Part 24 (1/2)

While he was still gazing on the loathly image, Regin, the cunning smith, came into the smithy. He stood by the wall and he watched Sigurd.

His back was bent; his hair fell over his eyes that were all fiery, and he looked like a beast that runs behind the hedges.

”Aye, thou dost look on Fafnir the Dragon, son of the Volsungs,” he said to Sigurd. ”Mayhap it is thou who wilt slay him.”

”I would not strive with such a beast. He is all horrible to me,” Sigurd said.

”With a good sword thou mightst slay him and win for thyself more renown than ever thy fathers had,” Regin whispered.

”I shall win renown as my fathers won renown, in battle with men and in conquest of kingdoms,” Sigurd said.

”Thou art not a true Volsung or thou wouldst gladly go where most danger and dread is,” said Regin. ”Thou hast heard of Fafnir the Dragon, whose image I have wrought here. If thou dost ride to the crest of the hills thou mayst look across to the desolate land where Fafnir has his haunt.

Know that once it was fair land where men had peace and prosperity, but Fafnir came and made his den in a cave near by, and his breathings as he went to and came from the River withered up the land and made it the barren waste that men called Gnita Heath. Now, if thou art a true Volsung, thou wilt slay the Dragon, and let that land become fair again, and bring the people back to it and so add to King Alv's domain.”

”I have nought to do with the slaying of Dragons,” Sigurd said. ”I have to make war on King Lygni, and avenge upon him the slaying of Sigmund, my father.”

”What is the slaying of Lygni and the conquest of his kingdom to the slaying of Fafnir the Dragon?” Regin cried. ”I will tell thee what no one else knows of Fafnir the Dragon. He guards a h.o.a.rd of gold and jewels the like of which was never seen in the world. All this h.o.a.rd you can make yours by slaying him.”

”I do not covet riches,” Sigurd said.

”No riches is like to the riches that Fafnir guards. His h.o.a.rd is the h.o.a.rd that the Dwarf Andvari had from the world's early days. Once the G.o.ds themselves paid it over as a ransom. And if thou wilt win this h.o.a.rd thou wilt be as one of the G.o.ds.”

”How dost thou know that of which thou speakst, Regin?” Sigurd said.

”I know, and one day I may tell thee how I know.”

”And one day I may harken to thee. But speak to me no more of this Dragon. I would have thee make a sword, a sword that will be mightier and better shapen than any sword in the world. Thou canst do this, Regin, for thou art accounted the best swordsmith amongst men.”

Regin looked at Sigurd out of his small and cunning eyes and he thought it was best to make himself active. So he took the weightiest pieces of iron and put them into his furnace and he brought out the secret tools that he used when a masterwork was claimed from his hands.

All day Sigurd worked beside him keeping the fire at its best glow and bringing water to cool the blade as it was fas.h.i.+oned and refas.h.i.+oned.

And as he worked he thought only about the blade and about how he would make war upon King Lygni, and avenge the man who was slain before he himself was born.

All day he thought only of war and of the beaten blade. But at night his dreams were not upon wars nor shapen blades but upon Fafnir the Dragon.

He saw the heath that was left barren by his breath, and he saw the cave where he had his den, and he saw him crawling down from his cave, his scales glittering like rings of mail, and his length the length of a company of men on the march.

The next day he worked with Regin to shape the great sword. When it was shapen with all the cunning Regin knew it looked indeed a mighty sword.

Then Regin sharpened it and Sigurd polished it. And at last he held the great sword by its iron hilt.

Then Sigurd took the s.h.i.+eld that had the image of Fafnir the Dragon upon it and he put the s.h.i.+eld over the anvil of the smithy. Raising the great sword in both his hands he struck full on the iron s.h.i.+eld.

The stroke of the sword sheared away some of the s.h.i.+eld, but the blade broke in Sigurd's hands. Then in anger he turned on Regin, crying out, ”Thou hast made a knave's sword for me. To work with thee again! Thou must make me a Volsung's sword.”

Then he went out and called to Grani, his horse, and mounted him and rode to the river bank like the sweep of the wind.

Regin took more pieces of iron and began to forge a new sword, uttering as he worked runes that were about the h.o.a.rd that Fafnir the Dragon guarded. And Sigurd that night dreamt of glittering treasure that he coveted not, ma.s.ses of gold and heaps of glistening jewels.

He was Regin's help the next day and they both worked to make a sword that would be mightier than the first. For three days they worked upon it, and then Regin put into Sigurd's hands a sword, sharpened and polished, that was mightier and more splendid looking than the one that had been forged before. And again Sigurd took the s.h.i.+eld that had the image of the Dragon upon it and he put it upon the anvil. Then he raised his arms and struck his full blow. The sword cut through the s.h.i.+eld, but when it struck the anvil it s.h.i.+vered in his hands.