Stories from Northern Myths

by Emilie K. Baker

Then Regin crept out of his hiding-place, and drew near to the dead creature, peering closely into the dull, glazed eyes to see if it were really a thing no longer to be feared. A look of hatred came into his face, but it disappeared quickly when he turned to the youth at his side and said:—

“Bravely done, Siegfried! You have this day wrought a great deed which shall be told and sung as long as the world stands fast.” Then he added eagerly, “Have you found the hoard?”

“I did not look for it,” answered Siegfried; “for after what you have told me of the curse which rests upon it, I had no desire to touch it.”

Regin seemed now to be trembling with excitement, and he exclaimed hurriedly: “We must seek it at once, yes, at once, before any one can come to claim it and we thereby lose a wonderful treasure. But let me go alone to find it, for you would surely lose your way.” Then as he saw Siegfried wiping his blood-stained sword on the earth, he grasped the youth’s arm fiercely and said: “Do not put the blade into its sheath until you have done one thing further. While I am searching for the cave, do you cut out Fafnir’s heart and roast it, that I may eat it upon my return.”

While he was speaking, Regin’s face had lost its usual gentle and kindly look, and had become crafty and sly and full of cruel cunning. He looked now and then suspiciously at Siegfried, but the youth turned his head away, for he could not bear to look on at such a dreadful transformation. Meanwhile Regin was muttering to himself: “The gold! the gold! and precious gems in great glittering heaps! All of Andvari’s hoard is mine now,—all mine.” And he hurried away, leaving Siegfried surprised and sorrowing to find how soon the curse of that ill-fated gold had fallen on its would-be possessor.

When Regin had gone, Siegfried set to work to roast Fafnir’s heart, and when the dreadful meal was cooked, he laid it upon the grass, but in so doing, some of the blood dropped upon his hand. Wondering what taste there could be in the dragon’s heart to make Regin desire to eat it, Siegfried put the finger, on which the blood had dropped, to his lips. All at once he heard a hum of voices in the air. It was only a flock of crows flying overhead and chattering to themselves, but it sounded like human voices, and Siegfried could plainly tell what the crows were saying. A moment later two ravens came flying by, and he heard one of them say, “There sits Siegfried roasting Fafnir’s heart that he may give it to Regin, who will taste the blood, and so be able to understand the language of birds.”

“Yes,” replied the other raven, “and he is waiting for Regin to return, not knowing that when Regin has taken possession of the hoard, he will come back and slay Siegfried.”

The youth listened to these words in sorrow and surprise, for in spite of the look which he had seen on Regin’s face, he could not believe his master guilty of such murderous thoughts.

Soon Regin returned, but what a change had come over him. Siegfried saw that the raven’s words were indeed true, and that the curse of Andvari had fallen upon the new possessor of the hoard. If Regin’s face had been mean and crafty before, it was now ten times more dreadful, and his mouth wore an evil smile which made Siegfried shudder. It seemed, too, as if his body had shrunk, and its motion was not unlike the gliding of a serpent. He was talking to himself as he came along, and appeared to be counting busily on his fingers. When Siegfried spoke, he looked up and eyed him furtively, then his face became suddenly black with rage, and he sprang at the youth, crying: “Fool and murderer, you shall have none of the gold. It is mine, all mine.”

With the strength of a madman he dashed Siegfried upon the ground, and seizing a large stick struck him with all his force. But Siegfried sprang up quickly and, drawing Balmung, prepared to defend himself against Regin’s attack. Enraged now to the point of frenzy, Regin struck again and again, and suddenly, in his blind fury, rushed upon Siegfried’s sword. Siegfried uttered a cry of horror and closed his eyes, for he could not look upon the painful sight. When he opened them again, Regin was lying dead at his feet. Then he drew out his sword, and, sitting down beside his slain friend, wept bitterly. At length he arose, and mounting Greyfel rode sorrowfully away.