With this poor but noble king, she could put her rune-wisdom to good use. I told her too that this king was my brother in blood and would soon share with me the dragon’s riches, the gold of the gods. And I asked her, brothers, if I arranged her marriage to this king who was my brother, and thus made her my sister, whether she would still see fit to share with me the profits of her rune-wisdom.”

  I turned to look at Gunner. His lips were spread into something akin to a smile. “And what did the valkyria say?” he asked tentatively.

  “The valkyria said she would meet this king, and if he pleased her…”

  Gunner threw his head back and roared with laughter. Hagen laughed, too, and slapped Gunner’s back with his broad hand. I looked at Mother and found her looking at me. I turned back to the fire.

  Gunner jumped to his feet. “Why do we hesitate?” he cried. “Let us go to her at once. Where does she wait? How many days’ ride should we prepare ourselves for?”

  Sigurd lowered his head. “The valkyria insisted I come back for her alone.”

  “Speak up, brother!”

  Sigurd peeked up but kept his head bent. “I say, she insisted I come back for her alone. I do not know why. She would not say. She waits yet near the circle of wagons—a day’s ride from here, no more.”

  Gunner sat down hard.

  “Why did you not bring her back with you today?” Hagen asked.

  “She had yet to go among the dead of the wagons and choose for Valhalla those who are worthy. It is a sacred rite, of course, and one that she must perform alone. I dug a grave before I left, and she promised to bury the bodies herself. Furthermore, she had no horse. The horses of the wagons had been cut loose by the Romans when they attacked. And Grani was loaded down as it was.”

  My brothers fell into silence and looked off in different directions, the story of the valkyria having robbed their minds of the recollection of the gold. Then it returned to them. “And the gold is safely hidden?” Gunner asked.

  “It is. I buried it during the night at the river’s edge. It will please me to show you the spot. Then, if some danger should befall me when I ride off for the valkyria, you, at least, shall profit from my labors.”

  “And what,” Gunner began thoughtfully, rubbing his fingers on his fleshly chin, “if I do not like this valkyria? Perhaps I will find her homely. I would not have a homely woman for my wife even if she be acquainted with all the runes in the world.”

  Sigurd laughed heartily. “Brother, her rune-wisdom is no mere acquaintance. I tell you, it muddles one’s mind to think how useful she may be to the Franks and the Burgundians. And as for her aspect, think on it no further. She is a thing to behold. You will not be disappointed.”

  Gunner threw his head back once again, and his laughter filled the hall. “Let us go then,” he shouted. “Hagen and I will choose a good horse for the valkyria and ride out with you as far as the river. You will show us where the gold is buried, and then you will do as the valkyria bade and go alone to fetch her. Women have their reasons, and a valkyria must be obeyed. We will expect you to return within two days. We will save the story of your feat for the feast that we will then have in your honor.”

  “Gunner?” I said quickly when I saw that Sigurd had risen to his feet. He looked over at me, his expression astonished,
as if he had forgotten I was there. “Would it not be better if Sigurd rested one night and went for the valkyria in the morning? After all, he has only just returned to us, and what part of the night he did not spend burying the dragon’s hoard, he spent watching for the departure of the Romans at the edge of the forest.” I dared not add that it was raining and cold, for men such as Sigurd and my brothers scorn such matters. When Gunner made no response, I looked to Sigurd for help. He seemed to be weighing my words.

  “It is better to go now,” Sigurd said at last. “The Romans may yet have it in mind to come back and search for the valkyria.”

  “How likely is that?” I whispered, thinking of the flames leaping from the wagons at her command. But Gunner heard me and stepped forward.

  “Sister,” he shouted, “do not hold the man back. His quest will bring fortunes on us all.”

  Mother, who had been silent throughout, jumped up from the bench. “Wait,” she cried. “If Sigurd and Gudrun are to be married, then it is only right that we should have the betrothal rites now. It will take but a moment. Grant us that at least.”

  In amazement, we all turned to look at her. “This is no time for such matters, woman,” Gunner said finally.

  “I say it is.”

  Mother and Gunner continued to stare at each other. Gunner was holding his lips tight, breathing through his nose. His eyes were narrowed and his face was red. Mother’s face was stern and motionless.

  “All right,” Gunner said at last. “Let us have them then, but let us have them quickly. Leave out the trifles and do only what is necessary. There are more important matters—”

  “There are few matters as important as making a promise to one’s life-mate,” Mother interrupted.

  But Gunner had turned and was already stomping back to his seat. He threw himself down on it and sat pouting, with his wide chin resting on his fist and his head turned away from us.

  The rite of betrothal demands that a woman shed tears for the family she will leave behind when she sets out to make her life with her mate. But as most betrothals are joyous occasions, these tears are usually forced. I did not have to force mine. Rather, I had to force myself to keep them in check so as not to appear to overdo. I got to my feet and slowly unknotted my hair. Then I unclasped one of the two broaches that held my robe together at my shoulders and removed from the chain that hung between the broaches my key and scissors and comb. While holding my robe together with one hand, I fastened the loose end of the chain to the broach again with the other. Then I fastened the key to the chain at my waist, where it would remain until the end of my days or Sigurd’s. I used the comb to pull my loose hair across one shoulder and over my breast. Then I used the scissors to cut one long strand. I replaced the scissors and the comb on the chain. Beyond the sound of the rain beating down hard against the walls and the crackling of the hearth fire, I could hear Gunner’s impatient sighs. Sigurd had gone down on one knee and was waiting for me to hand him the strand of my hair. I looked into his eyes directly for the first time since we had all come into the hall, and I thought I saw some impatience there. But he kissed my hand gently as he accepted the strand. Gunner, thinking that the ceremony was over, got to his feet.

  “Wait,” Mother said softly. “Her hair has yet to be bound. And Sigurd has yet to walk three times before her with his sword unsheathed.”

  “Her hair, his sword. Time passes, woman!” Gunner shouted. Then he sighed and sat down again.

  Mother came forward to bind my hair, not in the knot from which it had previously hung loosely, like the tail of a horse, but in a tight clump at the back of my head so that my neck was exposed.

  When she was finished, Sigurd got to his feet and bowed low to me. Then he drew his sword and walked past me three times.

  “How lovely she looks,” Mother whispered.

  From the other end of the hall I heard Hagen mumble an affirmation, but I did not look over for fear of seeing Gunner’s expression.

  “I will return to you in no time,” Sigurd whispered. “We will plan our wedding then.”

  “Are we done now?” Gunner shouted.

  Mother nodded. I bent my head low and listened to the footsteps rushing for the door. When the three had gone, Mother stepped in front of me and took me by the shoulders. “I have a plan,” she whispered. “I know what we can do to secure Sigurd’s love for you.”

  I looked up at her, horrified. How strange it seemed that Sigurd’s love for me should be an issue. I could not remember a time when I did not love Sigurd or he me. We had grown together—playmates, secret-sharing friends, sweethearts. And though I had been speculating on the matter of Sigurd’s love since he first mentioned the valkyria, I did not like to hear another voice my fears. “What plan is that?” I asked dully.

  “Ha!” she cried. “Valkyrias are not the only ones with powers. I know of a brew which we can make easily enough. You need only to have Sigurd drink it down when he returns to ensure that his thoughts will not wander from you again. Do you feel well enough to come with me to collect some roots from the forest floor?”

  I did not feel well at all. My eyes were burning in my head, and I ached all over. Though I had long been at the side of the fire, I shivered still. And the rain seemed to fall harder even as I considered it. But in my mind’s eye I could see nothing but the image of Sigurd riding off swiftly in the direction of the high mountains to fetch the valkyria, the lock of my hair perhaps in his pouch with the decaying dwarf-dragon’s heart, near his person but far from his thoughts. I went into the bower to fetch my cloak.

  7

  GUNNER, WHO HAD never been so animated, took charge of the preparations for the feast himself. He would have invited all our freemen if that had been possible, but half of them, having lost their servants to the Romans, were too busy with their additional chores now that it was time to harvest, and as he did not like to hurt their feelings by inviting all of the other half, he decided to ask only the ten or so who were in some way related to ourselves or to Gundahar—in other words, the noblemen. These noblemen he rode out to solicit himself, and he asked each of them to bring along some small gift so that Sigurd would not doubt that he was welcome among us. Hagen he ordered to pursue the grandest beast he could, while Mother and our servants baked breads and cakes and gathered berries from the forest beneath the persistent rain cloud that hung over our lands.

  I myself had no part in these preparations, for I was by then debilitated with fever. I never left my bower, and what I know of the ordeal I learned from that distance. Nor was I able, on the second day, to take part in the feast—if one could call it that. From my bower I heard my brothers welcoming in our noblemen, but their voices, which were robust at first, became somber as the evening wore on. I expected to hear Gunner singing the story of Fafner and the gold to his guests while he waited for Sigurd and the valkyria to appear, but I heard nothing of it. And when it grew late and our honored guests had still not come, Gunner declared, “We will begin without them. I know of no god or man who would stand by to see this much food wasted.” And then I heard no sound at all, except that of spoons beating on bowls, until it was time for the guests to mumble their thanks and go.

  I was glad then to be so ill, for my wild thoughts seemed far off, as if they were the thoughts of another and were merely being advanced to me. So close to death did I imagine myself that by contrast Sigurd’s tardiness seemed of small account. I fell in and out of sleep so many times that night that after a time I could make no distinction between the two. At one point I heard Mother say, “I have some rune-wisdom and so does Gudrun. Is that not enough?” to which Gunner replied, “If Sigurd is to be believed, the rune-wisdom of the valkyria exceeds yours and Gudrun’s by far. It must be the valkyria.” And later, I heard Mother say, “They can be dangerous, these valkyrias. She will not give him up so easily. And did you see the look in his eye when he spoke of her? She put a spell on him
with her runes. I feel sure of it. Do you think you can change that? She will bring nothing but disaster to this hall.” But again, I do not know whether these words actually passed between them or whether they were only the product of some dream I devised in my feverish state.

  Later yet, I dreamed a dream which I knew for certain to be a dream, and though it was Attila’s face I saw therein, I was relieved to know my state for what it was. Attila was in our hall, seated on the high seat on which only Gunner and Hagen may sit, on which Father sat until he heard the voices of the gods calling to him. Across the hall, in the seat reserved for the honored guest, my brothers sat squirming under Attila’s hateful gaze. Meekly, Gunner asked, “To what do we owe this honor, master?” And Attila answered, “I have come to unite the Huns and the Burgundians together. I will marry your sister.”