And at that Gunnar was sorely troubled, for he loved Sigurd very dearly. But he said to himself: "Brunhild is better to me than all things else, and the fairest of all women, and I will lay down my life rather than lose her love."
So he sent for his brother and told him that he had made up his mind to kill Sigurd. And Högni, his brother, was very loth, and declared that such an act of treachery would bring great shame upon the land. But Gunnar reminded him of the gold-hoard, and of how all would be theirs if Sigurd were out of the way. And at length they determined to incite their younger brother, Guttorm, to do the deed.
But Guttorm, in his turn, was unwilling until they mixed for him a magic drink, which made him fierce and wild and eager for bloodshed, so that he was ready for whatever might befall.
At midnight, therefore, Guttorm crept, sword in hand, to Sigurd's chamber; but, as he bent over his pillow, he saw the bright blue eyes of the young hero fixed steadily upon him; and he fled, for so keen and eager were the eyes of Sigurd that few might look upon him. A second time he went in, and again the same thing happened.
But the third time Sigurd lay asleep; then Guttorm took his sword and drove it through his breast.
Wounded to death, the young man had just strength to raise himself, seize his good sword and hurl it after Guttorm as he fled, and the magic weapon cut him in two ere he reached the door. Then Sigurd fell back into the arms of Gudrun and died.
Then did great grief fall upon the land of the Niblungs; and a mighty funeral pyre was built for Sigurd, and his body was laid thereon.
Gudrun, his wife, sat silent and apart, her heart breaking for her hero-husband; but Brunhild, when she saw what she had done, was filled with grief and despair beyond endurance, and snatching a dagger from her handmaidens, she stabbed herself and so died.
In such wise had the doom of the Magic Gold descended upon Regin and Fafnir, and upon Sigurd and Brunhild. Nor was this the end of the misery it was to work.
Loathing the thought of life in her brother's palace, Gudrun now fled to the court of Alf, the foster-father of Sigurd, where for some years she remained, busying herself in working a vast piece of tapestry on which she embroidered the heroic deeds of Sigurd.