She was very beautiful, more beautiful than any woman who ever breathed. Her hair was golden bright, her figure queenly. When she moved, the motion of a bird was not more fleet and graceful, and her face was what you might suppose the face of a goddess would be. She wore long white robes and glistening armor, and the wings in her bright helmet were like snow. She bore a spear and shield also, for you know she was a goddess of war, and, as her business was to attend the battles of heroes, she arrayed herself accordingly.
She moved restlessly, and seemed anxious to be off, for at the top of a rocky slope was not her horse, Grani, waiting for her to spring on his back and gallop away through the clouds?
Wotan, whom, of course, you remember, stood leaning on his spear. He looked for the moment glad, for he was very fond of his descendants, the Volsungs, and he also believed that Siegmund would one day kill Fafner, the Dragon, with the sword which had been placed in the oak for the purpose, and would return to the Rhine Maidens their treasure. When this should come to pass, the gods would have no more fear of Alberich.
When Wotan thought of all these possibilities, the dusk of the gods’ bright day seemed far off. So it was with a thrill of joy in his voice that he spoke to Brünnhilde, and bade her make ready to attend the fight between Siegmund and Hunding, which, as the Robber was already hunting for his guest with fierce hounds, was sure to occur that day.
“Aid the Volsung, my brave maiden!” said the King God. “Overthrow Hunding! Hasten to the battle!”
“Hoyotoho!” shouted the Walküre, waving her spear as she sprang up the rocks. “Hoyotoho! Hoyotoho!”
On a high pinnacle of boulders she paused, and looked down on Wotan once more. “Look well, father! Here comes Fricka. I leave you to her.”
With a clear burst of laughter she sped on again. Her boisterous “Hoyotoho!” died away among the echoes.
In a golden car, drawn by two rams, came Fricka, the queen of the gods. She seemed in great haste, and, springing to the ground, stood in all her majesty before the King God, with anger in her eyes.
“I ask for right!” she began, drawing her scarlet draperies about her. And she went on to demand vengeance for Hunding; vengeance upon Siegmund, the guest, for having taken advantage of the host who had observed so well the Law of Hospitality; vengeance upon him who, from the house of Hunding, had stolen the Robber’s servant, Sieglinde.