MAKING HISTORYESSAYS ON THE FORNALDARSÖGUREDITED BY
MARTIN ARNOLD AND ALISON FINLAY

VIKING SOCIETY FOR NORTHERN RESEARCH
UNIVERSITY COLLEGE LONDON2010

© Viking Society for Northern Research 2010
Printed by Short Run Press Limited, Exeter
ISBN: 978-0-903521-84-0

The printing of this book is made possible by a gift to the Universityof Cambridge in memory of Dorothea Coke, Skjaeret, 1951.

Front cover: The Levisham Slab. Late tenth- or early eleventh-century Viking grave
cover, North Yorkshire. © Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Stone Sculpture, Universityof Durham. Photographer J. T. Lang. The editors are grateful to Levisham Local
History Society for their help and support.

CONTENTS
Introduction
rory mcturk		

S†gubrot af fornkonungum: Mythologised History for Late
Thirteenth-Century Icelandelizabeth ashman rowev

1

Hrólfs saga kraka and the Legend of Lejre
tom shippey

17Enter the Dragon. Legendary Saga Courage and the Birth of
the Heroármann jakobssonÞóra and Áslaug in Ragnars saga loðbrókar. Women, Dragons
and Destiny
carolyne larrington

33

53

Hyggin ok forsjál. Wisdom and Women’s Counsel in Hrólfs
saga Gautrekssonar
jóhanna katrín friðriksdóttir

69

Við þik sættumsk ek aldri. Ñrvar-Odds saga and the Meaningsof Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani
martin arnold

85

The Tale of Hogni And Hedinn
Translated by william morris and eiríkr magnússon
Introduction by carl phelpstead

105

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions
Translated by alison finlay

119

Introductionv

INTRODUCTIONRORY McTURK

There has recently been a welcome revival of interest in the fornaldarsögur,that group of Icelandic sagas known variously in English as ‘mythical-­heroic sagas’, ‘legendary sagas’, ‘sagas of times past’, and ‘sagas of
Icelandic prehistory’. Gwyn Jones indicated the need for such a revival,
for English readers at least, in 1961, finding that these sagas had been‘neglected not so much by choice as for lack of opportunity by the English
reader’.1 This presumably meant that at that time there were not enoughtranslations or introductory accounts of them in English. This situation
is now largely remedied. A bibliography of manuscripts, editions andtranslations of these sagas, and of secondary literature relating to them,is currently being compiled, under the title Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda,
by M. J. Driscoll and Silvia Hufnagel, and is accessible on the Internet
in an advanced state of preparation. The revival of critical and scholarlyinterest in these sagas, heralded at book length by Hermann Pálsson andPaul Edwards in 1971,2 and by Stephen Mitchell twenty years later,3 is
now in full swing. Two collections of essays—not all of them in English, it
is true—based on fornaldarsaga conferences held in Uppsala and Copen­
hagen and edited by the Icelandic-Swedish-Danish team that organised
both conferences, appeared in 20034 and 20095 respectively, and that sameteam, having organised yet another such conference last year in Reykjavík,
is currently preparing its proceedings for publication. The present volume
arises out of the Viking Society Student Conference organised by Martin
Arnold and hosted by the University of Hull’s Andrew Marvell Centre
on 28 February 2009. An indication of its contents may be given here.
1 Gwyn Jones, trans., 1961. Eirik the Red and other Icelandic sagas, xv.

2 Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards 1971. Legendary fiction in medieval

Iceland, Studia Islandica 30.
3 Stephen A. Mitchell 1991. Heroic sagas and ballads.
4 Ármann Jakobsson, Annette Lassen and Agneta Ney, eds, 2003. Fornaldar
sagornas struktur och ideologi. Handlingar från ett symposium i Uppsala 31.8–
2.9 2001. Nordiska texter och undersökningar 28.
5 Agneta Ney, Ármann Jakobsson and Annette Lassen, eds, 2009. Forn­aldar­sagaerne: myter og virkelighed. Studier i de oldislandske fornaldarsögurNorðurlanda.

vi

Making History

Comparing Saxo’s account (in Book VIII of his Gesta Danorum) of thelegendary battle of Brávellir with the account of the same battle in the latethirteenth-century Icelandic S†gubrot af fornkonungum, Elizabeth Ashman Rowe argues that in the latter account the minimisation of Óðinn’srole in the battle itself is due not to rationalisation—since the pre-battle
generation here shows marked Odinic features—but rather to a wish by
the author to present the Danish king Haraldr hildit†nn, leader of one of
the battle’s two warring parties, as a kind of pre-Christian martyr, and tosuggest parallels between him and the Norwegian kings Haraldr hárfagriand Óláfr Tryggvason. Tom Shippey gives a straightforward analysisof the structure of Hrólfs saga kraka, explaining its inconsistencies andsuperfluities in terms of its author’s evident wish to include everything
he knows, however remotely relevant. Shippey further summarises theother medieval Scandinavian accounts of this saga’s eponymous but forthe most part purely formal hero, showing the ways in which they contra­
dict and agree with each other. He compares in passing King Hrólfr withKing Arthur and finds Hrólfs saga kraka comparable to V†lsunga saga,
both in its inclusiveness and, as he suggests, in its ultimate historicity—
though this, he admits, is less easy to confirm than in the case of V†lsungasaga. Ármann Jakobsson, referring mainly to the dragon fights of Sigurðr
Fáfnisbani and Ragnarr loðbrók, in V†lsunga saga and Ragnars saga
­respectively, sees the dragon in medieval tradition as symbolic of the fear
which young people in particular are best equipped to conquer—hence
the greater success of Sigurðr and Ragnarr in fighting dragons than thatof Beowulf. At the same time the dragon, in giving birth to a hero throughits death, becomes a parental figure as well as an emblem of teenage
power. Carolyne Larrington concentrates on Ragnars saga, showing that
Ragnarr’s slaying of a serpentine dragon in order to win his first wifeÞóra is a rite of passage for her as much as for him, and that the snakelike birthmark in the eye of his son Sigurðr by his second wife, Áslaug,is a pointer to Ragnarr’s relative inferiority as a hero, since only when hesees this mark on his newborn son does Ragnarr deign to acknowledgeÁslaug as the daughter of Sigurðr Fáfnisbani. Larrington’s discussion
includes a comparison of Áslaug with the Mélusine figure of French
legend, ­another woman with serpentine connections, and an analysis ofsome of the verses of Ragnars saga. Jóhanna Katrín Friðriksdóttir shows
how Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar gives the lie to the proverbial statement,
found not in this saga but not infrequently elsewhere, that ‘cold are thecounsels of women’. This saga, she argues, under the four headings offoresight, loyalty, caution and hospitality, imparts wisdom to its audienceIntroductionvii

by conveying it through female characters juxtaposed with less than wise
males, and does so in terms that are applicable generally as well as to thesaga’s specific concerns, somewhat in the manner of Hávamál. Martin
Arnold makes use of textual criticism and modern literary theory in showing how Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani, a mysterious, loose-end figure in the older
redactions of Ñrvar-Odds saga, becomes in the younger redactions not somuch an alter ego of Ñrvar-Oddr, or a figure of death, as a personification
and reminder of the fate prophesied for him by the sybil at the beginningof the saga. Carl Phelpstead reprints and introduces, as a tribute to William
Morris and Eiríkr Magnússon, their translation, published in 1875, of thestory now known as S†rla þáttr but entitled in their translation, hardly lessappropriately, ‘The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn’. In this tale, establishedas part of the fornaldarsaga canon in C. C. Rafn’s three-volume editionof 1829–30, the hero S†rli functions as little more than a bridge between
the story of the theft of Freyja’s necklace or collar (referred to elsewhereas the Brísingamen) and that of the potentially everlasting fight betweenH†gni and Heðinn. The language of the Morris-Magnússon translation,
Phelpstead finds, is not so much archaic as Icelandicised. Alison Finlay,
finally, produces and introduces her own translation of Ásmundar saga
kappabana, showing in her Introduction that this story of a fight to thedeath between two half-brothers, closely paralleled in Book VII of Saxo’s
Gesta Danorum and relying heavily on poems of eddic type, versions ofwhich were also known to Saxo, betrays only the faintest recollection of
the tragic story of a fight between father and son which forms the subjectof the Old High German Hildebrandslied, to which it is more distantly
related.
The present volume is thus fully in line with current trends in saga
research and an essential supplement to the Uppsala, Copenhagen andReykjavík volumes. There is a great deal more in it than this Introduction
has revealed, as readers are hereby invited to find out for themselves. In
John Gower’s terms, it contains both ‘lust’ and ‘lore’ in more or less equalmeasure, whether one is thinking of its articles or its translations.
									viiiMaking History

S†gubrot af fornkonungum1SÑGUBROT AF FORNKONUNGUM: MYTHOLOGISEDHISTORY FOR LATE THIRTEENTH-CENTURY ICELAND
ELIZABETH ASHMAN ROWE

Introduction
The battle of Brávellir is one of the most famous battles of legendary
Scandi­navia, but its current use in Old Norse studies is as evidence ofÓðinn’s fickle nature: after favouring the Danish king Haraldr hildit†nn all
his life, Óðinn withdraws his help when Haraldr is an old man on the battlefield and gives the victory to the Danes’ enemy by teaching them a special
military formation that previously he had taught only to Haraldr. In medieval Scandinavia, however, the battle of Brávellir had an important place inhistoriography. Saxo Grammaticus makes it the centre of his plan for Book
VIII of the Gesta Danorum, which draws on various aspects of the myth of
Ragnar†k. Moreover, the names of men and women who appear in the firstten books of the history reappear among the combatants at Brávellir, so that
Saxo is in effect superimposing the great battle of Ragnar†k upon ordinarychronology and making the battle at Brávellir the historical turning point
when paganism is ended and Christianity intro­duced (Skovgaard-Petersen
1993, 57a). A different story of the battle was produced in late thirteenthcentury Iceland and is preserved in a fragment now known as S†gubrot af
fornkonungum.1 As Skovgaard-Petersen observes, there are two notabledifferences between this work and Saxo’s version (Skovgaard-Petersen
1987, 260–61; 1993, 57a). One is that the Icelanders whom Saxo places
at the battle have been removed, presumably because the battle takes
place long before the settlement of Iceland. The other is that Óðinn’srole has been minimised, which Skovgaard-Petersen suggests is due to‘rationalism’. I would argue that even though Óðinn’s role has indeed beenminimised, the saga author’s addition of a number of new mythologicalallusions would indicate that ‘rationalism’ cannot be the explanation.
1 Bjarni Guðnason (1982, xl) argues that S†gubrot cannot have been composed

earlier than the middle of the thirteenth century, and Wolf (1993, 597b) puts theterminus post quem of composition in the latter part of the thirteenth century. The
terminus ante quem is provided by the manuscript fragment (AM 1 e ß 1 fol),which has been dated to around 1300 (Bjarni Guðnason 1982, xxxvi; Degnbol
et al. 1989, 432).

2

Making History

Both Saxo and the Icelandic author are drawing on a now-lost *Brávalla­þula ‘Metrical Name List of Brávellir’ (Skovgaard-Petersen 1993, 56b).
Saxo enumerates some 160 champions, often adding their nicknames
and places of origin, and the Icelandic author gives a shorter version of
the same list. Debate concerning the origin of the list has been prolonged
and marked by nationalist bias from Norwegian scholars (e.g. Olrik
1894, 260–62; Olrik 1919, 182; Seip 1927; Hald 1975). However, BjarniGuðnason (1958) offers a convincing case for twelfth-century Icelandic
composition, and Stefán Karlsson (1975) discredits the linguistic arguments for an origin in southern Norway.
Once the Icelandic saga author had extracted an account of the battle
from the þula (Bjarni Guðnason 1982, xli), he set it into a larger historicalnarrative whose sources are likewise not fully understood. This narrative,
which was widely known in medieval Iceland, tells how a kind of ‘Viking
empire’ was established in ancient times. For example, Snorri Sturluson
gives a version of the story in ch. 41 of Ynglinga saga when he attributes thefounding of the empire to Ívarr víðfaðmi of Sweden (Heimskringla, I 72):Ívarr víðfaðmi lagði undir sik allt Svíaveldi. Hann eignaðisk ok allt Danaveldi
ok mikinn hlut Saxlands ok allt Austrríki ok inn fimmta hlut Englands.2 Af hansætt eru komnir Danakonungar ok Svíakonungar, þeir er þar hafa einvald haft.
Ívarr Wide-Reacher made all Sweden subject to him. He also came to possess all Denmark and a great part of Saxony and all the Baltic and one-fifthof England. From his line are come those kings of the Danes and those kingsof the Swedes who have had sole rule there.

Snorri probably obtained this information from Skj†ldunga saga, which
was the source for much else in Ynglinga saga (Bjarni Aðalbjarnarson
1979, xxxi–liv). Skj†ldunga saga is now lost, but the sixteenth-century
Rerum Danicarum Fragmenta, compiled in Latin by Arngrímur Jónsson,preserves a version of it (Bjarni Guðnason 1982, lxvi–lxx). Arngrímur’s
work has a lacuna at this point, so the absence of this passage there does
not necessarily mean that it was also absent from the original Skj†ldungasaga. The fact that Rerum Danicarum Fragmenta does say that Ívarr was
the ruler of Sweden and Denmark, which is part of what Snorri relates,
adds to the likelihood that Skj†ldunga saga was Snorri’s source here.
If Skj†ldunga saga was the first to contain this story, the time-frame
for the creation of the myth of the Viking empire would have been
2 Presumably this refers to Northumbria; see ch. 3 of Hákonar saga góða, inwhich Snorri says Norðimbraland er kallat fimmtungr Englands ‘Northumbria iscalled a fifth of England’ (Heimskringla, I 152–53).

S†gubrot af fornkonungum

3

between 1180 and 1220.3 The next text after Ynglinga saga to use thismaterial is Ágrip af s†gu Danakonunga, written sometime between
1261 and 1287, but it too does not name a source. In S†gubrot af forn­
konungum, which cannot be dated very precisely but which might bea bit younger than Ágrip, we see a change in the story: the origin of
the Viking empire has been pushed back in time, with its founder now
said to be not Ívarr víðfaðmi but his father Hálfdan snjalli Haraldsson.4
Despite this change, Skj†ldunga saga seems to have been the ultimate
source of S†gubrot’s history.5 The U redaction of Hervarar saga okHeiðreks, which is dated to the early fourteenth century (Pritsak 1993,283b), also includes the story of the Viking empire, but as it cites konga
sogum ‘kings’ sagas’ (Jón Helgason 1924, 156) as its source, presumably
the redactor of this version was not the originator of the Viking-empire
material.
The genealogy of Haraldr hildit†nn
The question of origins is clearer when it comes to the genealogy of Haraldr
hildit†nn and his relation to his opponent at the battle of Brá­vellir. Thisman is named Hringr, and by the time S†gubrot was composed, Hringr
was thought to be the same person as Sigurðr hringr, the father of Ragnarr loðbrók.6 In any case, Haraldr and Hringr were closely related, bothbeing descended from Auðr, the daughter of Ívarr víðfaðmi. Auðr was
Haraldr hildit†nn’s mother, and his father was her first husband, Hrœrekr
sløngvanbaugi of Denmark. Auðr’s second husband was King Ráðbarðr
of Holmgarðr. They had a son named Randvér, who was thus Haraldr’s
younger half-brother. Randvér’s son was Hringr, who was thus Haraldr’s
half-nephew. The source for most of this is Hyndluljóð (st. 28), whichsome hold to have been composed in the tenth century (Nordal 1944, xxiv)
3 Wolf (1993, 597b) argues that Bjarni Aðalsteinsson’s argument for a date ofaround 1180 for the composition of Skj†ldunga saga are weak, but because thesaga is a source for Snorri’s Edda, it has to be earlier than around 1220.
4 In a description of Ragnarr loðbrók, Skj†ldunga saga (75) specifies that he isthird in line from Ívarr, meaning that Haraldr hildit†nn was the first ruler of thesecountries after Ívarr, Sigurðr hringr was the second and Ragnarr was the third.
The fact that this early text reckons the succession from Ívarr rather than from
Hálfdan suggests that Ívarr was the founder of the Viking empire in the earliest
version of the myth.
5 Repetitions in the narrative of S†gubrot lead Bjarni Guðnason (1982, xxxviii)
to surmise that S†gubrot was compiled from two exemplars of Skj†ldunga saga.
6 Hringr is named as Ragnarr’s father in ch. 6 of S†gubrot (59).

4Making History

and others hold to have been a product of the twelfth century (Hollander
1962, 137; Turville-Petre 1964, 129):7
Haraldr hildit†nn, borinn Hrœreki,sløngvanbauga, sonr var hann Auðar,Auðr diúpauðga Ívars dóttir,
enn Ráðbarðr var Randvés faðir;þeir vóro gumnar goðom signaðir;alt er þat ætt þin, Óttarr heimsci.
(Edda, 292–03)
Haraldr War-tooth, born to Hrœrekr
Slinger of rings, he was the son of Auðr,Auðr the Subtle, daughter of Ívarr,
But Ráðbarðr was the father of Randvér;
They were warriors dedicated to gods;
All that is your family, foolish Óttarr.

Going back to Ívarr, then, it appears that, because he has no sons, his
empire dissolves upon his death. Young Haraldr is being brought up in
Russia by his mother and stepfather, and when Ráðbarðr learns of Ívarr’s
death, he sends Haraldr back to Denmark, where he becomes king, andfrom there he sets about regaining the kingdoms that his maternal grandfather had possessed.
It is worth noting that Saxo (Book VII) puts together a complete different ancestry for Haraldr hildit†nn: his mother is Gurith (daughter of Alf
Sigarsson of Sweden), and his father is Haldan Drotsson of Denmark.
Earlier in Book VII, Saxo had stated that Haraldr was the son of Borkar andGro, so either this was a slip, or there was more than one tradition about
his parentage (Ellis Davidson and Fisher 1979–80, 119, n. 100). Possibly
Brávallaþula had a reference to Haraldr’s mother protecting him after abattle, for both Saxo and the Icelandic saga author have an episode in which
this happens. In the Gesta Danorum, Gurith carries Haraldr away from abattlefield, at which point Haraldr is humiliatingly shot in the posterior
by a distant archer. In S†gubrot, Auðr similarly protects her young son
Haraldr by taking him away with her after the killing of her husband, butthere is no reference to a shameful wound dealt from behind.
Is the account in S†gubrot rationalised?
Let us now turn to the question of whether the legendary history inS†gubrot is rationalised. The only reason for thinking so is its reduction of Óðinn’s role in the battle of Brávellir. According to Saxo, Óðinn
7 See Rowe (2005, 301–08) for a discussion of the problem.

S†gubrot af fornkonungum

5i­mpersonates Haraldr’s servant Brúni and sows strife between Haraldr andSigurðr. Haraldr is at this point blind from age but still able to fight, andthe two armies meet at Brávellir. After multitudes are slain on both sides,
Haraldr learns that the Swedish army is deployed in a boar’s-snout formation like his own. Only Óðinn could have taught them this, and Haraldr
realises that the god has turned against him. Brúni (that is, Óðinn) has
been serving as Haraldr’s charioteer, and because Haraldr is invulnerable
to cuts from iron weapons, Brúni batters the king to death with his own
club. S†gubrot, however, does not mention any divine intervention in
the battle. Haraldr is killed by Brúni, but the latter is nowhere explicitly
identified with Óðinn; he is simply described as a h†fðingi ‘chieftain’ andallra þeira manna vitrastr, er með honum váru ‘the wisest of all the men
who were with him’ (61), whom Haraldr appoints as his general. Presumably the saga author and his audience would have known that Brúni wasÓðinn in disguise, but the text omits this information. An additional pieceof evidence for rationalisation is the reason for Haraldr’s invulnerability.
Saxo presumably gives the original version of the myth when he says thatÓðinn granted special protection to his protégé, just as he gave him a special ability to attack by teaching him the boar’s-snout formation. S†gubrot,in contrast, says that Haraldr was invulnerable to iron because his people
brought about his protection through seið miklum ‘a great act of sorcery’(56). If these were the only changes related to mythology that the saga
author makes, then it would be perfectly reasonable to describe S†gubrot
as rationalised, but in fact the saga author includes two episodes before thebattle that go a long way toward restoring Óðinn’s place in this history.
In the first Odinic episode (50–52), Ívarr víðfaðmi maliciously stirs up
trouble between Hrœrekr and his brother Helgi by telling him that everyonesays that Haraldr is Helgi’s child, not his, and that Hrœrekr ought to give
his wife to Helgi outright if he is not going to take vengeance. Hrœrekr
holds a tournament to welcome his brother back from his raiding, butwhere the other riders have lances, Hrœrekr equips himself with helmet
and byrnie and sword and spear, and when Helgi comes at him with alance, Hrœrekr runs him through with a spear—clearly an Odinic moment.
Ívarr then returns to Denmark, and far from praising Hrœrekr for taking
revenge, he calls the slaying níðingsverk mikit ‘a very dishonourable deed’(52) and says that he will avenge his friend Helgi. Ívarr kills Hrœrekr andtakes over his realm, so that he now rules Denmark as well as Sweden.
In the second Odinic episode (53–55), the historical characters are linked
to the pagan gods. Having dreamed that a dragon (his fetch) disappears ina terrible storm and all his ships have been blown out of their safe harbour,

6

Making HistoryÍvarr summons his ancient foster-father H†rðr for an interpretation. Wisely,H†rðr refuses to board the ship and talk to Ívarr in person; instead he stands
on a rock and they converse through the flap of Ívarr’s tent. H†rðr saysthat Ívarr knows perfectly well what the dream means (54):ok meiri ván, at skammt líði heðan, áðr skipask munu ríki í Svíþjóð okDanm†rk, ok er nú kominn á þik helgráðr, er þú hyggsk †ll ríki munu undir
þik leggja, en þú veizt eigi, at hitt mun fram koma, at þú munt vera dauðr, enóvinir þínir munu fá ríkit.
and there is greater hope that it will be only a short time from now before the rule of
Sweden and Denmark will change, and now a fatal hunger is come upon you,because you thought all realms would submit to you, but you do not know that it
will come to pass that you will be dead, and your enemies will obtain the realm.

Here an Eddic dialogue begins. Like Óðinn in pursuit of knowledge, Ívarr seeks
information about his relatives from H†rðr: ‘If so-and-so were one of the gods,
which one would he be?’ H†rðr supplies the equivalents one by one, but eachanswer ends with a negative remark about Ívarr himself (54–55), as in
the first exchange:
Konungr mælti: ‘Hverr er Hálfdan snjalli með Ásum?’ H†rðr svarar: ‘Hann
var Baldr með Ásum, er †ll regin grétu, ok þér ólíkr.’The king spoke: ‘Who is [my father] Hálfdan the Eloquent among the Æsir?’H†rðr answers, ‘Among the Æsir he was Baldr, whom all the gods mourned,
and unlike you.’

Twice a kind of refrain is interjected (54–55):
Konungr mælti: ‘Gakk hingat ok seg illspár þínar.’ H†rðr mælti: ‘Hér mun ek
standa ok heðan segja.’ . . . ‘Vel segir þú,’ kvað konungr, ‘gakk hingat ok segtíðendi.’ H†rðr svarar: ‘Hér mun ek standa ok heðan segja.’
The king spoke: ‘Come here and say your evil prophecy.’ H†rðr spoke: ‘Here
I will stand, and from here [I will] speak.’ . . .‘You speak well,’ uttered theking, ‘Come here and say [your] tidings.’ H†rðr answers: ‘Here I will stand,and from here [I will] speak.’

Similar questions about his son-in-law Hrœrekr, about Hrœrekr’s brotherHelgi inn hvassi and about Ívarr’s uncle Guðrøðr follow. Finally, Ívarr
asks about himself (55):
Konungr mælti: ‘Hverr em ek með Ásum?’ H†rðr svarar: ‘Muntu vera ormrsá, sem verstr er til, er heitir Miðgarðsormr.’
The king spoke: ‘Who am I among the Æsir?’ H†rðr answers: ‘You would
be that serpent who is the worst in existence, who is called Miðgarðsormr.’Ívarr becomes so angry that he charges out of the tent and leaps at
him, but H†rðr steps off his rock into the sea, and neither one ofS†gubrot af fornkonungum

7

them surfaces afterwards. Whatever is going on here, it is not ration­­alis­
ation.
Other significant additions and substitutions
S†gubrot thus minimises Óðinn’s original role in the battle of Brá­vellir
but supplies strong Odinic echoes in the previous generation. As allthese events take place before the conversion of Denmark, the elaborate
restructuring of the pagan presence might appear pointless, but I believe
it can be explained in the light of other significant changes that the saga
author makes.
These changes are curiously anachronistic. First, Haraldr’s mother is
described in such a way as to invoke echoes of the Icelandic settler Auðrin djúpúðga. Second, she is described in such a way as to invoke echoesof Ástríðr, the Norwegian mother of the missionary king Óláfr Tryggvason. Whoever Haraldr’s mother was according to the original tradition,
S†gubrot calls her Auðr/Unnr and gives her the nickname in djúpúðga
‘the subtle’ (52). Possibly it is significant that S†gubrot diverges in thisregard from most of the earlier accounts. Skj†ldunga saga makes no mention of any of Ívarr’s children, and in Ynglinga saga Snorri says nothingof Ívarr’s having a daughter and instead states that he has a son namedÓláfr (Heimskringla, I 73). S†gubrot thus diverges from Ynglinga saga inthree ways: it attributes the creation of the Viking empire to Hálfdan snjalli
rather than to Ívarr, and it gives Ívarr a daughter and is silent about a son.
If Ágrip af s†gu Danakonunga is earlier than S†gubrot, then it is the firstprose version of the myth of the Viking empire to follow Hyndluljóð andgive Ívarr a daughter named Auðr in djúpúðga. In any case, Auðr lives up
to her nickname, for when Hrœrekr has killed Helgi, she takes her son andsummons warriors. After Ívarr kills Hrœrekr, he has to retreat before her
greater number of men, and she leaves the country, taking Haraldr firstto Eygotaland and then to Garðaríki. Here we have the parallel with thestory of Óláfr Tryggvason, for when Queen Gunnhildr’s agents attempt
to seize the young prince (Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar, chs 3–4), Óláfr’s
mother spirits him out of Norway. Like Haraldr and Auðr, Óláfr and his
mother first go to Sweden. After two years, she plans to join her brotherin Russia, but on the way, they are attacked by pirates and young Óláfr is
captured and sold as a slave. Providentially, Óláfr ends up safely in Russia
after all (Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar, chs 7–8).
If Haraldr is a parallel of Óláfr Tryggvason, then the implication is that
he is a kind of pre-Christian, and this suggestion is emphasised by the way
in which he meets his end. Quite unlike Saxo’s version of the legend, in8Making History

which Haraldr is the hapless victim of Óðinn’s malice, S†gubrot depicts
Haraldr as setting up the battle of Brávellir so that he can die in combat
and thus earn a place in Valhalla. The effect is one of pagan martyrdom,
in so far as a martyr could be defined as someone who seeks a particularkind of violent death so that he or she will be rewarded in the next world.
This is the first time that Óðinn is mentioned explicitly in S†gubrot:
Haraldr declares that only he and Óðinn are familiar with the boar’s-snout
formation (63). Even though Haraldr thinks Óðinn has deserted him, hestill dedicates all the fallen to Óðinn. Presumably the logic behind this isthat Valhalla is the only desirable afterlife, so even if Óðinn has deserted
Haraldr in this world, Haraldr should still try to reach the pagan paradise.
It is Haraldr himself who asks Hringr to fight him. The purpose of thebattle is to get Haraldr a kingly death rather than an ignominious one,and Haraldr candidly tells Hringr that the Danes thought him too old andhad planned to kill him in his bath (60). Hringr apparently agrees to stage
a battle, the events at Brávellir unfold accordingly, and after Haraldr iskilled, Hringr takes great care over the treatment of Haraldr’s body andits burial, to ensure that he gets to Valhalla (361). It is difficult to knowwhether or not to make anything of Hringr’s behaviour, but the battle iscertainly not due to Óðinn’s malice.
As if this vision of history were not complicated enough, the saga author
makes a third change to the original legend. In addition to parallelingÓláfr Tryggvason, Haraldr hildit†nn is also made to resemble Haraldr
hárfagri, who as a youth vows that he will eignazk allan Nóreg ‘come topossess all Norway’ (Heimskringla, I 97). The full account of the conquest(Haralds saga hárfagra, chs 4–6) does not need to be repeated, but thefollowing passage may have served as a model for the author of S†gubrot(Heimskringla, I 98):Þeir [Haraldr hárfagri ok Guthormr hertogi] fengu enga mótst†ðu, fyrr en þeirkómu til Orkadals. Þar var samnaðr fyrir þeim. Þar áttu þeir ina fyrstu orrostu
við konung þann, er Grýtingr hét. Haraldr konungr fekk sigr, en Grýtingr
var handtekinn ok drepit mikit lið af honum, en hann gekk til handa Haraldi
konungi ok svarði honum trúnaðareiða. Eptir þat gekk allt fólk undir Harald
konung í Orkdœlafylki ok gerðusk hans menn . . . Hann setti jarl í hverju fylki,þann er dœma skyldi l†g ok landsrétt ok heimta sakeyri ok landskyldir, ok
skyldi jarl hafa þriðjung skatta ok skylda til borðs sér ok kostnaðar.
They [Haraldr hárfagri and Duke Guthormr] met no opposition until theycame to Orkadalr. There before them was a levy. Their first battle was there,with a king who was named Grýtingr. King Haraldr won the victory, andGrýtingr was captured and a large force of his was killed, and he surrendered
to King Haraldr and swore oaths of fealty to him. After that, all the peopleS†gubrot af fornkonungum

9in the Orkadal district submitted to King Harald and became his men . . . He
set up a jarl in each district, whose duty was to render legal judgements andadminister the laws of the land and to collect fines and renders, and a jarl wasto have a third of the taxes and renders to support himself.

Like Haraldr hárfagri, Haraldr hildit†nn is a young man when he embarks
on a campaign of conquest (S†gubrot, 56–57):
Haraldr var þá fimmtán vetra, er hann var til ríkis tekinn . . . Hann eignaðisk
með orrostum ok hernaði †ll þau ríki, er átt hafði Ívarr konungr, ok því meira,at engi konungr var sá í Danm†rk eða Svíþjóð, at eigi gyldi honum skatt, ok
allir gerðusk hans menn . . . Hann setti konunga ok jarla ok lét sér skatta gjalda.
Haraldr was fifteen when he was accepted as ruler . . . With battles and raids hecame to possess all those realms that King Ívarr had possessed, and more than
that: there was no king in Denmark or Sweden who did not pay him a tax, andall became his men . . . He set up kings and jarls and had them pay taxes to him.

A further parallel between Haraldr hárfagri and Haraldr hildit†nn emerges
at the end of their reigns. In his old age, Haraldr hárfagri elevates Eiríkrblóðøx to the rank of king, but soon Haraldr’s other sons have claimed
parts of Norway for themselves (Haralds saga hárfagra, ch. 41). Haraldr
hildit†nn’s realm is also divided when he is advanced in years: he makes
Hringr king of Uppsala and gives him the government of all Sweden andwest Gautland, but he retains the rule of Denmark and east Gautland for
himself (58).
The late thirteenth-century political context
What are we to make of this multi-layered history, in which Iceland and two
different Norwegian kings are projected onto a figure from legendary Denmark? We might look to the saga’s contemporary political context in searchof an interpretation, but it is not possible to date S†gubrot with any accuracy.
All we know is that it is earlier than the manuscript from around 1300 inwhich it is preserved, and that its style suggests a date of after 1250 (BjarniGuðnason 1982, xl). Possibly relevant is the fact that Ragnars saga loðbrókar, which is also dated to the second half of the thirteenth century(McTurk 1977, 568), shares with S†gubrot a negative depiction of theSwedes. In Ragnars saga, King Eysteinn of Sweden is described as illgjarn‘wicked, ill-natured’ (Ragnars saga loðbrókar, 242), and the Swedish
people worship the cow Síbilia, who is characterised by svá mikill djöfuls
kraftr ‘such great power of the devil’ (Ragnars saga loðbrókar, 242). In
S†gubrot, of course, the Swedish Ívarr acts like Óðinn and is literally said tobe an evil monster. As King Hákon Magnússon of Norway (r. 1299–1319)
betrothed his infant daughter to the duke of Sweden in 1302, the negative10

Making History

characterisation of the Swedes suggests that S†gubrot was written before
this turn of events. Conversely, Þáttr af Ragnars sonum, which is believed
to date from the early fourteenth century, rehabilitates the Swedes in its
version of the legend of Ragnarr loðbrók (Rowe 2009, 356–57).
However, the contemporary political context does not suggest any reasons
why the Swedes should be depicted in this way. Hákon sought good relations
with Sweden well before 1302, and his father, Magnús lagabœtir (r. 1263–80),
had worked constructively with his Swedish counterpart, Valdemar Birgisson(r. 1275–90), to define the border between Norway and Sweden for the firsttime. We are forced to conclude that just as the author of S†gubrot is notparticularly interested in Danish-Swedish history for its own sake, neither
is he particularly interested in using the legendary past as a mirror of thepresent.
The cultural context
One thing that is clear is the saga author’s antiquarian bent. Mythologicalpoetry is one of his interests; in addition to his use of Brávallaþula andHyndluljóð, he may have been drawing on a poem that is now lost forthe dialogue between Ívarr and H†rðr, as was suggested by Cleasby and
Vigfusson, who in their citation of the use of the word helgráðr ‘voracity
betokening death’ state that it is found in a paraphrase of a poem (Cleasby
and Vigfusson 1957, 255a). Just as a metrical þula underlies the account of
the battle of Brávellir, extensive alliteration in this passage suggests that it
was drawn from a verse source.8 If a lost poem was not the source for this
dialogue, then the author would seem to be playing with Eddic conventions. Poems about attempts to win knowledge—especially knowledge
regarding identities—from reluctant seers include Hyndluljóð and Baldrs
draumar, and Grímnismál contains two instances of a phrase very similar
to the central phrase of the dialogue in S†gubrot (e.g. Hverr er Hálfdan
snjalli með Ásum? ‘Who is Hálfdan the Eloquent among the Æsir?’) In
st. 49 of Grímnismál it appears as Grímni mic héto at Geirraðar, en . . .
G†ndlir ok Hárbarðr með goðom ‘They called me Grímnir at Geirrøð’s[hall], but . . . [they called me] G†ndlir and Hárbarðr among the gods’(Edda, 67). In st. 54 it appears as hétomc Þundr fyr þat . . . Gautr ok Iálcr
8 Alliteration appears in the following phrases: Hér mun ek standa ok heðan

segja (54), Hverr er Hálfdan snjalli með Ásum (54), Hverr var Hrœrekr með Ásum(55), Hann var Hœnir, er hræddastr var Ása (55), Hverr var Helgi inn hvassi meðÁsum (55), Hann var Hermóðr, er bazt var hugaðr (55), Heimdallr var hann, er
heimskastr var allra Ása (55), Hverr em ek með Ásum (55), Muntu vera ormr sá,
sem verstr er til, er heitir Miðgarðsormr (55) and þrúðna þursinn (55).

S†gubrot af fornkonungum11með goðom ‘Before that they called me Þundr . . . [Before that they calledme] Gautr and Iálcr among the gods’ (Edda, 68). Even the disappearanceof Ívarr and H†rðr into the sea—sá þat síðast til konungs ok Harðar, athvárrgi kom upp síðan ‘the last that [the watchmen on the king’s ship] sawof the king and H†rðr [was] that neither of them came up later’ (55)—isreminiscent of Eddic interlocutors who sink down into the earth after they
have finished speaking, as in V†luspá and Helreið Brynhildar.
Brávallaþula and Hyndluljóð may perhaps be considered old lore to somedegree, but the saga author includes younger sources as well, for in his
description of the young Ragnarr loðbrók, there is a digression regarding
Ragnarr’s descent from Álfr gamli (70):Hann [Ragnarr] var allra þeira manna mestr ok fríðastr, er menn hefði sét, ok
var hann líkr móður sinni ásýndar ok í hennar ætt at sjá, því at þat er kunnigt
í †llum fornum frás†gnum um þat fólk, er Álfar hétu, at þat var miklu fríðara
en engi †nnur mannkind á Norðrl†ndum, því at allt foreldri Álfhildar, móður
hans, ok allr ættbálkr var kominn frá Álfi gamla. Þat váru þá kallaðar Álfaættir. Af honum tóku n†fn þær tvær meginár, er elfr heitir hvártveggi síðan.
Ñnnur skildi ríki hans af Gautlandi, var sú fyrir því k†lluð Gautelfr, en †nnur
fell af því landi, er nú heitir Raumaríki, ok heitir sú Raumelfr.
He [Ragnarr] was the tallest and handsomest of all the men that people had
seen, and he was like his mother in appearance and clearly from her lineage,
because it is known in all the old accounts about the people who are calledÁlfar that they are much handsomer than any other kind of men in the northernlands, because all of his mother Álfhildr’s ancestors and that entire part of his
family was descended from Álfr the Old. It was called the lineage of elves
then. From him those two major rivers—each of which has been named Álfr[Elbe] ever since—took their names. One divided his realm from Gautland;
this one was for that reason called Gautelfr, but the other flowed out of thecountry that is now called Raumaríki, and this one is called Raumelfr.

Bjarni Guðnason (1982, xli) supposes that this material is drawn from some
redaction of Ragnars saga loðbrókar, but a version of it is also found at
the beginning of Þorsteins saga Víkingssonar (1):Hann [Álfr inn gamli] réð fyrir því ríki, er liggr í milli á tveggja. Þær tóku nafn af
honum, ok var kölluð elfr hvártveggi. Var sú kölluð Gautelfr, er fyrir sunnan var
við land Gauta konungs ok skildi við Gautland. En sú var kölluð Raumelfr, er
fyrir norðan var ok kennd var við Raum konung. Ríki þat var kallat Raumaríki.
Þat váru kallaðir Álfheimar, er Álfr konungr réð fyrir, en þat folk er allt álfakyns,
er af honum er komit. Váru þat fríðari menn en aðrar þjóðir næst risafólki.
He [Álfr the Old] ruled over the realm that lies between them. These [rivers] took
their names from him, and each of the two was called elfr [Elbe]. The one that was
south of the land of King Gauti and formed the border with Gautland was called
Gautelfr. And the one that was to the north and was known by King Raumr’s name

Making History12

was called Raumelfr. That realm was called Raumaríki. The one that King Álfrruled over was called Álfheimar, and the people who are descended from him
are all of elfkind. Those were the most handsome people after the giant folk.

Þorsteins saga Víkingssonar seems to have been composed approximately
between 1280 and 1290 (Rowe 2004, 151–52), and the phrase í †llum
fornum frás†gnum um þat fólk, er Álfar hétu ‘in all the old accounts about
the people who are called Álfar’, which is present in S†gubrot but absent
in Þorsteins saga Víkingssonar, suggests that the former was borrowing
from the latter, if they were not both drawing on a common exemplar. A
similar phrase—sem segir í †llum fornum s†gum ‘as it says in all the oldsagas’ (65)—indicates that the author of S†gubrot was using material froma number of sources. It also implies that S†gubrot is not an ‘old saga’ itself.
Guðrún Nordal observes that in the thirteenth century, Icelandic poets andhistorians changed their focus from Danish myths and legends to Norwegian ones. This happened not only because the new political situation ofsubmission to Norway lent ‘weight and appeal’ to Norwegian material(Nordal 2001, 326) but also because Denmark had ceased to be a market for
Icelandic literary products. By around 1300, Icelandic textual culture functioned within a Norwegian milieu. S†gubrot exemplifies this transition,
for although the subject of the narrative is East Norse legendary history,
the Danes and Swedes who figure in it are given West Norse alter egos.
Conclusion
Bjarni Guðnason (1982, xli) regards S†gubrot as a rewriting and expansion of
Skj†ldunga saga that was carried out in the second half of the thirteenth century as a result of the same cultural impulses that gave rise to the fornaldarsögur.
‘Breyttur smekkur, nýjar sögur’ (changed tastes, new sagas), he remarks.
This conclusion results from an analysis of S†gubrot’s style that finds signifigant influence from romance. Bjarni is certainly correct in this regard,
and to his list of chivalric inflections such as the battle descriptions andthe turniment ‘tournament’ (51) (Bjarni Guðnason 1982, xxxix–xl) one
could also add Hrœrekr’s dream of a hlébarðr ‘leopard’ (50).9 Nonetheless,although S†gubrot does reflect the cultural milieu of late thirteenth-century
Iceland, changed tastes alone cannot account for the saga author’s otherreworkings of his source material. What would explain the omissionof Óðinn from so much of the story, when Óðinn’s role is left intact in
9 Bjarni Guðnason (1982, xl) suggests that although Þiðriks saga af Bern may

have served as a model in this regard, most probably general influence fromromance is at work here.

S†gubrot af fornkonungum

13V†lsunga saga, which cannot be more than a few decades older?10 Indeed,
what would explain the intrusion of Odinic motifs into the borrowings
from romance? In the tournament referred to above, for example, a grimand incongruous note is struck by the contrast between the chivalric Helgi,
who jousts með burtst†ng ‘with a lance’ (51), and his brother Hrœrekr,
who equips himself unromantically with a helmet, byrnie, sword and spear.
When the saga author has Hrœrekr run Helgi through with his spear, heis clearly doing something more than bringing the weaponry up to date.
It is important to remember that the text of S†gubrot is fragmentary, so a
unified interpretation is not justifiable. It is also quite likely that what thesaga author does is largely dictated by the pre-existing legends, from which
he simply cannot stray very far. He can pursue the legend in this directionor that according to a genealogical framework that probably ­offers somescope for modification, and he can give a particular emphasis to specificepisodes, but the overall action (Haraldr and Hringr fight, Haraldr is killed,
Hringr fathers Ragnarr) is probably not mutable. Nonetheless, a partial
interpretation may be ventured upon.
Haraldr hildit†nn seems to be attracting two sets of parallels: one
with Haraldr hárfagri, and the other with Óláfr Tryggvason. With theformer, there is then an allusion to a specifically Norwegian traditionof empire-building. Even though Haraldr hildit†nn’s father was Danish
and the dissolved empire he reconstructs was a Swedish creation, making Haraldr hildit†nn into a prefiguration of Haraldr hárfagri endows
Norwegian empire-building with an authoritative, ancient prehistory thatis not surprising in a text compiled in the late thirteenth century, when
Norwegian power encompassed Greenland, Iceland, Orkney, the Færoes
and the Shetland Islands. The parallels with Óláfr Tryggvason turn
Haraldr into a kind of pagan martyr, a person whose goal is to die in sucha way as to enter his version of heaven. This might explain why Óðinn’srole is diminished with respect to Haraldr, for if Haraldr is to be castas a pre-Christian martyr, he should not also be depicted as a devoted
worshipper of the foremost of the pagan gods. However, Óðinn’s role in
the original legend of the battle of Brávellir, to stir up emnity between
family members, does not disappear from the narrative but is displaced tothe previous generation, when Ívarr víðfaðmi maliciously induces Hrœrekr
to kill his brother. The Odinisation of Ívarr, the previous pagan king,fits into the usual pattern in which an old, unredeemed generation iscontrasted with a new generation that is either pre-Christian or ready for
10 Finch (1993, 711a) dates V†lsunga saga to no later than around 1260–1270.

Making History

14

conversion.11 Possibly this is a nested typology, in which the pagan age
itself is divided into an evil old half and a less evil new half, but more
likely it represents a multi-stage development towards Christianity, inthat the oldest generation is suggested to be the pagan gods reborn, thenext generation hopes only to attain the best afterlife, and the accountof the third generation opens with ominous references to sacrifices andepidemics in Norway (71):Þá er Sigurðr hringr var gamall, var þat á einu hausti, er hann hafði riðit um ríki
sitt, Gautland vestra, at dœma m†nnum landsl†g, ok þá kómu í móti honum
Gandálfssynir, mágar hans, ok báðu, at hann mundi veita þeim lið at ríða á
hendr þeim konungi, er Eysteinn het, er því ríki réð, er þá hétu Vestmarar, en
nú heitir Vestfold. Þá váru h†fð blót í Skíringssal, er til var sótt um alla Víkina.
When Sigurðr hringr was old, it happened one autumn, when he was riding aroundhis realm, West Gautland, to pass sentences on people according to the laws of
the land, his kinsmen, the sons of Gandálfr, came up to him and asked him to givethem a party of men with which to ride against a king who was named Eysteinn,
who ruled the realm that was then called Vestmarr but is now called Vestfold.
Sacrifices had been held in Skíringssalr, as there was sickness all across Víkin.

The fragment breaks off at this point, but possibly the saga would havegone on to tell how active pagan practices were eradicated.
The demonising of the Swedish Ívarr víðfaðmi suggests a time of composition roughly that of Ragnars saga loðbrókar, before 1300, when the kingof Norway betrothed his daughter to the duke of Sweden. However, theauthor of S†gubrot seems to be less interested in using legendary Scandinavia as a mirror of the present than he is in using legendary Scandinavia
as a vehicle for exploring Icelandic-Norwegian relations. The analysis
presented here begins with the battle of Brávellir, but the changes that thesaga author makes to his account of that battle are the logical developmentof the changes that he made earlier in the narrative. First Ívarr víðfaðmi
is Odinised, and then Auðr and Haraldr hildit†nn are depicted as parallelsof Ástríðr and Óláfr Tryggvason. The saga author next omits Óðinn fromthe explanation for Haraldr’s invulnerability to iron, and immediately afterward Haraldr is made to resemble Haraldr hárfagri. Only then does thesaga author write Óðinn out of the battle of Brávellir. As Bjarni Guðnason(1958, 116) points out, of the two versions of the battle, the one in which
the battle comes about because Óðinn has sown strife between kinsmen is
doubtless the original; Haraldr’s desire to die in battle rather than of old
age must be a very young motif. Here I would add that the reason why
11 Examples of this pattern are provided by Schach (1977), Harris (1986) andRowe (2005, 68–73).

S†gubrot af fornkonungum

15

the original version had to be changed was because it undermined theparallelism between Haraldr hildit†nn and Óláfr Tryggvason.
Just as Saxo seems to have felt that Icelanders belonged at the battle of
Brávellir, the saga author too appears to think that Iceland ought not to be left
out of the heroic past. But where Saxo seems to be including Icelandic names
because he envisions the combatants as coming from all over Scandinavia,
the saga author uses a single Icelandic name to make grandiose implications
about how much Norway owes to her new tributary country. When Auðr ispositioned as the mother of a figure who resembles Haraldr hárfagri, the parallelism suggests that an Icelander helped create the very existence of Norway
as a state. When Auðr herself is made to resemble the mother of Óláfr
Tryggva­son—and not merely a parallel to Ástríðr, but a superior version ofher, one who actually succeeds in getting her son to Russia—the parallelism
suggests that an Icelander was responsible for saving the agent of Norway’s
own salvation.12 And when an Icelander crafts a saga about legendary
Scandinavia from a þula, pagan mythology, and one or more Eddic ­poems,
he seems to be suggesting that Iceland is the guardian of the cultural
heritage of the north. And that, at least, is not so very far from the truth.
Bibliography
Bjarni Aðalbjarnarson 1941–51. ‘Formali’. In Snorri Sturluson. Heimskringla. Ed.
Bjarni Aðalbjarnarson. Íslenzk fornrit XXVI–XXVIII, XXVI v–cxl.
Bjarni Guðnason 1958. ‘Um Brávalla þulu’. Skírnir 132, 82–128.
Bjarni Guðnason 1982. ‘Formáli’. In Danakonunga s†gur. Íslenzk fornrit XXXV,
v–cxciv.
Cleasby, Richard and Gudbrand Vigfusson 1957. An Icelandic-English Dictionary.
2nd ed. With a supplement by William A. Craigie.
Degnbol, Helle et al., eds, 1989. A Dictionary of Old Norse Prose / Ordbog overdet norrøne prosasprog. Indices / Registre.
Ellis Davidson, Hilda, ed., and Peter Fisher, trans., 1979–80. Saxo Grammaticus.
The History of the Danes, Books I–IX.
Finch, R. G. 1993. ‘V†lsunga saga’. In Medieval Scandinavia: An Encyclopedia.
Ed. Phillip Pulsiano et al., 711.
Hald, Kristian 1975. ‘Navnestoffet hos Saxo’. Saxostudier: Saxo-kollokvierne
ved Københavns universitet. Ed. Ivan Boserup, 79–94.
Harris, Joseph 1986. ‘Saga as historical novel’. In Structure and Meaning in Old
Norse Literature: New Approaches to Textual Analysis and Literary Criticism.
Ed. John Lindow, Lars Lönnroth and Gerd Wolfgang Weber, 187–219.
12 A later work, Orms þáttr Stórólfssonar, explores a similar theme when the
Icelander Ormr Stórólfsson is declared to have been so strong that if he had beenwith Óláfr Tryggvason in his last battle, the king’s ship would never have beentaken by the enemy (Rowe 2005, 67–68, 83–84).

16

Making History

Heimskringla = Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla 1941����������������������������
–51�������������������������
. Ed. Bjarni Aðalbjarnarson. Íslenzk fornrit XXVI–XXVIII.
Hollander, Lee M., trans., 1962. The Poetic Edda. 2nd. rev. ed.
Jón Helgason, ed., 1924. Heiðreks saga: Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks konungs.
Samfund til udgivelse af gammel nordisk litteratur XLVIII.1.
McTurk, Rory 1977. ‘The relationship of Ragnars saga loðbrókar to Þiðriks saga
af Bern’. In Sjötíu ritgerðir helgaðar Jakobi Benediktssyni 20. júli 1977. Ed.
Einar G. Pétursson and Jónas Kristjánsson, 568–85.
Nordal, Guðrún 2001. Tools of Literacy: The Role of Skaldic Verse in Icelandic
Textual Culture of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries.
Nordal, Sigurður, ed., 1944. Flateyjarbók I.
Olrik, A. 1894. ‘Bråvalla kvadets Kæmperække’. Arkiv för nordisk filologi 10, 223–87.
Olrik, Axel 1919. The Heroic Legends of Denmark.
Edda = Edda: Die Lieder des Codex Regius nebst verwandten Denkmälern 1962.
Ed. G. Neckel, rev. H. Kuhn. 4th edition.
Pritsak, Omeljan 1993. ‘Hervarar saga og Heiðreks konungs’. In Medieval Scandinavia: An Encyclopedia. Ed. Phillip Pulsiano et al., 283a–b.
Ragnars saga loðbrókar. In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda 1954, I–IV. Ed. Guðni
Jónsson. Vol. 1.
Rowe, Elizabeth Ashman 2004. ‘Absent Mothers and the Sons of Fornjótr: LateThirteenth-Century Monarchist Ideology in Þorsteins saga Víkingssonar’.
Mediaeval Scandinavia 14, 133–60.
Rowe, Elizabeth Ashman 2005. The Development of Flateyjarbók: Iceland andthe Norwegian Dynastic Crisis of 1389.
Rowe, Elizabeth Ashman 2009. ‘Ragnars saga loðbrókar, Ragnarssona þáttr,and the Political World of Haukr Erlendsson’. In Fornaldarsagaerne: Myter og
virkelighed, ed. Agneta Ney, Ármann Jakobsson and Annette Lassen, 347–60.
Schach, Paul 1977. ‘Some Observations on the Generation-Gap Theme in the
Icelandic Sagas’. In The Epic in Medieval Society: Aesthetic and Moral Values.
Ed. Harald Scholler, 361–81.
Seip, Didrik Arup 1927. ‘Den norske grunnlag for Bråvallakvadet hos Saxo’.
Norsk tidsskrift for sprogvidenskap 3, 1–20.
Skj†ldunga saga. In Danakonunga s†gur 1982. Ed. Bjarni Guðnason. Íslenzk
fornrit XXXV.
Skovgaard-Petersen, Inge 1987. Da Tidernes Herre var nær: Studier i Saxos historiesyn.
Skovgaard-Petersen, Inge 1993. ‘Brávallaþula’. In Medieval Scandinavia: An
Encyclopedia, ed. Phillip Pulsiano et al., 56–57.
Stefán Karlsson 1975. ‘Diskussion’. In Saxostudier: Saxo-kollokvierne ved Københavns universitet Ed. Ivan Boserup, 91–93.
S†gubrot. In Danakonunga s†gur 1982. Ed. Bjarni Guðnason. Íslenzk fornrit XXXV.
Turville-Petre, E. O. G. 1964. Myth and Religion of the North: The Religion ofAncient Scandinavia.
Wolf, Kirsten 1993. ‘Skj†ldunga saga’. In Medieval Scandinavia: An Encyclopedia.
Ed. Phillip Pulsiano et al., 597–98.
Þorsteins saga Víkingssonar. In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda 1954 I–IV. Ed.
Guðni Jónsson. Vol. 3.

HRÓLFS SAGA KRAKA AND THE LEGEND OF LEJRETOM SHIPPEY

In his entry on Hrólfs saga kraka in Medieval Scandinavia: an Encyclo­
pedia, Jonathan Evans remarks that ‘next to V†lsunga saga [it is]probably the best-known of the fornaldarsögur’ (Evans 1993, 304), aview confirmed by the existence of three modern English translations(Jones 1961, Byock 1998 and Tunstall 2003). Its popularity in earlier
times is shown by the number of manuscripts extant, the list of 38
compiled by Slay (1960) having been further extended to 59 by Driscolland Hufnagel (2009). All the manuscripts are thought to go back to one
common original, which may be the copy listed as extant at Möðruvellir in
1461, though legends about the hero were in wide circulation throughout
Scandinavia much earlier.
The saga’s popularity in modern times may, however, give a rather
false impression, for much of it derives from the fact that the saga is ananalogue of the Old English poem Beowulf. There is no doubt that its
hero Hrólfr is to be identified with the enigmatic and unspeaking figureof Hrothulf, mentioned twice in the much older Old English epic, though
there he plays no active part at all. Both men are said to be members of the
Skj†ldungr or Scylding dynasty, and poem and saga furthermore shareat least seven other characters. Much of the commentary on the saga has
accordingly dealt with its relationship to Beowulf, as one can see fromthe bibliographies given by Evans and Driscoll / Hufnagel, while muchof the remainder deals with single motifs, such as its ursine elements(Tolley 2007) or its ‘perilous women’ (Ármann Jakobsson 2003). Twoissues have been dealt with relatively rarely. First, the saga has not often
been considered as a whole and for itself. Second, till very recently
interest had faded in the saga’s connection with its many Scandinavian
analogues, both earlier and later.
This latter situation has, however, changed both recently anddramatically. Scandinavian stories of Hrólfr agree in placing him andhis dynasty at a place variously labelled as Lethra, Hledro, Hleiðraor (the saga’s form) Hleiðargarðr; and it has long been agreed that
this must be the small village near Roskilde now known as Lejre,or Gammel Lejre. It has nevertheless also been agreed for most of
the last century that there is no historical basis for what, following

18

Making History

Niles (2007), may be called the ‘legend of Lejre’. Gwyn Jones,
for instance, after brilliantly summing up the Skj†ldungr legends,
remarks thatof Hrolf’s sixth-century court no trace has been found. It is sad to think ofthose high lords without a roof to their heads, but in respect of Lejre that isthe case, and likely to remain so. (Jones 1968, 46–47)

H. R. Ellis Davidson repeated the point with equal assurance someyears later in her commentary on a new translation of Saxo Grammaticus,
observing that ‘there is no reason to suppose’ Lejre was of any importanceat the time Hrólfr was supposed to live (Ellis Davidson and Fisher
1979, II 46). The ‘legend of Lejre’ had in fact been written off as mere
fable.
But then the archaeologists took a hand. In the late 1980s excavations
began on the Lejre site under the direction of the archaeologist
Tom Christensen, with further work continuing to the present day,and these excavations revealed not one but three massive halls on two
different sites, dating from the mid-sixth century up to the eleventh.
One of these, Christensen notes, found in the first site excavated during
the 1980s, is ‘the largest we yet know of from the Late Germanic Iron
Age and the Viking period’ (Christensen 1991, 73); while the earliestof the halls, almost as long but not as wide, and found on the secondsite excavated during the 2000s, nevertheless ‘must be classed among
the very largest buildings known from the sixth century in Denmark’(Christensen 2005, 122). Furthermore, and reported only after this paper
was first presented and as it was about to go to press, news has comein of a third site excavated at Lejre which has produced yet anotherhall complex, with as many as three halls built successively, the largestof them even larger than anything so far discovered, almost 200 feetlong. Not enough of this last discovery is known yet for any comment
to be made on it. However, one has to say that in the current state ofknowledge, the dates of legend and archaeology do not entirely match,for if we were to go by the (uncertain) evidence of Beowulf, Hrólfr’s
period of power ought to have been the earlier sixth century, i.e. justbefore Christensen’s earliest hall was built. But there is no doubt, at least,
that—just as the various forms of the ‘legend of Lejre’ asserted—Lejre
was a major power-centre for Scandinavia before and lasting into theViking era. The question has accordingly resurfaced, ‘Ha[ve] modern
scholars been too hasty in writing off the kings of Lejre?’ (Christensen
1991, 21). And can anything be deduced from the legend as a whole,
Hrólfs saga included?

Hrólfs saga kraka and the Legend of Lejre

19

This essay accordingly seeks to do two things. First, albeit briefly, toconsider the saga as a whole and for itself. Second, to review the saga’s
connections with the other Scandinavian versions of the ‘legend of
Lejre’, but not (except for one brief lapse) with Beowulf.
The Structure of the Saga: Gaps and Failings
There is no doubt that the saga author is capable of arresting andentertaining narrative, but the saga as a whole is not well-structured. It
consists of some six or more not very well integrated units, some but
not all of them marked off as separate sections in Guðni Jónsson’s
1954 edition. I number, identify and summarise these here for future
convenience, with chapter numbers from this edition.
1) Chapters 1–5, ‘Fróða þáttr’: This says that there were twobrothers, Hálfdan and Fróði. Fróði kills his brother, and tries to kill his
two sons, Hróarr and Helgi, but they escape, and in the end avenge theirfather.
2) 6–17, ‘Helga þáttr’: This tells the story of the incestuous birth of
Hrólfr. Helgi rapes a Saxon queen called Ól†f, who bears a daughter
whom she refuses to acknowledge, and to whom she gives the dog’s nameof Yrsa. Yrsa grows up to be an outstanding beauty, and Helgi carries her
off and sires Hrólfr on her, without knowing who she is. Yrsa’s motherbides her time, but eventually discloses the secret of the couple’s incest,
after which Yrsa is married off to King Aðils of Sweden—who, in theend, kills Helgi, his predecessor.
Inserted in this story, however, are two further sequences:2a) 10–12, the tale of Hróarr’s ring: Helgi has a very valuable ring,which he gives to his brother Hróarr. The latter allows a cousin, Hrókr,
to handle it, but Hrókr throws it in the sea. Hróarr mutilates Hrókr, but
Hrókr kills Hróarr. Helgi takes further revenge on Hrókr, and Hróarr’s
posthumous child Agnarr retrieves the ring.
2b) 15, the elf-woman and the birth of Skuld: In this chapter, Helgisires a child on an elf-woman, but fails to collect the child as agreed. The
elf-woman nevertheless sends him his daughter, Skuld, and says a curse
will be laid on his kinsfolk for his breach of their agreement.
3) 18–23, ‘Svipdags þáttr’: Svipdagr forces his way into the retinueof King Aðils and has conflicts with the king’s berserks, in which heis assisted by his two brothers Beigaðr and Hvítserkr. They eventually
decide, however, to serve King Hrólfr, because of the fame he has

20

Making History

acquired at Hleiðargarðr. The last chapter of this section, 23, tells how
Hrólfr tricks Hj†rvarðr, husband of his half-sister Skuld, into becoming
his under-king.
4) 24–36, ‘B†ðvars þáttr’ and 37, ‘Hjalta þáttr’: This is in effecta fairy-tale. B†ðvarr is the son of a were-bear, the least monstrous of
three brothers. He goes to take service with King Hrólfr, defeats theking’s ill-mannered champions and rescues a man they are tormenting.
B†ðvarr then kills a dragon, and makes the man he has rescued drink
its blood, after which the former weakling becomes bold and strong
and is given the name Hjalti, as also the nickname inn hugprúði ‘themagnanimous’ for his forbearance in not taking revenge on his former
tormentors.
5) 38–47, Hrólfr’s raid on Uppsala and his return: Egged on by B†ðvarr,
Hrólfr rides to King Aðils’s court at Uppsala to recover his f†ðurarfr‘patrimony’. He and his men evade various plots and ambushes, and ride
off with much of Aðils’s treasure, hotly pursued across the Fýrisvellir
plain by Aðils. To escape, Hrólfr scatters the gold, so that the Swedes
stop to pick it up, and Aðils himself bends from his horse to retrieve
an especially valuable ring. At this Hrólfr exclaims, ‘Svínbeygða ek
nú þann, sem Svíanna er ríkastr’ “Now I ‘swine-bowed’ him who ismightiest of the Swedes”, and slices off Aðils’s buttocks. During the
expedition, however, Hrólfr antagonises his former supporter Óðinn.
6) 47–42, the Last Stand and Fall of King Hrólfr and his men:
Hrólfr is attacked at Hleiðargarðr by his half-sister Skuld andher husband Hj†rvarðr. Before the battle, Hjalti ‘the Magnanimous’,
seeing the enemy ships approach, asks his mistress whether she would
prefer two men of twenty-two or one of eighty. She says the former,
and he bites off her nose; he then goes to join the doomed battle.
After this has lasted a while, Hjalti notices B†ðvarr is not there, goesto find him, and urges him into the battle—but as he does so a greatbear fighting in Hrólfr’s ranks (obviously B†ðvarr’s were-shape)
vanishes and is not seen again. The battle ends with Hjalti, B†ðvarr andmost of the other champions falling round their king, while Hj†rvarðr
dies as well, further vengeance being taken by Yrsa and B†ðvarr’s
brothers on Skuld.
Some parts of this are certainly well told, perhaps especially section(4) above, ‘B†ðvars þáttr’. One can also see that the author has
done his best to thread items together, for instance inserting the

Hrólfs saga kraka and the Legend of Lejre

21

story of Skuld, and the story of the tricking of Hj†rvarðr, in chs
15 and 23 respectively, thus providing a double motivation aheadof time for the Last Battle. However, there are also clear lacunae,‘blind motifs’ (i.e. sections which seem to promise a continuation
but in the end lead nowhere), as well as cases of apparently pointless‘doubling’.
To take the last item first, sections (3) and (4) above, Svipdagr andhis two brothers, B†ðvarr and his two brothers, look very like eachother. In ch. 18 King Aðils’s berserks challenge Svipdagr, asking hvart
hann sé kappi nokkurr ‘whether he is some kind of champion’, and heanswers, slíkr sem nokkurr þeira einn ‘as much as any one of them’. In
ch. 22, it is King Hrólfr’s berserks who challenge him, going round thehall and asking each man hvárt sá teldist jafnsnjallr honum ‘whether herated himself as bold a man as he’ and getting evasive but conciliatory
answers—until they reach Svipdagr, who immediately jumps up anddraws his sword. In ch. 37 the same scene is played out with B†ðvarr.
King Hrólfr’s berserks go round the hall asking the same question andgetting the same kind of answer, till they reach B†ðvarr, who is asked
the usual question and responds, ‘ekki jafnsnjallr, heldr snjallari’ “notas bold, but bolder”. In chs 22 and 37 brawls break out, though Hrólfr,unlike Aðils, forbids killing. (One has to say that the nameless berserks
of both kings become rather tedious, þóttust þó á honum ávallt meiri oksátu ávallt á svikráðum við hann ‘forever thinking themselves stronger
than [B†ðvarr] and always laying plots against him’ (ch. 49), but neveractually amounting to much.) Svipdagr and his brothers also seem tofade out of the story. They are given places to King Hrólfr’s left, B†ðvarr
and Hjalti being on his right (ch. 37); they are present on the Uppsalaride, and Svipdagr even calls in an earlier promise by Aðils to buy hiscompanions temporary immunity (ch. 40); but they are only mentioned
in the Last Stand sequence, along with seven other men, named but not
individualised. Very little would be lost from the saga if the whole ofsection (3) were deleted, along with all further mentions of Svipdagr andhis brothers.1
1
Their connection with the ‘legend of Lejre’ as a whole is thin. Saxo mentions a Suipdagerus king of Norway in his Book 1, and a Svipdagr figures in
the poem Fj†lsvinnsmál (Ellis Davidson and Fisher 1979, II 28–29), but neither
seems relevant. Beigaðr is mentioned once, in connection with Hrólfr, in Tókaþáttr Tókasonar.

22

Making History

As for ‘blind motifs’, one might wonder about the whole story of
Hrókr and the precious ring. As things stand, the ring is thrown into
the sea, but then recovered. No more is heard of Agnarr, except thatB†ðvarr, close to death, boasts of the services he has done for King
Hrólfr, which include the fact that ‘ek drap Agnar, berserk ok eigi síðrkonung’ “I killed Agnarr, berserk and no less a king”. Could they be
the same man? Is B†ðvarr boasting of killing Hrólfr’s cousin for him?
What happened to the ring? Even weaker, however, is the case of V†ggr.
He is introduced in ch. 42 as a servant of King Aðils, so it is odd thathe cheekily gives Hrólfr the nickname kraki ‘pole-ladder’ (presumably
because he is tall and thin). Hrólfr rewards him, the king says (not very
relevantly), ‘Litlu verðr Vöggr feginn’ “It doesn’t take much to makeV†ggr happy” and V†ggr swears (again, not very relevantly) to avenge
the king if he outlives him, though not much notice is taken of this, forV†ggr seems physically unimpressive. The Litlu verðr . . . saying is foundalso in Snorri’s Skáldskaparmál, but Snorri does not complete the story.
The whole sequence is told much better by Saxo Grammaticus, writing
probably more than two centuries before the saga was written, where
the whole point of the story is that V†ggr is present at the Last Standand the only one of Hrólfr’s men to survive. Offered his life if he willswear fealty to Hj†rvarðr the victor, he agrees, takes the latter’s sword toswear on, but then runs the new king through with it, thus fulfilling hisoath and ensuring that the usurper becomes king only for a few minutes,
a satisfying and ironic conclusion. In the saga, though, there is none ofthis. V†ggr is not even present at the Last Stand, Hj†rvarðr is killed in
the battle by B†ðvarr, and all the saga author can say, remembering thepromise to take vengeance, is that Yrsa sends men to take revenge on
Skuld, ok segja menn, at Vöggr hefði þar verit flokksforingi fyrir ‘men
say that V†ggr was the leader of the troop’, by comparison with Saxo
merely bathetic.
One could continue to make criticisms. The motivation of Yrsa ispeculiar: she stays married to Aðils, but is continually hostile to him.
The point of Hrólfr’s visit to Uppsala is less than clear—to regain hisf†ðurarfr, says B†ðvarr, but one would have thought vengeance for
Hrólfr’s father Helgi would be a more pressing motive, for according to
the saga he was killed by Aðils, though other versions of the Skj†ldungr
epic have different explanations. One gets the impression that thesaga author knows quite a lot of related tales, and is reluctant to leaveanything out (hence Svipdagr and his brothers, Hrókr and the ring, thetwo Agnarrs). But at the same time he does not know the full story inHrólfs saga kraka and the Legend of Lejre

23

some cases, and so has to make up his own conclusions, as with V†ggr’s
unconvincing revenge, and the offstage and quickly forgotten death ofHelgi.2
The biggest lacuna of the saga, however, is simply Hrólfr. He ispresented as the great hero of the North, but as far as we can see, hedoes almost nothing. The chase across the Fýrisvellir plain was clearly
famous (see below), but kings of the Danes do not normally gain glory
by running away from the Swedes. The rest of the saga is not about him(except for the tale of his incestuous birth) but about his champions.
The Old English poem Widsiþ does indeed credit him with a major feat:with his uncle Hroþgar he killed Ingeld and destroyed the Heaþo-Bardarmy ‘at Heorot’, Hroþgar’s great hall. But if the event ever took place,the Heaþo-Bards were destroyed so completely that no one is now sure
who they were, though some have suggested that their name survives
in the southern Baltic area of Bardengau, and the name Hothbrodus—atribal name converted to a personal one?—recurs uneasily in legendary
tradition. However, Hrólfs saga itself knows nothing of this. The kingis almost a roi fainéant—so much so that two critics have suggested
independently that the saga may be in effect a satire on heroic pretensions(Valgerður Brynjólfsdóttir 2003 and Kalinke 2003). Certainly, in thesaga’s presentation of the king, one has to take the wish for the deed.
The saga author was, of course, not the only medieval Icelander who had
trouble arranging, and even understanding, his much older materials, but
to these I now turn.
The Legend of Lejre
What were the earlier frásagnir ‘narratives’ about Hrólfr, mentioned
by Snorri and from which the author of Hrólfs saga must have drawn?
Obviously we cannot tell for sure, but it might be noted before proceeding
further how similar are the situations of King Hrólfr and ‘King Arthur’.
Both men were active (if they existed at all) in the early sixth century.
There is no contemporary documentation for either. In both cases thelegends became established in the twelfth century, by Latin chroniclers,
respectively Saxo (c.1200) and Geoffrey of Monmouth (c.1135). In bothcases, though, there are hints of earlier knowledge in works now hard to2
No one gives a satisfying account of the death of Helgi, prominent in thelegend though he is. Saxo suggests that he committed suicide from shame at his
incest, Skj†ldunga saga and Ynglinga saga that he died in an unidentified battle,
the Lejre Chronicle mentions his burial but not the manner of his death.

24

Making History

date, such as the Gododdin poem, surviving in Middle Welsh but thought
to have been composed in a different place and dialect (see Koch 1997),
or the fragments of the Old Norse poem Bjarkamál or ‘Lay of [B†ðvarr]
Bjarki’. Both men attracted stories ascribed to their knights or champions,and both formed connections in legend with particular places, Hleiðra/Lejre or the still unidentified Camelot. One could well add that in bothcases there is still very deep reluctance by professional historians to takethe legends seriously, but that—even allowing for the ninth-century
evidence of the Historia Brittonum ascribed to ‘Nennius’, to which one
could nevertheless oppose the uncertain witness of Beowulf—on thewhole, the evidence for King Hrólfr is stronger than that for his morefamous contemporary.
Once again leaving out Beowulf and Widsiþ, there are almost a dozen
medieval Scandinavian accounts of Hrólfr other than the saga, which I
enumerate here, in very brief outline, as far as possible in chronologicalorder, and largely following the list compiled by Marijane Osborn andothers (Niles 2007). More extensive selections from them may be foundtranslated in Garmonsway et al. 1968, with original texts and a somewhat
different set of selections in Fulk et al. 2008, 294–306.
1) Grottas†ngr (Old Norse poem, date unknown, possibly as old as1000). Mentions Hleiðrar stóli in st. 20; st. 22 reads in part mun Yrso
sonr / við Hálfdana hefna Fróða; / sá mun hennar heitinn verða / burr ocbróðir (see below for comment and translation).
2) Bjarkamál (Old Norse poem, said in the thirteenth century to havebeen old even in 1030, and apparently set at the moment of Hrólfr’s
Last Stand). Only some lines survive in Old Norse, plus a long Latin
paraphrase in Saxo, (6) below. Similar to Hjalti’s ‘wake-up’ call in ch.
49 of the saga.
3) Langfeðgatal (twelfth century). A royal genealogical list, part ofwhich goes:Froðe frækni . . . Ingialdr Starkaðar fostri h[ans] s[onr], Halfdan broðir hans,
Helgo ok Hroar h. ss., Rolfr Kraki Helga s., Hrærekr Hnauggvanbaugi Iniallzs., Froðe h. s., Halfdan h. s., Hrærekr Slaungvanbaugi h. s.
Fróði the Bold, father of Ingjaldr foster-son of Starkaðr, Hálfdan his brother;his sons Helgi and Hróarr, Hrólfr Kraki son of Helgi, Hrærekr Hn†ggvanbaugi
Ingjaldr’s son, his son Fróði, his son Hálfdan, his son Hrærekr Sl†ngvanbaugi.

4) The Lejre Chronicle (Latin, late twelfth century): Ro was the sonof Dan. His sons were Helgi and Haldanus. [Note: the version of this in
Gesta Danorum inverts the genealogy so that Haldan is once again the

Hrólfs saga kraka and the Legend of Lejre

25

father of Helghe and Ro.] Tells the incestuous birth story, and Rolf’s
death at the hands of Hiarwart and Sculd.
5) Sven Aggesen, Short History of the Kings of Denmark (Latin, c.
1188): Skjold’s heirs are Frothi and Haldanus, Haldanus kills Frothi, is
succeeded in turn by Helghi, Rolf Kraki, ‘killed at Lethra’, and Rokil
Slaghenback.
6) Saxo Grammaticus, Gesta Danorum (Latin, c.1200): Extensive
account in Book 2 of Rolvo’s incestuous birth, his raid on Uppsala, his
death at the hands of Sculda and Hiarwarthus, and the revenge taken byhis last surviving retainer Wiggo. Book 7 adds the story of Haldanus.
7) Snorri Sturluson, Ynglinga saga (Icelandic, early thirteenth century),tells of the incestuous birth, briefly mentions the battle on the ice of Lake
Väner, the expedition to Uppsala, the sowing of gold on Fýrisvellir, andthe death of Hrólfr at Hleiðra.
8) Snorri Sturluson, Skáldskaparmál (Icelandic, early thirteenth cen­tury): Kraki gives the boy V†ggr a ring, in return for which he promises
to avenge him. Snorri also gives the story of the Uppsala raid, the Fýris­vellir chase and the ring Svíagríss, including use of the verb svínbeyga.
9) Annales Ryenses (Latin, c.1290): Rolf killed at Leire by Hiartwarus,
along with Biarki and Hjalti.
10) Bjarkarímur (Faeroese, c.1400): Hálfdan’s sons are Hróarr
and Helgi. The Hrœrekr ‘Ring-slinger’ story is told much as in the saga,
but the ring is Svíagríss, and Agnarr is the son of Ingjaldr, not Hróarr,and is later killed by Bjarki. Also tells the story of V†ggr’s vow ofvengeance.
11) Skj†ldunga saga (date unknown, survives only in Latin epitome
by Arngrímr Jónsson, c.1570): Scioldo’s grandson is Frodo; Rolfo Krakeis born of incest (not detailed); his uncle Roas is killed by his own firstcousins, Rærecus and Frodo, sons of Ingialldus; Rolfo is named Krakeby Woggerus, who vows to avenge him; his champions are Witserchus
and Bodvarus; the latter kills Agnarus, another son of Ingialldus. Rolfo
helps Adillus to fight Alo on Lake Waener, but does not get paid, andraids Adillus to get his dues; the ‘stoop like a swine’ story is told; he iskilled by Hiorvardus and Scullda, avenged by Woggerus, succeeded byRærecus, see above.
In addition to the above, it should be noted that there are a number ofreferences to Hrólfr in the Íslendingasögur and the fornaldarsögur,26

Making History

several of them mentioning Hrólfr’s sword Sk†fnungr, said to have beenlooted from his barrow and taken to Iceland by Miðfjarðar-Skeggi.
The most obvious fact about the Scandinavian accounts, however, isthat they are bewilderingly contradictory. There seems to be no certainty
about who people are. Thus,
Hrólfs saga says at the start that Fróði kills Hálfdan. But Sven Aggesen
and Saxo say that Haldanus kills Frothi; though Saxo (who seems to havedealt with conflicting accounts by telling both as if of different people)
says that another Frothi tried to kill Haldanus.
The Eddic poem Grottas†ngr refers to the same conflict, but is hard
to make out. In it two giantesses, enslaved by Fróði, rebel and threaten
him with vengeance. Two lines of stanza 22 are given above (p. 24),
and as they stand they mean ‘the son of Yrsa will avenge Fróði on the
Half-Danes; he will be known as her son and brother’. The reference toincest makes it certain that the ‘son of Yrsa’ is Hrólfr, but the rest does
not fit well either with other accounts of the feud or with the poem’s
own context, in which the giantesses are threatening Fróði. It has beensuggested that the second line should read vígs Hálfdanar hefna Fróða
(Bugge 1867): Hrólfr will ‘avenge the killing of Hálfdan on Fróði’, better
sense and better grammar. But if this was once the case the scribes of thepoem did not understand it.
Furthermore:
The saga is clear that Hróarr is the son of Hálfdan, but the Lejre Chronicle
says that Haldanus is the son of Ro. Very interestingly, however, theman who translated the chronicle into Old Danish, working with anauthoritative Latin text in front of him, was aware enough of a different
version to challenge it, writing that Haldan had two sons, en het Ro—oc
summe sighæ at han het Haldan—oc anner het Helghe ‘one was called
Ro—but some say he was called Haldan—and the other was called
Helgi’ (Gordon 1962, 165).
There is a well-agreed ancestry for Hrólfr, but:
There is near-total disagreement about Fróði. The saga says he is
the brother of Hálfdan, Saxo calls him the father of Haldanus, in theLangfeðgatal he appears both four names above and two names
below Rolfr (along with two Halfdans and two Hrærekrs), in the Lejre
Chronicle he is Rolf’s grandson, and in the Skj†ldunga saga epitome heis Rolfo’s cousin. Clearly there is a feeling that he should be in the story.
But who is he?

Hrólfs saga kraka and the Legend of Lejre

27

Other figures bob around disquietingly, such as Hrærekr Slaungvanbaugior ‘Ring-Slinger’, who must be the same as the saga’s Hrókr, and who
may well be the same as his namesake Hrærekr Hnauggvanbaugi, ‘RingMiser’; Ingialdr (in the Old English tradition son of Froda and defeatedby Hroþulf); Hothbrodus (who kills Ro in Saxo; it is suggested above that
this is a tribal name converted to a personal one); and Agnarr or Agnerus,
who never quite comes into focus, even in Hrólfs saga, see above.3
Nevertheless, one has to concede also that there are some areas of solid
agreement centring on the life of Hrólfr himself:
The story of his incestuous birth is repeated with little variation in items(1), (4), (6), (7) and (11) above.
The Fýrisvellir chase also appears, this time with even some verbal
consistency, in (6), (7), (8) and (11).
The character of V†ggr as Hrólfr’s avenger is also present in (7), (8),(10) and (11).
Hj†rvarðr also appears as Hrólfr’s bane in (4), (6), (9) and (11), Skuld
appearing also in all but (9).
It is clear also that at least some of the time these authors are borrowing
not from each other, but from accounts circulating independently; one
could not construct a reliable stemma for the legend as a whole.4 Thus,
Saxo and Hrólfs saga are in substantial agreement over many things—
both for instance tell the tale of Hjalti’s testing and mutilation of his
mistress on the morning of the Last Stand—but if the author of the saga
had had Saxo available to him, or Skj†ldunga saga, he would not haveconcluded his version of the vengeance of V†ggr so ineptly.
John Niles accordingly, having contemplated ‘the bewildering variety
of stories told about the Skjöldung kings of Lejre’, asks himself the3
Saxo describes the duel between Agnerus and Biarco, but identifies him as
the son of Ingellus, as do the Bjarkarímur. These latter also identify the Agnarr
who recovers the ring with the Agnarr killed by Biarki.
4Though there are some indicators. The saga author may have known Snorri’s
Skáldskaparmál, for both have the saying Litlu verðr V†ggr feginn. If, as suggested by Guðbrandur Vigfússon, v†ggr was originally a word for ‘small child’
as well as a name (see Ellis Davidson and Fisher 1979, II 46), then Hrólfr is making an amusing pun on a proverb parallel to our ‘Little things please little minds’.
Snorri does not complete the story by telling of V†ggr’s vengeance, though thesaga author seems to have felt that the story needed completion, see above. See
also Valgerður Brynjólfsdóttir 2003, 141–42.

28

Making History

question, ‘Was there ever a more or less unitary form of the tale?’ orwhether the search for one is only ‘an exercise in futility’ (Niles 2007,255). He concludes that the attempt is possible, and offers an ‘archetypal’
version of the story (260–61), going on with an attempt to relate thisto the results of the archaeological excavations at Lejre5—the great hallbuilt c.550, the second hall built c.680, the signs of a great cremation c.
630–50. What he suggests is that the legend had no real correspondencewith past events, but was made up by people living later in the Lejre area,
and attempting to explain memories of the first great hall and the greatcremation; the legend would then be based on a ruin, or the memory ofa ruin.
This is certainly logical, and it fits the evidence of the archaeology
and its dating as theories deduced from Beowulf, for instance, do not.
There are perhaps two objections to it. One is that the original legend
must have been a compelling one to circulate so widely and last so long,in which case it is odd that there is no trace or mention of a first version.
A poem? A saga? What we have looks arguably more like a scatterof different witnesses to the same events, with different explanations,relationships and even political standpoints creating different stories—
which as we know is what happens in the real world, especially if one
is relying on oral accounts—with of course a great deal of further andfantastic accretion.
The other objection (to allow Beowulf into the discussion for one
paragraph) is that one of the things which makes Beowulf rather
convincing is the poet’s unemphatic, even casual delivery of information
which makes a good deal of sense. The poet is not much concernedwith the Scylding kings, apart from Hroþgar (or Hróarr), a minor figure
in all the Scandinavian accounts. But he lets slip that Heoroweard (orHj†rvarðr) is himself a Scylding, the son of an elder brother of Hroþgar
and Halga of whom Scandinavian tradition knows nothing. He mentionsHreþric also (= Hrærekr? = Hrókr?), not as Hroþgar’s enemy but as
his son. The situation in Beowulf then (I repeat, quite clearly stated but
only peripheral to the poem’s narrative) is that there are three paternal
first cousins, each with an evident claim to the throne once Hroþgar
dies, an event expected in the poem before very long—enough in itself
to explain Hrólfr’s death at Hleiðra at the hands of Hj†rvarðr, and perhaps
the elimination of Hrærekr/Hrókr by Hrólfr. It is again odd that this neat5
As known in 2007, but see p. 18 above for further discoveries on the Lejre site,these latter as yet not reported in enough detail to be taken into any interpretation.

Hrólfs saga kraka and the Legend of Lejre

29

and plausible explanation (much more credible than the demonic halfsister Skuld) has vanished from Scandinavian memory. Its existence
creates something of a dilemma for the ‘original legend’ theory. Was
it not part of the hypothetical Ur-legend, but invented separately inEngland? In which case one has to wonder why anyone bothered. Or
does it preserve something which existed in the ‘original legend’ but waslater eliminated from Scandinavian memory as discreditable to Hrólfr?
In which case one must ask why a discreditable version was producedin Scandinavia in the first place. It would be a simpler explanation to
say that we have two different views of the same event, a pro-Hrólfr
one which suppressed or distorted memories of his rivals, and a moreneutral one which offered no judgement on the civil war of the Scyldings
generally.
Meanwhile, one could argue that the real-life scenario behind thevariant legends is this. In the post-Roman era, a time of major transfersof power within Scandinavia as on its borders, a number of royal or
sub-royal dynasties were contending for power, associated with tribalgroups such as the Danes, Swedes, Gauts, Bards, Jutes, Frisians andeven Angles, along no doubt with even smaller groups of which we havelittle record. These contentions were remembered in different ways bydifferent groups, and the relationships between them were in any caseforgotten (as for instance with Fróði and Hálfdan), as was any exact
chronology. Names themselves ceased to be recognised, so that Hálfdan,in Grottas†ngr, turns into ‘the Half-Danes’, while conversely ‘theHeaþo-Bards’ turn into ‘Hothbrodus’. What were well-remembered weredramatic incidents,6 no doubt embellished and embroidered almost assoon as first told: the battle on the ice of Lake Väner, in which (according
to Skj†ldunga saga, Skáldskaparmál and the Bjarkarímur) King Hrólfr’s
champions fought; the enmity between King Hrólfr and King Aðils, orat any rate between Danes and Swedes; the death of great kings and thefall of dynasties.
Most of Hrólfs saga of course looks like pure fantasy, with its elfwomen, were-bears, miraculous escapes and berserk-quelling champions,while much of what is left looks like the massaging of Danish amour
propre, with repeated humiliation of the Swedes, and utter defeat in theend transformed into moral victory (as is regularly the case with utter
And sometimes words or phrases associated with the incidents, like the punor proverb suggested in note 1 above, or the verb svínbeyga, which seems to havebecome a favourite (see Skáldskaparmál, I 59 and Vatnsdœla saga ch. 33).
6

30

Making History

defeats). Nor could anyone call it a masterpiece of construction. The
author’s main aim seems to have been to get everything in that he had
ever heard about; the saga as a whole would probably be improved by
the elimination of Hrókr and Svipdagr, and a reduction in the numberof berserks, interventions by Queen Yrsa, and humiliations heaped onAðils.
One could, however, say something similar about V†lsunga saga.
It too contains its doublings and its internal contradictions, while
it has even stronger elements of fantasy. Just as B†ðvarr is the son ofa were-bear, so Sigurðr is the son and half-brother of men who are(albeit temporarily) were-wolves. Helgi’s elf-woman is more thanmatched by Brynhildr the valkyrie. However, the existence of central
figures from fairy-tale in V†lsunga saga has not prevented the general
recognition that its Nibelungs, if not its Volsungs, were real figuresin history. The Gunnarr of the saga (Guþhere in Old English tradition)is the fifth-century King Gundaharius of the Lex Burgundionum,
the equation confirmed by the names of other members of his family,
Giúki and Giselher corresponding to the Gibica and Gislaharius of
the Latin text.7 In just the same way, Hrólfr in Old Norse and Hroþulf
in Old English (their identity confirmed by their family trees) look
like descendants of a sixth-century *Hrothuwulfaz, though this time
we have no contemporary Latin text to bear witness. It is only this,however, which prevents the drawing of a complete parallel, in
which, just as V†lsunga saga and its analogues preserve memory of
the traumatic fifth-century defeat of the Burgundians on the Rhine by
the Huns, so Hrólfs saga and its analogues would preserve memoryof sixth-century events, no doubt equally traumatic, but confined
to pre-literate Scandinavia and so not confirmed by contemporary
documents. Both sagas, then, could be seen as ripples of events once
as real as those which gave us the Atli of the Eddic poems (Old English
Ætla, Latin / Gothic Attila), or I†rmunrekkr (Old English Eormenrice,
Latin Ermanaricus, Gothic *Airmanareiks). One cannot tell how
far bearing witness to these may have formed part of their authors’
motivation, but preserving the past, and gathering up every possible scrap
7
Christopher Tolkien has recently pointed out (Tolkien 2009, 228)
that both Old Norse and Old English poetic tradition quite correctly preserved the memory of the ethnicity of these heroes—which must surely havebeen forgotten in the wider world—by their use of the phrase for Gunnarr /Guþhere, respectively vin Borgunda / wine Burgenda ‘friend (i.e. lord) of theBur­gundians’.

Hrólfs saga kraka and the Legend of Lejre

31

of fading tradition, were certainly strong elements (as well as tellingentertaining stories) in the motivation of many if not most medieval
Icelandic authors.
BibliographyÁrmann Jakobsson 2003. ‘Queens of Terror, Perilous women in Hálfs saga and
Hrólfs saga kraka’. In Fornaldarsagornas Struktur och Ideologi, Handlingarfrån ett symposium i Uppsala 31.8–2.9. 2000. Ed. Ármann Jakobsson et al.,
173––89.
Bugge, Sophus 1867. Norrœn fornkvæði . . . Sæmundar Edda hins fróða.
Byock, Jesse, trans., 1998. The Saga of King Hrolf Kraki.
Christensen, Tom 1991. ‘Lejre, Fact and Fable’. Trans. Faith Ingwersen. In
Beowulf and Lejre 2007. Ed. John D. Niles, 13–101.
Christensen, Tom 2005. ‘A New Round of Excavations at Lejre (to2005)’. Trans. Faith Ingwersen. In Beowulf and Lejre 2007. Ed. John D. Niles,
109–26.
Driscoll, M. J. and Silvia Hufnagel 2009. ‘Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda: A
bibliography of manuscripts, editions, translations and secondary literature’.
www.staff.hum.ku.dk/mjd/fornaldarsagas
Ellis Davidson, Hilda, ed., and Peter Fisher, trans., 1979–80. Saxo Grammaticus.
The History of the Danes, Books I–IX.
Evans, Jonathan 1993. ‘Hrólfs saga kraka’. In Medieval Scandinavia: An
Encyclopedia. Ed. Phillip Pulsiano et al., 304–05.
Fulk, R. D., Robert E. Bjork and John D. Niles, eds., 2008. Klaeber’s Beowulf,
4th Edition.
Garmonsway, G. N., Jacqueline Simpson and Hilda Ellis Davidson, trans., 1968.
Beowulf and its Analogues.
Gordon, E.V., ed., 1962. An Introduction to Old Norse, 2nd ed. revised by A. R.
Taylor.
Hrólfs saga kraka ok kappa hans. In Fornaldarsögur Norðurlanda 1954, I–IV.
Ed. Guðni Jónsson. I 1–105.
Jones, Gwyn, trans., 1961. Eirik the Red and other Icelandic Sagas.
Jones, Gwyn 1968. A History of the Vikings.
Kalinke, Marianne 2003. ‘Transgression in Hrólfs saga kraka’. In Fornaldar­
sagornas struktur och ideologi: Handlingar från ett symposium i Uppsala
31.8–2.9. 2000. Ed. Ármann Jakobsson et al, 157–71.
Koch, John T., ed., 1997. The Gododdin of Aneirin, Text and Context from DarkAge Britain.
Niles, John D., ed., 2007. Beowulf and Lejre.
Slay, Desmond, ed., 1960. Hrólfs saga kraka. Editiones Arnamagnæanæ B / 1.
Snorri Sturluson 1998. Skáldskaparmál. E­ d. Anthony Faulkes.
Tolkien, J. R. R. 2009. The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún. Ed. Christopher
Tolkien.
Tolley, Clive 2007. ‘Hrólfs saga kraka and Sami bear rites’. Saga-Book
XXXI, 5–21.

32

Making History

Tunstall, Peter 2003. The Saga of King Hrolf Kraki and his Champions.
www.northvegr.org/lore/oldheathen/034.php
Valgerður Brynjólfsdóttir 2003. ‘A Valiant King or a Coward? The Changing
Image of King Hrólfr kraki from the Oldest Sources to Hrólfs saga kraka’. In
Fornaldarsagornas struktur och ideologi, Handlingar från ett symposium i
Uppsala 31.8–2.9. 2000. Ed. Ármann Jakobsson et al., 141–56.

Enter the Dragon

33

ENTER THE DRAGON. LEGENDARY SAGA COURAGE
AND THE BIRTH OF THE HEROÁRMANN JAKOBSSON

The uses of monsters‘Þat sagðir þú, Reginn, at dreki sjá væri eigi meiri en einn lyngormr, en mérsýnask vegar hans æfar miklir’ “You claimed, Reginn, that this dragon was
no bigger than a regular worm, but he seems to me to leave a mighty track”(V†lsunga saga, 41).1 Before killing Fáfnir, Sigurðr Fáfnisbani is far fromenthusiastic. Presumably he is not supposed to realise at this point that hewill be famous ever after for slaying this dragon, as his nickname attests.2
According to V†lsunga saga, he mainly desires revenge for the death of
his father; it is his foster-father Reginn who keeps urging him to kill the
dragon and he continues to postpone it until he has avenged his kinsmen.
Sigurðr’s reluctance is not explained in the saga. If it had been someone
else, one might suspect anxiety about confronting the dragon. But as will
be discussed in more detail later, it is stated on more than one occasionin V†lsunga saga that Sigurðr knows no fear. So the most likely option isthat he is simply not very interested in the dragon at this stage; he fights
it because he has promised to, or so the saga has it: ‘Efna munu vér þat
sem vér h†fum þar um heitit, ok ekki fellr oss þat ór minni’ “We will makegood on what we have promised, and it has not slipped our mind” (41).
What is the dragon to Sigurðr? His attitude is interestingly nonchalant.
The question arises, Who is Sigurðr the dragon-slayer? Why is he the best
person to kill the dragon? And furthermore, why is the dragon importantto the hero? The subject of this study is the significance of the dragon ina narrative such as the Sigurðr legend, of which V†lsunga saga is but oneof many manifestations.
1 All references to V†lsunga saga and Ragnars saga will be to Olsen’s 1906–
08 edition. The spelling has been normalised for the sake of clarity.
2 The nickname Fáfnisbani appears three times in V†lsunga saga (85, 105 and108). It is also used in other medieval texts such as Ragnars saga loðbrókar,Flateyjarbók (in Norna-Gests þáttr and Þorsteins þáttr skelks) and in Snorra
Edda (Skáldskaparmál). Thus Sigurðr and the dragon seem to be intertwined in
the mind of the medieval audience.

34

Making History

The dragon provides the Sigurðr legend with its core. Thus understanding the legend means understanding the meaning dragons held for thecontemporary audience of the saga. The idea that a mythical beast suchas a dragon might have a symbolic significance would not have been­alien to the late medieval audience of V†lsunga saga. In the Old Icelandic
bestiary Physiologus (1889), which probably dates from the beginning of
the thirteenth century, it is clearly stated that every beast has a symbolic
value and serves a particular purpose. This is not surprising in itself since
the person or persons responsible for this text believed that the world
was created by an omniscient being with a clear design. And even though
the natural sciences no longer work from this premise, one can contend
that while natural animals may not necessarily be imbued with a divine
significance, mythical beasts must always have a function, a symbolic
meaning and a narrative purpose, and this certainly applies to dragons.
Meaning and purpose are complicated concepts that need to be defined
more closely. This article is concerned with the purpose of the narrative and the practical function of the monster in it, but there is also thepossibility that it has a religious purpose, a function within the Christianfaith that will not be discussed here but has been noted by other scholars(see e.g. Ásdís Egilsdóttir 1999, Riches 2003). Last but not least, there is
the function of a dragon for an implied Everyman within the audience ofthe saga. Since mythical beasts belong to an ‘Otherworld’, their function
in daily life is far from obvious from the perspective of the twenty-first
century. But I believe this function is both real and important; that it is infact the spinal cord of the legend.
One of the problematic aspects of the dragon-slaying myth is how toapproach it. There are several medieval texts about Sigurðr Fáfnisbani,
pictures as well as narratives, but there is also the legend—a different
kind of text—which materialises in texts including V†lsunga saga, which
will be the focus of this study. The scholar who wishes to say something
about the heroic dragon-slayer myth is trying to interpret an intangible
text which does not exist on paper; it is necessary to work from versionsof it in narratives such as the legendary sagas and use them as a pathway
to the essence of the myth.
There are two good reasons for this. One is that myths and legends
always express themselves through language and thus there is no clear
separation between beliefs or ideas and their linguistic expression.3 The
3 I see no reason to distinguish between myths and legends in this study. De-

marcation between the two is far from clear and definitions vary. Bascom (1965)
defines myths as having non-human principal characters and as belonging to theEnter the Dragon

35

second is my interest in the practical uses and functions of myths for an
imagined audience, in this case thirteenth-, fourteenth- and fifteenthcentury Icelanders, the audience of Reginsmál, Fáfnismál, V†lsunga saga
and Ragnars saga loðbrókar. Thus it seems logical to approach the myth
as they did, through the text of a legendary saga, a text which retells alegend although its form is its own.4
The troublesome relationship between the legend and its existing textual
variants cannot really be resolved. In this study, no attempt will be madeto decapitate this hydra or even look it in the eye; rather I will approach it
tentatively, as might an unnamed and unheroic supporting character in a
dragon-slaying myth. V†lsunga saga and Ragnars saga will be the texts
that I cling to, knowing that they are only fragments of a much larger
and somewhat nebulous vessel lurking in the deep. In this analogy, thephilologist is adrift in the ocean and myths can indeed be as vast and ascomplex (or as simple) as an ocean.
What kind of text is a legend or a myth? There is no shortage of definitions, and trying not to get completely lost at sea, I will concentrate on thefunctionality of myths and legends (to me perhaps their most interestingside), since this is the aspect of the myth lost to a modern audience that
does not believe in the myth and starts out impervious to its possible
explanatory value. Modern scholars tend not to regard stories such asV†lsunga saga as ‘practical literature’ and thus they may miss some ofits value to its original audience.5
ancient past, whereas legends are closer in time and do have human principal
characters. This definition has been criticised by Csapo (2005, 3–9) who questions the need for such a clear demarcation. To clarify my stance, I understand‘legend’ as a traditional narrative, not necessarily historically accurate (thoughpurporting to be). ‘Myth’, on the other hand, I would use mainly about cosmological narratives with an explanatory function. However, it could be argued thatlegends serve a similar function, although less overtly, and the difference between the two is thus not very real. As I understand it, both the Sigurðr and the
Ragnarr legends are a part of a larger unity which is really a myth, that of the
dragon-slaying youth.
4 Various views on the troublesome relationship between tradition and formin the legendary sagas can be seen in ‘Interrogating genre in the fornaldarsögur:Round-table discussion’ (2006). One thing which is clear from this discussion isthat the legendary sagas can be approached both as a part of a long tradition andas singular works with their own structure, style and ideology which is not necessarily an integral part of the original legend.
5 As Hastrup (1987, 261) has noted, history has an explanatory function notunlike that of myth; both are ‘selective accounts of the past’, concerned with thecreation of identity and the establishment of precedent. The main difference lies

36

Making History

But the functionality and the meaning of a myth—in this case there
is no real need to distinguish between the two since I am looking at themeaning of the myth from the perspective of an audience that wants to
put it to some use—is a complex matter.6 The functionality of myths
means that a myth always exists in two time zones: on one hand, in thevery ancient past where it has been placed, and on the other, right in the
middle of the present, in the lives of its audience (see e.g. Hastrup 1987,
259). The myth is very distant, as all deities and venerated figures haveto be. And yet the myth exists within ourselves and thus everywhere.
Myths can be quite complex but at the same time their essence tends tobe very simple, even mundane. Myths are supposed to explain the world
and invent a harmony between the inner and the outer, the vast and thesmall, thus helping a simple human, in his smallness, to grasp a complex
world. Since life is not static, neither are myths. They are narratives on
the move, perhaps in the form of a quest, with a clear purpose that is often
absent from our everyday lives and where the hard struggle of the heroprovides the myth with an intensity that we may sometimes lack in ourdaily existence.
Thus myths are paradoxical; they have to be lofty and cosmological,
explaining the biggest things imaginable to men (god, the sky, time, life),
but they also act as a guide to the small and insignificant private lives ofordinary people. If myths and legends did not address the ordinarinessof existence, they would lose much of their power. And this is what I
am approaching here: the meaning that an extraordinary hero such as
Sigurðr and a huge, mythical beast such as a dragon holds in the trivial
existence of, say, poor farmers and their families in the peaceful Icelandic
countryside.
Since the Sigurðr myth is ubiquitous, as myths should perhaps aspire
to be, it assumes that there is a Sigurðr inside every man and the legend
thus has a function for everyone. But it also has to be kept in mind that
Sigurðr is a king as well, and it is also an important function of the legend
to sustain the charisma of leadership and the qualities of a noble ruler.7
The legendary past is always two-dimensional: it concerns both society
in the orality and timelessness of myths, whereas history is literary and more
firmly grounded in time.
6 There are many far more subtle and nuanced definitions of myths than are
possible in this limited study. See esp. Schjødt 2008, 64–68, who emphasises thelegitimising function of myth.
7 I have written at greater length about the myth of kingship/leadership in the
medieval North (Ármann Jakobsson 1997, 89–154).

Enter the Dragon

37

and the life of the individual. But most importantly, the mythical hero isgone but still present; the legend is not just storytelling about the past but
also an afterlife for the hero who continues to serve his didactic function,and this hero matters to the everyday lives of his audience and is far more
intimate than he later became.
I will focus on the personal rather than the public function of thelegend although I think it can be argued that it had practical value for
its West Nordic audience as an analysis of society as well as of thepsychology of the individual. My main subject will be how the legend
expresses, but also to a degree problematises, the concepts of youth andcourage, through the figures of the hero and the dragon. I will discuss
how dragons serve both as the midwives of heroism (and this analogy is
not out of the blue) and as the embodiment of terror. While dragons are
not a part of the daily existence of most people, fear most certainly is,
and I will argue here that fear is one of the cornerstones of heroism andthat terror imbues the most important Old Norse dragon legends with aclear purpose.
A hierarchy of serpents
In the heroic North, dragon-slayers seem to have been in a heroic classof their own, a class with only two members (or three if we countBeowulf). These are Sigurðr Fáfnisbani and Ragnarr loðbrók. The
dragons killed by Sigurðr and Ragnarr are not the only two that areslain in the medieval Norse-Icelandic textual corpus; indeed, there areseveral serpents of various types to be found there. And yet Ragnarr
and Sigurðr seem to have stood out among Northern European dragonslayers, especially Sigurðr who may well be regarded as the principal
dragon-slayer of the North, the Germanic exemplar of the dragon-slaying
myth that Calvert Watkins (1995, 297–303) has located throughout the
Indo-European world.
In Old Icelandic texts the word dreki often denotes an animal of far lesser
stature than those fought by Sigurðr and Ragnarr. J. R. R. Tolkien may haveexaggerated when he said that in the North, dragons were ‘as rare as they are
dire’ (Tolkien 1936, 253; see Evans 2005, 241–48 for counter-examples), but
he was right that it is necessary to distinguish between really impressive andless frightening dragons. The flugdrekar that Gull-Þórir and his companions
slay in Þorskfirðinga saga (185–88) when stealing their hoard commandso little respect that they can hardly be referred to in the same breath as Fáfnir. These dragons are so large that they can carry a man in their jaws, andthey also fly and spew fire and poison, yet the narrative is devoid of any

38

Making History

sense of wonder or danger.8 The dragon that Bj†rn Hítdœlakappi slays in his
saga hardly seems worth a mention, either in this study or indeed in Bjarnar
saga Hítdœlakappa itself, where it is referred to very perfunctorily—andafter its slaying, never mentioned again (Bjarnar saga Hítdœlakappa,
124); and although Þorkell the bully in Njáls saga boasts of having killed
another flugdreki, he is put in his place by Skarphéðinn: killing a dragon
does not seem to compare with the heroism of skating over a frozen river
to kill a chieftain in his sixties accompanied by seven people, including
youths, farmhands and women (Brennu-Njáls saga, 303).9 And eventhough ­Haraldr harðráði’s mettle is certainly put to the test when making
short work of the emperor of Constantinople’s dungeon dragon (a type ofmonster familiar to anyone who has seen the film The Return of the Jedi)
in Saxo’s Gesta Danorum (10) and Morkinskinna (80–82), he emerges
from the pit an unchanged man. His dragon is admittedly terrible but not
the making of the man. So I would tend to agree with Tolkien that not all
dragons are equally magnificent, and that the dragon-slayings of Sigurðr
Fáfnisbani and Ragnarr are the only clear Old Norse representations of thepowerful dragon-slaying myth.10 In this instance the word dreki may not
be the best guide to the draconitas of Sigurðr and Ragnarr’s antagonists.11
The two slayers of NKS 1824b 4to
The dragon killed by Bj†rn Hítdœlakappi earns him no special status in theMýrasýsla district in Iceland. On the other hand, Sigurðr Fáfnisbani and
Ragnarr loðbrók are two of the most celebrated heroic figures of the medie8 This lack of a sense of wonder or danger may perhaps be regarded as typical of this saga type, see Sävborg 2009. At the end of the saga, it is suggested inan equally offhand fashion that Þórir himself may have changed into a dragon
instead of dying (Þorskfirðinga saga, 226).
9 According to the saga, Þorkell has also fought a finngálkn ‘chimera’.
10 Not all monster-fighters are dragon-slayers and there are some heroic figures in the Old Icelandic sagas that fight ghosts, trolls, and berserkers. GrettirÁsmundarson is perhaps the most ‘professional’ of these monster-fighters (seefor example Ármann Jakobsson 2009) but one might also mention the Hrafnistu­
menn (Ciklamini 1966), the family of Bárðr Snæfellsáss (Ármann Jakobsson
1998), heroes who wrestle with blámenn, and grave-robbing episodes in howes(Ármann Jakobsson 2010) where there is usually a ghost or two to guard thetreasure sought.
11 The word is not Germanic but Greek (see for example Evans 2005, 217),
and, as it indicates, there is no clear separation between the Germanic dragon and
its Indo-European counterparts (Evans, 221–30).

Enter the Dragon

39

val North. Ragnarr pales in comparison to Sigurðr, yet his dragon-slaying is
not only included in the subject matter of Ragnars saga loðbrókar but also
­referred to in several other Old Norse texts: Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks, Bósa
saga ok Herrauðs, Hálfdanar saga Eysteinssonar and Norna-Gests þáttr. He
also figures in Saxo’s Gesta Danorum and in Hauksbók. As Rory McTurk(1991) has demonstrated, the Ragnarr tradition is old and wide-ranging.12
Sigurðr, of course, is even more distinguished. He makes appearances allover the Germanic world, in the Nibelungenlied,13 in Beowulf,14 in images
carved on Swedish runestones and in several Old Norse texts, including
Snorra Edda, Þiðreks saga and V†lsunga saga (see e.g. ­Andersson 1980;
Rowe 2006). His story is worthy of being retold at length in the Codex­Regius of the Elder Edda, alongside mythical texts such as V†luspá,
Háva­mál and Vafþrúðnismál, and he even makes it into the late fourteenthcentury Þorsteins þáttr skelks in Flateyjarbók as a prime example of aheroic heathen, before becoming the hero of several post-medieval ballads
in various parts of Scandinavia.
Þorsteins þáttr is worth special consideration because in this late ­narrative
Sigurðr has exemplary and didactic value but is no longer an unproblematic hero; according to the ghostly demon Þorkell þunni, he is serving inHell along with other heathen warriors, including Starkaðr the Old (Flateyjarbok, 416). In the formalist narrative research of the 1960s it became­customary to distinguish between two types of heroes, the bright andbeautiful hero and the somewhat darker and more problematic one. Lars
Lönnroth (1976, 62) called these two types the Grettir-type and the­Siegfried-type, so it is clear where Sigurðr Fáfnisbani fits in, and the crimes
that Starkaðr commits mark him down equally obviously as the Grettir-type(see e.g. Ciklamini 1971). In Þorsteins þáttr both types are represented,
and there is clearly a difference: Sigurðr bears his hellish punishment withfortitude while Starkaðr reacts with inhuman howling. But the difference
proves on closer inspection to be superficial: in spite of Starkarðr’s harsher
punishment and Sigurðr’s fortitude, both are heathen and in the same Hell.
Þorsteins þáttr skelks is preserved in Flateyjarbók, which presents its
audience with a rigorously Augustinian world view where the heathen past
12 McTurk uses eighteen narratives, including Renaissance Latin accounts andballads, presumably post-medieval, from Denmark, Norway and the Faroe Islands toanalyse the pattern of the Ragnarr and Áslaug part of Ragnars saga (McTurk
1991, 53–62).
13 In the Nibelungenlied Sigurðr is given the name Sifrit (Siegfried).
14 In Beowulf (ll. 875–892) the dragon-slaying is credited to Sigemund, who in
Norse versions (as Sigmundr) is the father of Sigurðr.

40

Making History

is clearly placed in Hell (see Rowe 2005, 65–97). But who is Sigurðr?
Why is his legend so popular and what is its function? Why does the latefourteenth-century editorial team of Flateyjarbók care about this prehistoricheroic figure? As clearly portrayed in Ragnars saga, Sigurðr acquires
some significance as the mythical ancestor of the perhaps equally mythical King Haraldr hárfagri of Norway and the northern kings descended in
his line.15 That is, however, hardly enough in itself to explain his elevatedstatus within the culture of medieval Scandinavia. It seems more likelythat his importance lies in the dragon-slaying itself, in myth rather thanhistory, a quality which also manages to elevate Ragnarr loðbrók overmost other prehistoric Viking kings, although perhaps not quite to thesame heights as Sigurðr.
Ragnarr is actually Sigurðr’s son-in-law according to Ragnars saga, but
the two heroes do not have much in common apart from the dragon-slaying.
And there are also significant differences in the most detailed narrativesof the two killings. With Ragnarr, the emphasis is on his ingenuity andmainly on the hairy breeches which he uses to escape the poison of theworm and which provide him with a lasting identity, whereas in the Sigurðr narrative, the emphasis is on his desire for revenge and the influence
from Reginn. Still, there are some shared elements worthy of interest.
We find evidence for this in the legendary saga variations of the myth,in V†lsunga saga and Ragnars saga, composed presumably separately
in the thirteenth or early fourteenth century but preserved together in theearly fifteenth-century manuscript NKS 1824 b 4to.16 I use these texts asrepresentatives for the myth in this paper, not because they are the oldest
or the most original variants but because they demonstrate the possiblefunctions of the myth for a late medieval audience who encountered it
through these texts.
15 As evidenced by the manuscript AM 415 4to from the early fourteenth
century, where also Ragnarr is the purported ancestor of the kings of Denmark,­Norway and Sweden (on this manuscript, see Sverrir Jakobsson 2005, 50).
16 The text in 1824 is not believed to be necessarily close to the presumed
original version of either saga (on the relationship between the extant V†lsunga
saga and other narratives of Sigurðr and Brynhildr, see esp. Andersson 1980; on
the development of the Ragnarr narratives, see McTurk 1991). If V†lsunga saga
dates from the thirteenth century as e.g. Andersson (1999) believes, the narrative
may have evolved quite a bit before the extant version was committed to paper.
Nevertheless, 1824 is the only existing vellum manuscript of V†lsunga saga andthe only complete one of Ragnars saga (Olsen also published the fragmentary
AM 147 4to in his 1906 edition). At least twenty-one paper manuscripts containing both sagas are believed to date back to this manuscript (Olsen, vii–x).

Enter the Dragon

41

Youth and the hero
As seen above, the Sigurðr we meet in V†lsunga saga is not at firstpar­ticularly interested in fighting the dragon Fáfnir. He treats Reginn’s
persistence in the matter as a teenage boy might treat his mother’s insistence that he clean his room. His main desire is to avenge his father but
the saga insists that he also wants to keep his promise to Reginn. The
saga keeps reminding us that Sigurðr knows no fear (see below), and if
we take that at face value, his initial reluctance to fight the dragon has to
be interpreted not as a lack of courage but rather as lack of interest. Even
though he claims to have heard of Fáfnir (33), his youthful carelessness
highlights his status at this point in the saga as a callow boy who does
not acknowledge that fighting a dragon is the most heroic achievement
imaginable.
One thing that the dragon-slayers of V†lsunga saga and Ragnars saga dohave in common is that both heroes are youths. When Reginn has started
goading Sigurðr to kill the dragon, Sigurðr remarks that he is ‘still little
more than a child’ (vér erum enn lítt af barns aldri) (33), and it is only ashort while later that he avenges his father and then goes on to slay the
dragon. His youth is also clear in the ensuing conversation between the
dragon and his slayer. Fáfnir calls him ‘sveinn’ and keeps asking about
his father (42), which annoys Sigurðr no end, as evidenced by his childishly irritable replies.17
In Ragnars saga Ragnarr claims to be fifteen years of age when
he kills the dragon, and the earl’s daughter he has liberated finds
him more like an ogre than a man of such a young age: þykkisk hon
eigi vita, hvárt hann er mennskr maðr eða eigi, fyrir því at henniþykkir v†xtr hans vera svá mikill sem sagt er frá óvættum á þeimaldri sem hann hafði ‘she seemed not to know whether he was human or not, for his stature seemed to her as big as that of ogres is said
to be, considering how old he was’ (119).18 Thus it is an importantfactor in both stories, at least in their legendary saga form, that the
17 This is even more evident in the version of their conversation in Fáfnismál(Poetic Edda 180–88, esp. stanzas 1–8 and 12–13). The word sveinn implies acertain lack of masculine power, being mainly used about youths and servants;
note its effective use by Bj†rn Hítdœlakappi in the defamatory verses he composes about his rival Þórðr (Bjarnar saga Hítdœlakappa, 140–44).
18 Whether from the shock of seeing this monster-like teenager or not, shethen goes into her hut and promptly falls asleep (ok snýr hún inn í skemmuna ok
sofnar) (119). Compare Larrington’s interpretation of the king-princess-dragon
triangle in this volume (pp. 58–60).

Making History

42

hero is young, indeed still a teenager, a man between childhood andadulthood.19
The youth of the hero means that the climactic event of his life is placed
early in the narrative. What happens after the dragon-slaying may be one
long decline. Although it can be disputed whether the two heroes are
failures in later life, it can at least be stated fairly that neither of them everaccomplishes anything similar to the dragon-slaying. Both continue to be
brave men, in their death as well as their life, but Sigurðr gets entangled ina marriage quadrangle with Gunnarr, Guðrún and Brynhildr and is killed ata young age. Ragnarr loðbrók survives but ends up going on a disastrous
expedition to England in his old age in a vain attempt to gain fame equal
to that which his sons now possess (154).
But how do we explain this emphasis on the youth of the dragon-slayer?
To address that question, it is necessary to go on to the second common
denominator of the Sigurðr and Ragnarr narratives: the bravery that thehero needs to confront the worm.
Fear is the key
When Siguðr finally sees Fáfnir, the dragon seems impressive but hardly
enough to scare Sigurðr, as the saga says (42):
Ok er ormrinn skreið til vatns varð mikill landskjálfti, svá at †ll j†rð skalf ínánd. Hann fnýsti eitri alla leið fyrir sik fram, ok eigi hræddisk Sigurðr néóttask við þann gný.
And when the worm crawled to water there was a great earthquake so that all
the ground in the vicinity moved. He spewed poison everywhere in front ofhim, and Sigurðr was not afraid and did not fear this noise.

The saga’s insistence on Sigurðr’s absence of fear (repeated in the synonyms hræddisk and óttask) emphasises that fear is exactly what is to be
expected in this situation—lying in a ditch awaiting the arrival of a gigantic
and poisonous, not to mention noisy, reptile.
In Ragnars saga, fear also seems to be the key element of the draconitas of the worm. When the worm that dwells on Þóra’s casket begins
to grow, people become terrified of it (Þorir engi maðr at koma til skemmunnar fyrir þessum ormi ‘No one dared to come to the chamber becauseof the serpent’) (117), making her a virtual recluse. Fear is the problem
that Ragnarr needs to solve: it is the people’s fear of this serpent which
has isolated Þóra. So fear as a major theme in the dragon-slaying legend
19 This makes perfect sense if the myth is seen as an initiation ritual (Schjødt
1994; on initiation rituals, see further Eliade 1974, 17–18).

Enter the Dragon

43

is present in Ragnars saga as it is also from the beginning of that partof V†lsunga saga. When Fáfnir the dragon is first mentioned Sigurðr,somewhat pompously using the plural form vér, remarks: ‘Kann ek kynþessa orms, þótt vér séim ungir, ok hefi ek spurt, at engi þorir at koma á
mót honum fyrir vaxtar sakar ok illsku’ “I know the nature of this worm
even though we are young, and I have heard that nobody dares to face iton account of its size and evil” (33).
When Reginn has extracted from Sigurðr a promise to kill the dragon,
he keeps expressing doubts that Sigurðr will make it good, and when they
have come to the heath where Fáfnir dwells he starts goading his young
apprentice again: ‘Eigi má þér ráð ráða, er þú ert við hvatvetna hræddr’“I cannot advise you if you fear everything” (41). The text is full of talkof fear, and this is no accident; fear is indeed the key to the understandingof these two dragons. What they have in common is the fear they inspirein others.
To return to the symbolism of the dragon in the dragon-slaying myth,
both dragons may be said to represent, even embody, terror, and inV†lsunga saga this terror is somewhat over-obviously symbolised by
the Helmet of Fear (the ægishjálmr) that Fáfnir possesses. As the dragon
remarks in V†lsunga saga, ‘Hafðir þú eigi frétt þat, hversu allt fólk erhrætt við mik ok við minn ægishjálm?’ “Had you not heard how everyone
is afraid of me and my Helmet of Fear?” (42). The dragon seems almost
vexed that the young hero is not suitably scared by him, but the Helmet ofFear is presumably a powerful tool to oppress anyone and anything thatcomes in his way, the Gnitaheiði version of a Death Star. In Fáfnismál
the ægishjálmr is unexplained and may be metaphorical (as it still is inmodern Icelandic, see Jón Friðjónsson 1993, 736); we note a change inV†lsunga saga to a literal Helmet of Fear that Sigurðr can carry awaywith him, along with a golden byrnie and the sword Hrotti (47), but what
does not change is the symbolic meaning of the helmet. The dragon has a
Helmet of Fear because, put simply, it is terror itself. It rules by fear, justas much as by power and poison.
Thus the dragon is far from being mere beast; Tolkien, in his time,warned the scholar indirectly against approaching dragons ‘as a sober
zoologist’ (Tolkien 1936, 11). Instead a dragon is a hybrid of several
actual animals, with its wings and its scales, its claws and its serpentlike length—along with the terrible fire that it breathes (in the preservedV†lsunga saga (42) the emphasis is actually more on its venom), which
belongs not to the animal kingdom but to the human mind, from our fearof the destructive power of fire, well-known to humans, one assumes, from

44

Making History

the day our race first tried to master it. As V†lsunga saga clearly indicates,
a dragon is also poisonous and has magical powers, two attributes greatly
feared in the Middle Ages. Perhaps it is its magic that should be feared
most, as is tentatively suggested in Fáfnismál, but in V†lsunga saga thethreat is somewhat unspecified. One might even wonder if the words of
President Roosevelt might not be applicable, that what one should fear
when facing a dragon is fear itself or rather its paralysing effect. The­repetition in V†lsunga saga of Sigurðr’s absence of fear at the very ­moment
he encounters the dragon is at least noteworthy.20
The reason why fear is referred to in both V†lsunga saga and Ragnars
saga, immediately before the young hero accomplishes his feat, and why adragon should possess a Helmet of Fear that causes all to cower (although
it is not really explained in the saga why a gigantic fire-spewing serpentneeds a gadget for people to be afraid of it) thus seems to be that fear
(symbolised by the helmet) is the dragon’s most powerful tool, far more
powerful than any poison, fire or brute force.
In his useful article on Germanic dragons, Jonathan Evans does not discussat length the fear symbolised by the dragon, arguing instead that it represents
greed (Evans 2005, 261–69).21 It is true that in both these legends (the Sigurðr
legend and the Ragnarr legend) there is a clear connection between dragons andgold and thus with greed, both the dragon’s own greed and that of others. InV†lsunga saga and Ragnars saga, though, fear is accentuated much morestrongly. Although desire for gold may be a motivation for Reginn, desire forvengeance is more prominently voiced (37 and 41), and gold seems to provide no motivation for Sigurðr Fáfnis­bani, although he takes Fáfnir’s goldwhen he sees it. It is quite unclear what possesses Ragnarr to fight his dragon;
although he ends up in deep mourning for Þóra, he has never seen her before
the fight, and thus it seems more logical that his motivation is heroism for
its own sake, since the key fact in the narrative preceding the killing seems
to be the terrifying nature of the worm that nobody dares to approach.
A dragon can, of course, be seen as an embodiment both of its own
savage greed and of others’ fear.22 I would contend that for the youthful
20 Beowulf is also said to be unafraid before fighting his dragon (ll. 2345–50).
21 As he puts it: ‘the key to the dragon’s mythic function lies in its narrativerole . . . as a monstrous double of its human opponents and, more specifically,
as a symbolic mirror of the monstrous transformations wrought upon the humanpersonality through the effects of avarice’ (209).
22 As Cohen notes (1996, 4): ‘The monster’s body quite literally incorporates
fear, desire, anxiety, and fantasy (ataractic or incendiary), giving them life andan uncanny independence.’

Enter the Dragon

45

hero, the first is not very important but the second all-important. When
Sigurðr has killed the dragon, V†lsunga saga describes him with loving
attention to detail, his armour and his weapons, his gracious manners, his
chestnut hair and curls, his sharp eyes and his powerful shoulders. And it
ends with this statement: Eigi skorti hann hug ok aldri varð hann hræddr
‘He did not lack courage and he was never afraid’ (57). If the dragon is
first and foremost an embodiment of terror, in that the fears of the audience are projected onto him, it is equally clear that this is why Sigurðr
defeats it, and why it is so important that he is not afraid when the dragonslides over him. For the fearless youth, fear does not exist and thus it canbe vanquished. In this myth, overcoming the fear of the dragon means its
automatic destruction.
It is fitting that Sigurðr should later make an appearance in Þorsteinsþáttr skelks which may be regarded as a late fourteenth-century adaptionof the folktale ‘The Boy Who Knew No Fear’ (AT 326) (Aarne/Thompson
1961, 114–15).23 This is a reminder that there are actually two kinds offearlessness: one is a handicap, a defect in a young man too simple to know
fear, too limited to understand what it is. This is not how Sigurðr’s lackof fear is defined; his courage makes him more rather than less of a man.
Eros and courage
Although trying to find a place for dragon-slaying in the lives of ordinary
people might at first seem to slight the hero, it is precisely that sort ofreference to the ordinary that seems to have attracted a medieval audience to all kinds of sagas. Although Sigurðr is an exceptional figure, his
courage is something that everyone in the audience can relate to, since it
is composed of people who have known fear and had to rely on courage,
although it also seems likely that their relationship with it varied quite abit.24 It must also be stressed that fear is a powerful emotion which often
expresses itself as a feeling of vulnerability and loss of power. It is quite
fundamental to medieval man’s identity (see for example Slenczka 2007),
certainly in the Old Icelandic society of the Middle Ages, as indeed has
been established (see esp. Clover 1993). One may speculate whether
this cultural veneration of fear necessarily indicates a great surplus ofcourage in society. Legends of courage may have been more necessary
23 On the history of this folktale in Iceland, see Lindow 1978.
24 On the cultural importance and the representations of fear in the Middle
Ages, see e.g. Dinzelbacher 1996. The journal Mittelalter (first volume of 2007)
also contains some interesting studies of the uses of terror in the Middle Ages.

46

Making History

to the medieval man, being more exposed to nature than his modern
counterpart.
On a personal level, the legend also concerns the ages of man, an important medieval theme (Burrow 1986). There are all kinds of fear, and indeed
many kinds of triumphs over anxiety: existential, moral and physical. The
fear of the dragon can be characterised as a strong physical fear in faceof supernatural darkness—supernatural danger being especially potent
since it is unknown and thus in close union with the feeling of impotencethat characterises strong physical fear. The dragon is also intensely physical, an enormity of physicality. It is savage and bestial and its threat isof death itself: a nasty, brutish and short death. It is thus logical that theman who may defeat a dragon should be far removed from death and fullof vitality and zest, the life-force that some might call Eros.25 In fact, theperfect person to conquer this image of death is a youth, a teenager, andour heroes are indeed both in their teens. Thus the dragon can, throughits downfall, become a symbol of teenage power.
Sigurðr (somewhat insolently) says to Fáfnir as the latter lies dying:’Fárr er gamall harðr, ef hann er í bernsku blautr’ “Few are tough in later
life if they are cowardly in childhood” (43). Having conquered the dragon,
the youth can now nonchalantly regard courage as his own property, andthe disregard for physical fear is indeed a well-known characteristic ofyouth—or at least a part of the myth of youth. Young men are known
for not caring about consequences, ignoring danger and braving death invarious ways.26 They often possess great physical courage but are on theother hand given to social fears, things like being unpopular among peers,
talking to strangers at parties, being uncool, being the object of scorn.27
Killing a dragon seems comparatively easy.
25 In Freudian psychology (from Freud’s Beyond the Pleasure Principle (1920)

onwards), it is customary to acknowledge two opposing forces; the life instinct (Eros)and the death instinct (Thanatos), although Freud himself did not use the latter
concept (Freud 1973, CPW XVIII). See esp. Marcuse 1972, 35–54 and 142–56.
26 The death drive, as defined by Freud, is mainly intended to explain behaviour that does not seem to be governed by Eros. It is internal (and does not dependon actual physical danger) and involves repetition and conservative behaviour.
While the aggressiveness of youth may take a destructive form, it neverthelessseems logical to perceive it, including the fearlessness and courtship of death,rather as a part of its erotic energy (see e.g. May 1972, 151).
27 According to Carroll, it is the fear that they will be unable to handle theirown emotions that draws modern adolescents to horror films that are able toeducate them in the process of emotional management (Carroll 2010, 233–34).

Enter the Dragon

47

In feudal society such tempestuous youths formed a social group; Georges
Duby refers to bands of aristocratic youths in twelfth-century France whoformed ‘the cutting edge of feudal aggressiveness’ (1968, 200). From thirteenth-century Iceland we have the example of the aggressive youthful band,the Þorvaldssynir of Vatnsfj†rðr, who go to conquer their own dragon, themighty chieftain Sturla Sighvatsson, but whose spirited attack fails to be ­heroicsince all they encounter instead are women and unarmed men, whom they
kill and wound with all the frenzy that might have come in handy against
a dragon (Íslendinga saga ch. 71; see Ármann Jakobsson 2003).
In our Northern legends of dragon-slayers, the dragon-slaying takes
place in the hero’s youth and is the climax of the hero’s life. It must be
added that the dragon in Beowulf does not seem at first to fit into thepattern, even though it was approved by Tolkien as a ‘real dragon’ in his
famous essay on Beowulf.28 Beowulf kills the dragon in his old age but
does not survive; he is unable to overcome the dragon in the same way as
the heroic youths Sigurðr and Ragnarr do. The myth is reversed: Beowulf
had earned youthful glory by fighting another kind of monster and thenmiddle-aged glory by being a good king for fifty years. The dragon-slaying
is no longer the birth of the hero but rather his end.29 Not every dragon
can be vanquished, and the really successful dragon-slayers are youths.
Youth and fear go hand in hand in the dragon-slaying legends of Sigurðr
and Ragnarr. In both instances, the dragon-slaying takes place in the hero’s
youth and is the climax of the hero’s life. The fortitude the hero needs isthe fortitude of youth, that zest for life and belief in one’s invincibility that
leads to disregard for death and fearlessness in face of physical danger,
and in both legendary sagas youth and fearlessness are the hero’s main
attributes. The sagas’ versions of the myth reflect a youthful point of view:
killing dragons is something one can accomplish but relationships within-laws are complicated and messy and beyond one’s skills.
Uncanny paternity
As a child Sigurðr seems to have no flaws. He is young, he is strong, he is beloved, he is brave and he is truthful (see 31–32). There is no conflict in Sigurðr’slife until he has killed the dragon with Reginn’s sword. Then the dragon starts
talking. Even though Sigurðr has had advice from Reginn and more advice
28 Somewhat mysteriously, Tolkien does not count the dragon fought by Rag-narr as a proper dragon in his essay.
29 His companion Wiglaf, the geong garwiga who also manages to overcome
his fear of the dragon (Beowulf, ll 2602–2821), is the survivor instead, after having aided Beowulf in conquering the dragon.

48

Making History

from another unnamed elderly man on the heath, easily identifiable as Óðinn,the audience has had no warning that this might happen and Fáfnir’s dialogue
is also unexpected. He starts asking Sigurðr who his father is and why he wasso bold (djarfr) as to strike against the dragon (42). Sigurðr for some reason
conceals his name—the reason is given in Fáfnismál: he is avoiding the curseof the dying foe (Poetic Edda, 180)—but then reveals it. Fáfnir keeps asking him about his father: ‘Hver eggjaði þik . . . þú áttir feðr snarpan’ “Whoegged you on . . . you had a fierce father” (42) and Sigurðr in turn asks him
about the norns (witches) that help mothers give birth to their sons (43).30
This interest in midwives and in paternity is striking and perhaps a clue toa further symbolic value of the dragon. As dragon-slaying is a young man’s
business, the dragon becomes a kind of paternal figure to the dragon-slayer,
also in the sense that the dragon (and his death) is the making of the hero.
This symbolism is particularly obvious in the case of Fáfnir who is thebrother of Reginn, Sigurðr’s foster-father. It does not seem so strange thata young man should regard his father’s brother, even in dragon shape, as apaternal figure. The conversation between Sigurðr and the dragon revolves
around fathers, mothers, sons and midwifes—and fear, the Helmet of Fear
which Fáfnir possesses. It is as the embodiment of fear that the dragon isindeed the father of the hero, the hero who conquers the fear (embodied
by the dragon) which leaves others paralysed and unheroic.
The dragon, the supernatural unknown, thus is not quite as unknown as
it might seem at first sight. However, the sudden realisation of the ­parental
status of the dragon that accompanies the civilised (and yet far from innocent) conversation of the monster and its bane raises new questions
and worries.31 The conversation between the dragon and the hero and theintellectual game they play moves the dragon from one monster category
to another and thus brings the monster closer to the hero.
One might say that monsters would at first sight seem to fall roughly into
two categories. There is, on the one hand, the monster which is the complete Other and for which no affinity with man seems possible, a monsterthat is more beast than man. Many monsters initially appear to belong to
30 As Ásdís Egilsdóttir (1999) has demonstrated, the function of the dragon inimagery of birth is not limited to the Germanic tradition.
31 More than a quarter of a decade ago at least one eleven-year old Reykjavík
schoolboy was shocked and repelled to hear a scary monster in its heavy futuristic armour claim to be the father of the baby-faced protagonist of The Empire
Strikes Back (1980). But the father-and-son relationship of ogre and hero was awell-grounded part of the pervasive mediaevalism of Star Wars, George Lucas’s
enormously successful six-part space blockbuster.

Enter the Dragon

49

this type, although perhaps wrongly, since animals in literature are neverwholly similar to and never entirely different from humans (Riches 2003,
199). The other type is the monster as our double: the human monster,and all speaking monsters belong in some way to this category. The same
would seem to apply to most Old Icelandic monsters, such as the Eddic
giants, who are not only the gods’ main antagonists but also their ancestors
and relations by marriage, and shapeshifters, a well-known category of
medieval monsters, which includes werewolves and, perhaps, berserkers.
Once Sigurðr and Fáfnir start talking, we are reminded of Fáfnir’s humanorigins (see also Evans 2005, 250–56). He is a shapeshifter as well, a man
turned into a dragon, and thus is not as utterly alien as he seemed at first.
The dragon is no longer merely terrible and bestial, something that isutterly alien to the human hero, he now also becomes uncanny, strange andyet familiar, human and yet not human,32 acting almost as if he is Sigurðr’sparent and teacher and not merely a monster in the wilderness, though thedialogue does concern his monstrosity and the danger he poses. Nicholas
Royle (2003, 1) has said that the ‘uncanny involves feelings of uncertainty, in particular regarding the reality of who one is and what is being
experienced’. These are feelings of uncertainty which a young man might
have who has just killed a beast and now has to have a conversation with
it and remember that the beast is actually the brother of his foster-father.33
An uncanny relationship is established between the hero and the dragon,
who in a sense becomes the hero’s double: the evil ancestor the hero has
to fight, and who is a part of him, indeed the key to his being, and yet
also the main threat to his existence. Every father figure is also a symbolof the past and of death. The first is not so hard to argue: of course yourancestor is the past. Death is the stowaway passenger that invariably goeswith the past, and, as the past is the time that has vanished, it must alsosignify one’s own passing. Each generation, occupying the place that thenext generation will then fill, must serve as a reminder of the mutabilityof existence. The decline of one’s parents is a terrifying signal to oneselfthat as one generation passes away, so must the next.
32 In his 1919 essay Freud defines the uncanny as that which is familiar and yet
strange, thus frightening (Freud 1973, 220). As Royle (2003) has shown, Freud’s
depiction of the uncanny is complex and full of ambiguities. Royle emphasises thatthe uncanny ‘has to do with a sense of ourselves as double, split, at odds with ourselves’ (2003, 12). The dragon is uncanny because of its strange familiarity, whichmakes it more eerily frightening than it was in its previous monstrous state.
33 According to Royle (2003, 1), the uncanny ‘can take the form of somethingfamiliar unexpectedly arising in a strange and unfamiliar context’.

50

Making History

The past must thus be abhorrent: an awareness of the past brings with it anawareness of the passing of the present and signifies an end which, to men,is both abhorrent and monstrous and, at the same time, the biggest factof life. There is no shortage of monstrous father-figures in myths that are
constructed to deal with this paradox: that the givers of life may also signify
the end of life (see for example Warner 1998, 48–77). One need only mention the myth of Saturn, well-known to medieval Icelanders and expressedin various ways in their writing (Ármann Jakobsson 2005, 312–15).
Although the giants of the Eddas provide perhaps the most common
expression of the ancestor as an ogre (Ármann Jakobsson 2008), themonstrosity of death is also perfectly symbolised in a huge and monstrous
being such as a dragon, and the conflicting relationship of fatherhood,encompassing both past and future, is clearly present in the dragon-slayingof Sigurðr. Killing the dragon signifies the birth of the hero but at the sametime the death of the dragon also signifies the hero’s end, as the dragon thus
necessarily becomes a paternal figure to the hero. If the hero is erotic in his
energetic youth, the dragon is thanatic as he symbolises the mortal parent.
This dialogue about fatherhood is not preserved in any existing narratives
about Ragnarr but the legend is clearly the same: Ragnarr is a youth since only
a youth can kill the dragon, and indeed Ragnarr is later killed by serpents of
far lesser stature: the adders of the wormpit where he is thrown by King Ælla(158). Killing a dragon is no feat for a mature ruler; only youths can be fearlessenough. Thus the dragon becomes an important emblem of teenage powerin the Middle Ages, signifying that key characteristic of youth which is
physical fortitude. Although, as is also shown in V†lsunga saga, the youth
may not cope so well with the rest of his life after he has killed the dragon.
Bibliography
Aarne, Antti and Stith Thompson 1961. The Types of the Folktale: A Classification and Bibliography.
Andersson, Theodore M. 1980. The Legend of Brynhild. Islandica 43.
Andersson, Theodore M. 1999. ‘Goðafræði eða sagnfræði?: Dæmi Völsunga sögu’.
In Heiðin minni: Greinar um fornar bókmenntir. Ed. Haraldur Bessason andBaldur Hafstað, 91–101.
Ármann Jakobsson 1997. Í leit að konungi: Konungsmynd íslenskra konungasagna.
Ármann Jakobsson 1998. ‘History of the Trolls? Bárðar saga as an Historical
Narrative’. Saga-Book XXV, 53–71.
Ármann Jakobsson 2003. ‘Snorri and His Death: Youth, Violence, and Autobiography in Medieval Iceland’. Scandinavian Studies 75, 317–40.
Ármann Jakobsson 2005. ‘The Specter of Old Age: Nasty Old Men in the Sagas
of Icelanders’. Journal of English and Germanic Philology 104, 297–325.

Enter the Dragon

51Ármann Jakobsson 2008. ‘A Contest of Cosmic Fathers: God and Giant in Vaf­þrúðnis­mál’. Neophilologus 92, 263–77.
Ármann Jakobsson 2009. ‘The Fearless Vampire Killers: A Note about the Icelandic Draugr and Demonic Contamination in Grettis saga’. Folklore 120.
Ármann Jakobsson 2010. ‘Íslenskir draugar frá landnámi til lúterstrúar: Inngangur
að draugafræðum’. Skírnir 184, 187–210.
Ásdís Egilsdóttir 1999. ‘Drekar, slöngur og heilög Margrét’. In Heiðin minni: Greinar
um fornar bókmenntir. Ed. Haraldur Bessason and Baldur Hafstað, 241–56.
Bascom, William 1965. ‘The Forms of Folklore: Prose Narratives’. Journal of
American Folklore 78, 3–20.
Beowulf and the Fight at Finnsburg 1950. Ed. Fr. Klaeber. 3rd edition.
Bjarnar saga Hítdœlakappa. In Borgfirðinga saga 1938. Ed. Sigurður Nordal andGuðni Jónsson. Íslenzk fornrit III.
Brennu-Njáls saga 1954. Ed. Einar Ólafur Sveinsson. Íslenzk fornrit XII.
Burrow, J. A. 1986. The Ages of Man: A Study in Medieval Writing and Thought.
Carroll, Noel 2010. “The Fear of Fear Itself: The Philosophy of Halloween”. In‘Zombies, Vampires, and Philosophy: New Life for the Undead’. Ed. Richard
Green and K. Silem Mohammad. Popular Culture and Philosophy 49, 223–35.
Cikalmini, M. 1966. ‘Grettir and Ketill Hængr, the Giant-Killers’. Arv 22, 136–55.
Ciklamini, M. 1971. ‘The Problem of Starkaðr’. Scandinavian Studies 43, 169–88.
Clover, Carol 1993. ‘Regardless of Sex: Men, Women, and Power in Early Northern Europe’. Speculum 68, 363–87.
Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome 1996. ‘Monster Culture (Seven Theses)’. Monster Theory:
Reading Culture, 3–25.
Csapo, Eric 2005. Theories of Mythology.
Dinzelbacher, Peter 1996. Angst im Mittelalter: Teufels-, Todes- und Gottes­erfahrung,
Mentalitätsgeschichte und Ikonographie.
Duby, Georges 1968. ‘In Northwestern France: The “Youth” in Twelfth-Century
Aristocratic Society’. In Lordship and Community in Medieval Europe: Selected
Readings. Ed. Fredric L. Cheyette. New York, 198–209.
Eliade, Mircea 1974 [1954]. The Myth of the Eternal Return or, Cosmos andHistory. Trans. Willard R. Trask.
Evans, Jonathan 2005. ‘As Rare As They are Dire: Old Norse Dragons, Beowulf,
and the Deutsche Mythologie’. In The Shadow-Walkers: Jacob Grimm’s Mythology of the Monstrous. Ed. Tom Shippey, 207–69.
Flateyjarbók = Flateyjarbok: En Samling af norske Konge-Sagaer med indskudte
mindre Fortællinger om Begivenheder i og undenfor Norge samt Annaler.
1860–68. Ed. Guðbrandur Vigfússon and C. R. Unger.
Freud, Sigmund 1973 [1955]. The Complete Psychological Works XVII. Ed. James
Strachey, Anna Freud, Alix Strachey and Alan Tyson.
Freud, Sigmund 1973 [1955]. The Complete Psychological Works XVIII. Ed.
James Strachey, Anna Freud, Alix Strachey and Alan Tyson.
Hastrup, Kirsten 1987. ‘Presenting the Past: Reflections on Myth and History’.
Folk 29, 257–69.

52

Making History‘Interrogating genre in the fornaldarsögur: Round-table discussion’ 2006. Viking
and Medieval Scandinavia 2, 275–96.
Jón Friðjónsson 1993. Mergur málsins: íslensk orðatiltæki, uppruni, saga og notkun.
Lindow, John 1978. ‘Hreiðars þáttr heimska and AT 326: An Old Icelandic Novellaand an International Folktale’. Arv 34, 152–79.
Lönnroth, Lars 1976. Njáls Saga: A Critical Introduction.
Marcuse, Herbert 1972. Eros and Civilization: A Philosophical Inquiry into Freudwith a new preface by the author.
May, Rollo 1972. Power and Innocence: A Search for the Sources of Violence.
McTurk, Rory 1991. Studies in Ragnars saga loðbrókar and its Major Scandinavian Analogues.
Morkinskinna 1932. Ed. Finnur Jónsson.
Poetic Edda = Edda: Die Lieder des Codex Regius nebst verwandten Denkmälern
1962. Ed. G. Neckel, rev. H. Kuhn.
Physiologus i to islandske bearbejdelser 1889. Ed. Verner Dahlerup.
Riches, Samantha J. E. 2003. ‘Encountering the Monstrous: Saints and Dragons
in Medieval Thought’. In The Monstrous Middle Ages. Ed. Bettina Bildhauer
and Robert Mills, 196–218.
Rowe, Elizabeth Ashman 2005. The Development of Flateyjarbók: Iceland andthe Norwegian Dynastic Crisis of 1389. The Viking Collection 15.
Rowe, Elizabeth Ashman 2006. ‘Qvid Sigvardus cum Christo: Moral Interpretations of Sigurðr Fáfnisbani in Old Norse Literature’. Viking and Medieval
Scandinavia 2, 167–200.
Royle, Nicholas 2003. The Uncanny.
Saxo Grammaticus. Gesta Danorum: Danmarkshistorien 2005: 2. Ed. Karsten
Friis-Jensen and Peter Zeeberg.
Sävborg, Daniel 2009. ‘Avstånd, gräns och förundran: Möten med de övernaturliga
i islänningasagan’. In Greppaminni: Rit til heiðurs Vésteini Ólasyni sjötugum.
Ed. Margrét Eggertsdóttir et al., 323–49.
Schjødt, Jens Peter 1994. ‘Heltedigtning og initiationsritualer: En religions­fænomenologisk analyse af den “unge” Sigurd Fafnersbanes historie’. In Myteog ritual i det førkristne Norden: Et symposium, 113–27.
Schjødt, Jens Peter 2008. Initiation between two Worlds: Structure and Symbolism
in Pre-Christian Scandinavian Mythology. The Viking Collection 17.
Slencska, Notger 2007. ‘Der endgültige Schrecken: Das Jüngste Gericht und die
Angst in der Religion des Mittelalters’. Das Mittelalter 12, 97–112.
Sverrir Jakobsson 2005. Við og veröldin: Heimsmynd Íslendinga 1100–1400.
Tolkien, J. R. R. 1936. ‘Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics’. Proceedings ofthe British Academy, 245–95. [repr. 1977].
V†lsunga saga ok Ragnars saga loðbrókar 1908. Ed. Magnus Olsen. Samfund til
udgivelse af gammel nordisk litteratur 36.
Warner, Marina 1998. No Go The Bogeyman: Scaring, Lulling, and Making Mock.
Watkins, Calvert 1995. How to Kill a Dragon: Aspects of Indo-European Poetics.
Þorskfirðinga saga. In Harðar saga 1991. Ed. Þórhallur Vilmundarson and Bjarni
Vilhjálmsson. Íslenzk fornrit XIII.

Þóra and Áslaug in Ragnars saga loðbrókar

53ÞÓRA AND ÁSLAUG IN RAGNARS SAGA LOÐBRÓKAR.
WOMEN, DRAGONS AND DESTINYCAROLYNE LARRINGTON

Introduction
Ragnarr loðbrók is one of a very few Germanic heroes to fight a realpoison-spewing dragon; he, Beowulf and B†ðvarr Bjarki belong to aselect group, along with Ragnarr’s future, if posthumous, father-inlaw, Sigurðr Fáfnisbani. Ragnarr’s fellow fornaldarsaga heroes in fact
have surprisingly little to do with dragons of the impeccably serpentine
kind. Hrólfs saga kraka is the only other saga which seems to have an­authentically Germanic dragon, one which flies like the Beowulf dragon,
and whose blood and heart transform the man who consumes them, justas Fáfnir’s does. Ketill hængr kills a monster which has coils and a taillike a serpent, though it is winged like a dragon, with fire coming fromits eyes and mouth (Ketils saga hængs 1942, 246–47). Ketill’s feat is anadolescent rite of passage, which earns him his father’s approval and thenickname hængr, after he modestly claims that the animal he killed was an
unusual kind of salmon (Larrington 2008). Yngvarr víðf†rli meets someexotic, un-Germanic dragons, including the Über-dragon Jakulus during
his eastern voyages (Yngvars saga víðf†rla 1910). The other dragons of
the fornaldarsaga corpus seem either to be avatars of trolls, giants ormagical humans (G†ngu-Hrólfs saga, Hálfdanar saga Eysteinssonar),or foreboding dream­-figures (S†gubrot, Hrómundar saga Gripssonar).
Ragnarr’s serpent belongs to a different category from the other forn­
aldarsaga dragons; it does not fly, it is not fiery, nor is it a transformed­human nor a psychic symbol of trouble to come. It is essentially an overgrown snake, resembling the pairs of terrifying serpents encountered morethan once in Saxo’s Gesta Danorum, from which it probably derives. The
fight between hero and serpent shares details with the European folk-taletradition about dragons and their vanquishers: the dragon’s voraciousness
makes it impossible to tolerate, the hero must devise special ingenious
armour to overcome it, the fight also functions as a rite of passage for the
young hero. The dragon and the dragon-fight(er) have been frequently
investigated in Germanic, and indeed Indo-European heroic literatures(Watkins 1995; Lionarons 1998). In this essay, however, I shall investigate

54

Making History

the rather less fully researched links between the female characters—inparticular the heroine—of the saga and the dragons, past and present,
which shape their fates. The serpent (ormr) which Ragnarr kills is monstrous in all versions of the story, and may be regarded as a dragon, for it
is morphologically identical to Fáfnir, lacking wings and spitting poison.
Sigurðr clearly identifies Fáfnir at first sight as a dreki, noting that he isconsiderably larger than the lyngormr which Reginn had misleadingly
claimed to be his brother’s new form (V†lsunga saga 1906–08, 33, 41).
Ragnars saga loðbrókar is preserved in NKS 1824b 4to, dating fromaround 1400, where it is coupled with V†lsunga saga, and also in a poorlypreserved and fragmentary state in AM 147 4to, containing a version froma slightly different tradition. The constituent elements of the narratives
about Ragnarr and his second wife Áslaug are widespread in Scandinavian
tradition; the relationship between the different preserved versions of thestories is a complex one, laid bare by Rory McTurk (McTurk 1991). Thisessay mainly discusses the version of the saga in 1824b, but it will also
draw upon other analogues and possible sources. The saga begins with thechildhood misfortunes of Áslaug, daughter of Sigurðr the dragon-slayer, acharacter introduced briefly as an infant in V†lsunga saga (1906–10, 69).
Only a small, extremely faded and hard-to-read title: Sagha Raghnars lodbrokar, of roughly the same size as the chapter headings within the sagas,
indicates that the new saga has begun on fol. 51r, but the first chapter ofRagnars saga assumes that its audience remembers both Áslaug and her
foster-father Heimir from fol. 32v earlier in the manuscript. Next in the sagacomes the exciting battle of Ragnarr against the monster-serpent which
protects the bower of Þóra, daughter of the jarl of Gautland, whom Ragnarr
later marries. Subsequently Áslaug, Ragnarr’s second wife, is about tobe put aside in favour of the daughter of King Eysteinn of Sweden when
she reveals her dragon-slaying lineage, and, as proof, bears a son, Sigurðr
ormr-í-auga, who carries the sign of his grandfather’s feat in his eyes.
Finally Ragnarr disregards his wife’s wise advice not to invade Englandwith too few ships, and despite his possession of a shirt of invulnerability
given to him by his queen, perishes in a snake-pit. King Ella of Northumb­
ria is clever enough to recognise the shirt’s function and strip it from his
victim. According to AM 147 4to Ragnarr dies reciting the Krákumál, aheroic death-song which was much admired and much translated in theeighteenth-century revival of interest in Norse heroic poetry; the poem
follows the saga in 1824b (Shippey 1998; Clunies Ross 2001, 90–131;
McTurk 2007a). Ragnars saga thus features two women with serpent or
dragon connections: Þóra, Ragnarr’s first wife and Áslaug, his second.

Þóra and Áslaug in Ragnars saga loðbrókar

55

Ragnarr and Áslaug
The ruler of Gautland, a certain Herrauðr, delights in sending a gift every
morning to his beautiful daughter Þóra borgarhj†rtr. One day he sends toher bower a pretty little lyngormr, for the moment a much smaller versionof the same kind of creature as Fáfnir is. Þóra keeps the serpent in a box
and nourishes it by putting a gold piece under it every day. The snake
grows, as does the gold pile, and eventually it outgrows the box, and indeed
Þóra’s bower. By now it is becoming a nuisance; it lies wrapped round thebower with its head meeting its tail (much like the Miðgarðsormr) and it
has become illr . . . viðreignar ‘nasty to deal with’ (Ragnars saga, 117).1
It maintains friendly relations with Þóra and the man who brings it an ox
every day as food; the main problem with the beast is that it has grown too
big and consumes too many economic resources. Its behaviour is similar
to the dragons of folk-tale, who do not directly threaten the settlements
near which they live, and are often tolerated until the number of cattle
they consume becomes a nuisance (Briggs 1970–71, BI 159–72). Thesedragons differ from Beowulf’s dragon, which launches an immediate attackon the king’s mead-hall and the settlement of the Geats when enraged bytheft from its treasure; such aggressive and fiery, flying dragons demand
immediate action. Þóra’s father decrees that the gold and the girl will begiven to whoever can kill the serpent, and Ragnarr, son of King Sigurðr
hringr of Denmark, dares the feat. He prepares a shaggy cape and breeches,and has them covered in pitch. He makes his way to Gautland, rolls insand which adheres to the pitch, and then, having loosened the nail securing the head of his spear, kills the dragon by stabbing it in the back. The
serpent vomits a great wave of presumably poisonous blood which strikes
Ragnarr, but does not harm him because of his protective clothing, and thehero makes off, leaving the spear-head in the dragon’s corpse and recitinga verse which Þóra hears and understands. Ragnarr later lays claim to theserpent-slaying feat and proves his identity by showing the shaft whichfits the spear; this motif suggests the introduction of a false claimant to
the reward, as in the later Faeroese ballad sequence Ragnarskvæði andas in the story of Tristan (McTurk 1991, 58–59, 235–39; Mundt 1971,
131–33, 139–40), but no false claimant appears in the 1824b version.
Ragnarr marries Þóra and becomes famous across the North for his feat.
To Ragnarr’s great distress, Þóra dies in giving birth to her second son;he abandons his rule and returns to Viking activities.
1 All references to Ragnars saga are to Olsen’s edition (1906–08). The spellinghas been normalised for the sake of clarity.

56

Making History

Later, Ragnarr’s men catch sight of Kráka, the foster-daughter of crueland avaricious peasants living in southern Norway. Kráka is really Áslaug
Sigurðardóttir (or Brynhildardóttir), brought there by her foster-father
Heimir, who was murdered by the peasants for his treasure. Despite thepeasant-woman’s attempts to hide her beauty, Kráka-Áslaug is astonishingly lovely, as Ragnarr’s men report to him. Ragnarr summons her to his
ship; in an attempt to discover whether she is as clever as she is beautiful,he sets conditions as to how she must come to him: ‘hvarki vil ek, at hon
sé klædd né óklædd, hvarki mett né ómett, ok fari hon þó eigi ein saman,ok skal henni þó engi maðr fylgja’ “I want her to be neither clothed nor
unclothed, neither fed nor unfed, and she may not come by herself nor
shall anyone come with her” (Ragnars saga 124). Kráka fulfils his demand by going to Ragnarr’s ship wearing a fishing-net and covered byher hair which extends down to her ankles. She is accompanied by her
faithful dog, and has licked a leek whose smell is apparent on her breath.
Ragnarr’s men kill her dog after it bites the hand Ragnarr extends ingreeting, despite the promises of safe-conduct made to her: er eigi betrgriðum haldit við hana enn svá ‘the truce with her was maintained no
better than this’, comments the author (Ragnars saga, 125). The slaying of the dog suggests a degree of impetuosity on the part of Ragnarr’smen, a quality shared by their lord. Ragnarr desires Kráka and offers hera silk shirt which had been Þóra’s. Kráka refuses it, saying that she is not
worthy of such finery, but she agrees to marry him on his return fromhis voyage. Ragnarr waits until Kráka has come with him to Denmarkand marries her legally. However, when she asks for three days’ grace
before consummating the union, warning that their first child will be born
deformed, he takes her against her will, and their first son is Ívarr inn
beinlauss ‘the Boneless’.
Kráka gives birth to three more sons, then Ragnarr is persuaded by his
men to agree to marry the daughter of King Eysteinn of Sweden in preference to his apparently low-status wife. Although Ragnarr’s retinue ispledged to secrecy, Kráka learns of the plan to repudiate her from somebirds, whose language she understands—a trait presumably inherited fromher father—and declares her true parentage and origins to Ragnarr. Whenhe does not believe her, she pledges that the son she is expecting will beborn with a serpent in his eye, as indeed turns out to be the case. Ragnarr
acknowledges this in a series of verses, discussed below.
After Ragnarr calls off his marriage to Eysteinn’s daughter, the two sonsof Þóra seize the opportunity to go raiding in Sweden and are captured andkilled. Verses asking Áslaug to avenge them are reported to her and sheÞóra and Áslaug in Ragnars saga loðbrókar

57

rallies her reluctant sons, aided by the bráðg†rr ‘precocious’ three-yearold Sigurðr who urges his brothers, to undertake a revenge ­expedition (seeLarrington 2009a for discussion of this episode). Áslaug leads a land army
to Sweden while her sons go by ship; as a consequence of this expedition
she changes her name for the third and last time to Randalín. This nameturns up around 1230 in Iceland as a female name among the Oddverjar,
suggesting that this version of the story was already known by then in
Iceland (McTurk 1991, 179).
Ragnarr’s sons subdue much of northwestern Europe, to the extent that
Ragnarr feels his reputation is diminishing, and he sets off to Englandagainst Randalín’s advice (Rowe 2008; Rowe forthcoming). Showing
the kind of prudential qualities we would expect from the daughter of thewisdom-dispensing valkyrie—for Sigrdrífa’s Eddic wisdom is ascribedto Brynhildr in V†lsunga saga—Randalín deploys the good sense whichis also typical of fornaldarsaga queens (see Jóhanna Friðriksdóttir, thisvolume). Randalín also gives Ragnarr the shirt of invulnerability, paralleling the special clothing Ragnarr had prepared for the dragon-fight andforming a counter-gift to Þóra’s silk shirt which Ragnarr had offered to her
on first meeting (McTurk 1991, 74). Later analogues such as Ragnarskvæði
suggest that the shirt would have fitted only Ragnarr’s destined second
wife as prophesied by the dying Þóra, a frequently-encountered folk-talemotif (McTurk 1991, 80, 178–79). That is almost the last we hear of
Randalín in the saga; she eventually becomes an old woman and her final
verse laments the death of her son Hvítserkr (Ragnars saga, 168–69). In
Þáttr af Ragnarssonum (a text found in Hauksbók) Randalín has a more
extended career: she raises the children of Sigurðr ormr-í-auga with thehelp of a certain Helgi hvassi after her youngest son dies in battle; here she
speaks another verse in lament for him which is not evidenced elsewherein surviving tradition.
Áslaug, then, forms a crucial link between the central European lineage of Sigurðr’s family and the lineage of both the kings of Denmark andthe kings of Norway through male and female lines. As Torfi Tulinius(2003, 82) has noted, Áslaug’s existence makes it possible to continue
the Volsungs’ lineage after the death of Sigurðr and his son Sigmundr,
by grafting it onto the Skj†ldungr line in Denmark, through the marital
relationship with Ragnar loðbrók. The comparative success and failure of
the dynasties of Sigurðr’s two daughters Áslaug and Svanhildr, juxtaposedin NKS 1824b 4to—and the larger relationships between V†lsunga saga
and Ragnars saga in that manuscript—are discussed in Larrington 2009aand 2009b.

58

Making History

Ragnarr, Þóra and the Dragon
Scholarly investigation of the fight between Ragnarr and the dragon has beenrather limited. It is normally understood in the context of the ­mythologicaltale-type of the hero versus the dragon, familiar enough in Indo-European
myth (see Watkins 1995; Lionarons 1998, 50–51; Evans 2005). The­dragon-fight is only one of Ragnarr’s adventures in the earliest full versionof his career found in Saxo Grammaticus’s Gesta Danorum, Book IX (Ellis
Davidson and Fisher 1998, 281–91); Saxo’s version offers some interesting
points of comparison and contrast with the saga. Here Regnerus (Ragnarr)
overcomes a pair of serpents whom the princess nourishes with a carcass ofbeef a day rather than with a gold-hoard, and thus he wins Thora as his ­second
wife. Regnerus has a succession of wives and many sons by them, ­before
he dies of snakebites in Ella’s prison. One of Regnerus’s sons is named
Siwardus serpentini oculi, and, according to Saxo, he acquires his snake
mark when an Odinic figure, Roftar (= ON Hroptr, an Óðinn-name) comesto minister to him when he is injured after a battle. Although the mark may
commemorate his father’s feat, Saxo does not make this suggestion, notingthat the serpent primarily signals Siwardus’s own ferocity and the pact hemakes to dedicate his battle victims to Odin (Ellis Davidson and Fisher
1998, 281–83). The snake mark has no obvious association with ­Siwardus’s
mother, Thora. Nor does Áslaug appear in Saxo, though Regnerus’s third
wife Svanloga has some features in common with her. Svanloga has avalkyrie-type name while Áslaug has a valkyrie mother; both womenbear several sons to Regnerus and both urge revenge for a dead son or
stepsons on reluctant male kindred. Áslaug urges her sons to avenge their
stepbrothers in the saga, Svanloga admonishes Regnerus not to give way
to grief for Vithsercus in Saxo (Ellis Davidson and Fisher 1998, 289).
Þóra and her serpent coexist cheerfully in Ragnars saga; although theserpent presents a drain on the land’s economic resources, he does not
physically threaten Þóra. Rather the dragon represents a functional ­obstacle
to the marriage of the now-nubile young woman; she cannot wed until her
dowry and her person are liberated from the serpent. The dragon operates to protect Þóra’s chastity: this function is made explicit in an earlier
serpent-tale in the Gesta Danorum, in Book VII (Ellis Davidson andFisher 1998, 210–12). In this narrative, a young woman, Alvild, rears apair of serpents, explicitly given to her by her father in order to protect her
chastity. When the warrior Alf kills them as a condition of becoming her
suitor, the girl is ready to marry him. However Alvild’s mother rebukes
her for being immodestly eager to give herself to the first dragon-killer
to come along and, chastened, she runs off to sea to become a pirate. AlfÞóra and Áslaug in Ragnars saga loðbrókar

59

eventually tracks Alvild and her female shipmates down, and he and his
men overcome them in battle, conquering the women ‘not with weapons,
but with kisses’ (Ellis Davidson and Fisher 1998, 212). The dragons longforgotten, Alvild gives up piracy, dons women’s clothing and goes backto weaving and, ultimately, wifehood; conventional if unexciting female
destinies, especially in comparison with Áslaug’s post-marital career.
In this narrative, as, I suggest, at a submerged level in Ragnars saga,
the dragon(s) represents a very clear impediment to the marriage of ayoung woman. At first the creatures are effective guardians, co-operatingin the father’s plan to keep his daughter chaste, but when he gauges his
daughter to be ready for marriage, the obstacles and her resistance mustbe eliminated. Þóra seems also to regard the dragon as an ally up to thepoint when Ragnarr appears; her coexistence with the serpent invites themonster’s interpretation in courtly terms, as an embodiment of feminine
danger—the resistance which the decent woman shows to the male wooer(as personified in the thirteenth-century French dream vision Le Romande la Rose). Indeed, the dragon could well have been understood as performing this function in the context of the 1400 date of NKS 1824b 4to;by then such courtly tropes were well known in Iceland.
Þóra is the sole witness to Ragnarr’s feat in vanquishing the dragon. Its
death not only removes the physical obstacle to marriage—for the serpent wasliterally sitting on her dowry—but any psychological resistance on Þóra’spart seems to disappear too. Þóra is distinctly interested in the dragon-­slayer; she asks Ragnarr his name ‘eða hvern hann vili nú finna’ “and whom
he might be looking for” (Ragnars saga, 118), a flirtatious question whichdraws the hero’s attention away from the defeated dragon towards herself.
Ragnarr replies with the saga’s first verse: while he does not vouchsafe his
identity, he addresses her as ‘litf†gr kona’ “beautiful lady” and boasts that
he is only fifteen years old as he performs this prodigious deed. Þóra’s enquiry suggests that she expects that the dragon-slayer will become her husband. Unlike Alvild, who ‘warmly praised her wooer’s excellence’ before
her mother castigated her for ‘gazing with an unprincipled mind’ and being‘tickled by [Alf’s] enticing appearance’, (Ellis Davidson and Fisher 1998,211), Þóra is troubled by her wooer’s looks which—partly thanks to his costume—are not prepossessing. Indeed she wonders hvárt hann er mennskr
maðr eða eigi, fyrir því at henni þykkir v†xtr hans vera svá mikill sem sagt er
frá óvættum á þeim aldri sem hann hafði ‘whether he is human or not, since
his size seems to her as great as that of monsters is said to be, considering
his age’ (Ragnars saga, 119). Þóra retires to her chamber and goes backto sleep. Her doubts must have resolved themselves, for later she advises

60

Making History

her father to call an assembly so that the dragon-slayer may make himself
known, deliberately setting in motion the process by which the unknown
dragon-slayer becomes first her socially acknowledged suitor and thenher husband. Þóra’s oscillation between attraction and repulsion, thoughadequately motivated by Ragnarr’s unusual appearance, emphasises that
she too is undergoing a rite of passage, just as much as the hero of the
dragon-fight, making the transition from the protected, self-sufficientcondition of girlhood to the desiring socially mature state of female adulthood (see McTurk 2007b for a discussion of Áslaug and initation ritual).
Áslaug and Mélusine
The serpent symbolism activated in the context of Áslaug’s role in the saga
is quite different from the dragon’s role as guardian of Þóra’s chastity andsymbol of danger, which, though underdeveloped, seems to be present
in the early part of the narrative. The genetic marker of the serpent in theeye, which may originally have signalled Ragnarr’s heroic deed (though,as we have seen, Saxo does not make that connection), is transferred toÁslaug both in Ragnars saga and in later ballad tradition. In the Faroeseballad Ragnarskvæði, Áslaug herself has a snake mark on or near her eye,unremarked on in some variants, but very obvious in others (McTurk
1991, 80); in Ragnars saga no serpent sign is visible on her. Yet, sinceÁslaug is always already the daughter of Sigurðr from the moment her
story emerges, as McTurk argues (1991, 156), it is not surprising that she
too should bear, internally if not externally, the sign of her dragon-slayer
father. The potency of this serpentine connection in Áslaug’s genes,
although adequately motivated by the question of lineage, recalls anotherpowerful serpent-woman: the French ancestress figure, Mélusine (Jeand’Arras 1974; Coudrette 1982; Harf-Lancner 1984). The fairy Mélusine
takes in hand the rather luckless nobleman Raimondin. Insisting that hemarry her according to the rites of the Catholic church, she brings abouta change in her husband’s fortune and status, helping him to obtain landby means of the same folklore trick by which Ívarr inn beinlauss gains theterritory on which to found London (AT K 185 ‘Deceptive Land Purchase’;Jean d’Arras 1974, 31, 33–35; Coudrette 1982, 131–32, 136–39; Ragnars
saga, 164–65). Imposing a taboo on Raimondin, that he should neverseek to discover what she does on Saturdays, Mélusine shows herself to
be both an effective and a fecund grande dame: founder of cities, builder
of churches and mother of many sons (for Mélusine’s achievements asfoundress figure, see Le Goff and Ladurie 1971). When Raimondin privately breaks the Saturday taboo and discovers her secret, glimpsing herÞóra and Áslaug in Ragnars saga loðbrókar

61

in the bath and seeing that she has a serpent’s tail (Jean d’Arras 1974,
241–42; Coudrette 1982, 210–12), the relationship nevertheless continues,
for Mélusine is ignorant of Raimondin’s betrayal. It is only when, in thecourse of an argument about the behaviour of one of their sons, Raimondin
publicly accuses her of being a snake that the marriage breaks down (Jeand’Arras 1974, 255–56; Coudrette 1982, 237). Mélusine must leave herfamily forever, and revert to half-serpentine form; her hopes of gaining animmortal soul and salvation are destroyed by her husband’s indiscretion.
Like Áslaug’s eldest and youngest sons, Ívarr inn beinlauss and Sigurðr
ormr-í-auga, most of Mélusine’s sons are physically unusual, including theeldest. Notably, a number of them have strange eyes, whether malformed,
miscoloured, too few or too many. Geoffrey la grand dent, the most heroicof her sons, has normal eyes, but his distinguishing feature is a great tooth
which protrudes through his cheek. The tooth does not inhibit Geoffrey’s
courage and ferocity, for he becomes the ancestor of the well-known noble
house of Lusignan in Poitou. Raimondin had encountered Mélusine forthe first time in a moment of crisis; out hunting he has thrown his spear
at a boar and has missed, killing his lord and patron in error. Mélusine
suggests a strategy for covering up the exact circumstances of the Count’s
death; Raimondin is to declare that the Count’s horse bolted and that hedoes not know what happened to him. When the bodies of the Count andthe boar (whom Raimondin had eventually succeeded in killing) are found,the young man escapes suspicion and censure. Geoffrey’s boar-like tusk
thus writes on the son’s body the hidden truth in his father’s history, justas Sigurðr ormr-í-auga embodies the presence of dragon-killing in thelineage. Lionarons (1998, 50) suggests that Ívarr’s disability may also
reflect serpentine qualities, though the fact that Áslaug tries to postpone
the consummation in order to prevent the birth of a boneless son (explicitly
mentioned in st. 6, and thus probably also present in AM 147 4to) implies
that she does not view her eldest son’s debilitating condition as positively
as her youngest son’s distinguishing mark.
I do not intend to argue either that the tale of Mélusine has influenced theÁslaug story, for the recorded French versions of the tale were composed in
the late fourteenth century, nor that Áslaug’s story could have filtered south
to France and influenced the development of the Mélusine legend. Rather,
the common features of the serpent-woman story point to the influence
on both legend complexes of a shared archetype (see Alban 2003 for the
mythological history of serpent-women). The snake-women Áslaug and
Mélusine mother broods of strange but heroic sons, exhibiting prophetic
powers and wise leadership in contrast to relatively ineffectual husbands.

62

Making History

Both women communicate and endure the breaking of a powerful taboo,
but nevertheless achieve culturally highly valued feats: land clearance
and city building in the case of Mélusine; exhorting and participating inrevenge for her predecessor’s children and weaving a shirt of invulnerability, providing the kind of protection associated with valkyries, in thecase of Áslaug. Comparison with Mélusine illuminates how multivalentÁslaug’s serpentine connections are; not only does she facilitate the reproduction of patrilineal genetic markers, her serpent-inheritance shapes both
her destiny as wife to Ragnarr and her understanding and social practiceof maternality (Larrington 2009a).
Dragons in the next generation
Whose are the dragon genes which Áslaug transmits? Ragnarr’s feat as
dragon-slayer is an initiatory adventure, the first one the hero undertakes,
and, as Ármann Jakobsson (this volume) points out, it is the only notablefeat ascribed to him in a saga in which he is far surpassed by his sons.
Ragnarr’s relative ineffectuality contrasts powerfully with the spectacularachievements of Saxo’s Regnerus, who defeats Charlemagne and conquers
territories from Britain to the eastern Baltic, holding sway over most of
Scandinavia, even if his rule is frequently disrupted by revolts among themutinous northern tribes. These empire-building feats are transferred tohis sons in the saga tradition (Rowe 2008; Rowe forthcoming). Sigurðr
too undertakes an initiatory adventure of sorts in killing Fáfnir, though hepostpones the attack until he has fulfilled the primary social requirementof avenging his father. Dragon-slaying seems then to inscribe itself inthe killer’s DNA, but the provenance of the serpentine mark has become
unclear by the time it manifests itself in the eye of Ragnarr’s fifth andlast son by Áslaug. The three-stanza sequence which forms the narrative
core of the episode is found in full only in 1824b 4to, but fragments of it
are readable in AM 147 4to. In this sequence Ragnarr heralds his son’sancestry, emphasising in the first two stanzas the child’s maternal line:
Sigurðr mun sveinn of heitinn,
Sigurðr the boy will be called;sá mun orrostur heyja, 		
he will wage battles;
mj†k líkr vera móður 		
he will be very like his motherok m†gr f†ður kallaðr; 		
and called the son of his father;sá mun Óðins ættar 		
he will in Óðinn’s line
yfirbátr vera heitinn, *þátt 147
be called the most prominent one,þeim er ormr í auga,		
there is a serpent in his eye,
er annan lét svelta. 		
which made another die (?)
					(Ragnars saga 136, st. 8)Þóra and Áslaug in Ragnars saga loðbrókar

63

Ragnarr notes the child’s descent; the verse draws a distinction which
may be meaningful between the child’s physical resemblance to his motherand his legal recognition by his father (kallaðr m†gr f†ður). Olsen construes móður f†ður as two genitives (‘called a boy very like his mother’s
father’) (Ragnars saga, 200), excising Ragnarr’s paternal contribution
altogether in favour of Áslaug’s own father. The baby is also said tobe descended from Óðinn’s lineage (via grandfather Sigurðr’s Volsung
bloodline); twice as much weight is placed on the maternal as the paternalline. The sign of the snake in his eye indicates the serpent, er annan lét
svelta ‘which made another die’. This line is obscure: the subject of theclause ought logically to be annarr (nom.), so that the reference would beto the earlier slayings of serpents by Sigurðr’s father and / or grandfather.
Annan (acc.) is clear enough in the manuscript, however (fol. 62v). Olsenemends the problem away, substituting es †rn lætrat svelta ‘who did not
let the eagle starve’, while Bugge, as Olsen notes, construes er annan
let svelta with Óðins ættar yfirbátr (or þátt), taking l. 7 as parenthetical,
thus: ‘He (who has a serpent in his eye) will be called the most prominentoffshoot of Óðinn’s descendant, the one who killed another (serpent)’.
Bugge thus designates Sigurðr Sigmundarson as having slain serpent
number two, while the mark his grandson bears is understood as serpent
number one (Ragnars saga, 200–01), a suggestion which seems entirely
plausible. However l. 8 is construed, and whether or not we ­accept Olsen’sinterpretation of the sense of móður f†ður, Ragnarr’s act of fatheringand the understanding of the eye-serpent as a marker of his feat has been
subordinated to the superiority of Sigurðr Fáfnisbani’s bloodline, and it
appears that the baby’s eye should be understood as showing the sign of
his grandfather’s triumph.
The next stanza, in kenning-heavy language, also emphasises thematernal line and the brilliance of the baby’s gaze:
Brynhildar lízk br†gnum
To men seems Brynhildr’s
brúnstein hafa fránan
to have a shining brow-stone > eyedóttur m†gr enn dýridaughter’s precious sonok dyggligast hjarta,
and the bravest of hearts,
sjá berr alla ýta
he will have authority over all men,undleygs boði magni
the wound-flame’s messenger > warriorBuðla niðr, er baugi,
the precocious descendant of Buðli,bráðg†rr, hatar rauðum.
who hates the red-gold ring > generous man.
					
(Ragnars saga 136, st. 9)

Here the reference to young Sigurðr’s distinguishing feature is not to aserpent-shaped pupil, or a mark, but to the hero’s conventional brilliantlyshining eyes (noted in Rigsþula 35 and V†lundarkviða 17, as well as

64

Making History­ áfnismál 5). This verse may betray the origins of the snake-mark traditionF
as a literalisation of the shining-eye motif. The older Sigurðr, V†lsunga
saga tells us, also had exceptionally shining eyes, so that no one dared look
into them, and he also took the trouble to inscribe the serpent not only on
his shield, but on all his weapons (V†lsunga saga 1906–10, 55–56). The
final verse in the sequence confirms the snake-mark as unique to baby
Sigurðr and located in his eye; no further ascription to male or female
lineage is ventured:Svá eru engum sveini, 		No boynema Sigurði einum, 		
except Sigurðr alone,í brúnsteinum brúnir 		
has laid in his browstones > eyesbarðhjarls taumar lagðir; 		
the brown (or shining) reins of the steep					slope? > snake;sjá hefr dagrýrir dýja, 		this brave diminisher of water’s shine >					generous man—dælt er hann af því kenna——it is easy to recognise him from this—hvass í hvarma túni		he has gained in the eyelids’ field
hring myrkviðar fengit.		
the darkwood’s ring > snake.
				(Ragnars saga 136–37, st. 10)

The transfer of the name and mark across lineages thus emphasises theconvergence of dragon-killing destinies. Ragnarr’s achievement, andindeed his blood-line, is assimilated to his wife’s illustrious genetic­inheritance. Although the first stanza about Sigurðr ormr-í-auga is ambiguous enough to leave some doubt as to how Ragnarr, as its speaker,
interprets his son’s distinctive mark—who the other slayer is, whether there
is another dragon—the saga prose, and Áslaug herself, make clear that
it is her blood, not his, which transmits it. The ballad tradition confirms
this appropriation by giving Áslaug her own dragon mark, evidenced in
Ragnarskvæði (McTurk 1991, 80). Ragnarr’s Danish line—the line of the
Skj†ldungar—is thus subordinated to the glorious Volsung inheritance, andsignificantly it is through women—through Áslaug herself and through
Ragnhildr her female descendant—that King Haraldr inn hárfagri traces
his descent from this illustrious lineage, connected through Ragnarr to the
Skj†ldungr dynasty, but also to Sigurðr, and ultimately to Óðinn himself.
The saga not only plays down the value of Ragnarr’s dragon-slaying incomparison to the achievement of Sigurðr Fáfnisbani, it also demonstrates
how the erstwhile hero’s courage shades into a culpable impetuosity as
he matures. He does not value Áslaug as he should, or as he would if heknew her true lineage. He permits his men to kill her dog on first meeting;although he respects her wisdom enough to marry her before undertaking
a sexual relationship, he does not heed her prophetic wisdom about theÞóra and Áslaug in Ragnars saga loðbrókar

65

consequences of his sexual impatience, breaking a taboo which brings
serious disadvantage to his lineage. He shows himself as suggestible whenit comes to acquiring a new wife to cement the alliance with the king of
Sweden, then, in an act of outrageous bad faith, tries to conceal his new
betrothal from his wife. He scoffs at Áslaug’s revelation about her parentage until he is given ocular proof of it, is absent for the revenge mission
for the children of his beloved Þóra, and is shown up in this respect by
his wife and sons. Finally, he undertakes the expedition to England outof jealousy of the reputation of his and Áslaug’s sons. Ignoring his wife’s
advice, he sets off with only two ships; little wonder then that he meets
his end in Ella’s snakepit. There is a pleasing symmetry about Ragnarr’s
final act of courageous endurance, matching his first heroic feat. Whether
the snake-pit tends to await the serpent-killer is not clear; the pit itself
may, as McTurk and de Vries suggest, have been imported from the fateof Gunnarr in Eddic poetry (McTurk 1991, 89; de Vries 1923, 252). It isstriking, however, that in some of the ballads it is the father of Kragelil (=Kráka) who perishes in the snakepit—that is, the figure corresponding to
Sigurðr himself. Although this detail in the ballad is probably, as McTurk
notes, a direct borrowing from the saga tradition, perhaps the symmetryof the dragon-killer coming to a snake-caused end—as indeed Beowulf
does—is an essential part of the archetypal narrative (see Lionarons 1998,
6, following Watkins 1995 on the bi-directionality of the serpent-heroencounter).
Áslaug’s serpent-eyed son is precocious; his stanza as a three-year-old(surely not unconnected with Egill Skalla-Grímsson’s first poetic effort)
is instrumental in persuading his elder brothers that their duty is to support their mother in taking vengeance for their step-brothers (Larrington
2009a). Young Sigurðr is a hero like his brothers, but he kills no dragons;
his snake-mark is symbolic only, and in the Ragnars saga tradition he isovershadowed by Ívarr inn beinlauss in terms of strategic and politicalachievement. Sigurðr’s main claim to fame lies in his royal descendants:
the kings of Norway in both saga and þáttr, and also the kings of Denmarkin Þáttr af Ragnarssonum.
Conclusion
Ragnars saga rewrites the symbolism of the Indo-European mythic
dragon, distancing the serpent’s overall significance in the saga from thatof archetypal foe. It is worth noting that Saxo’s Regnerus has alreadyconquered Norway and married Lathgertha before he decides to fightThora’s pair of serpents; Ragnars saga’s move away from this pattern,

66

Making History

and the B­ eowulf model of the dragon-fight as a culminating achievement,
towards an understanding of the fight as initiation adventure has probably
been influenced by Sigurðr’s contest with Fáfnir. This fight, though not
Sigurðr’s very first heroic adventure, gives rise to his cognomen Fáfnis­bani, and his feat is commemorated in one of the few stanzas whichV†lsunga saga cites directly:
Sigurðr vá at ormi,
enn þat síðan mun
engum fyrnask,		meðan †ld lifir.		
			

Sigurðr slew the serpent,and that will afterwards
be forgotten by no-one,		while people live.
(V†lsunga saga 1906–10, 71)

Similarly, Ragnarr’s fight and his stoically endured snake-pit death are
the most notable things about him in his saga. Rather than inaugurating
the kind of empire-building career Regnerus enjoys in Saxo, the serpent
contest of Ragnars saga opens up interesting questions about female ritesof passage: Þóra’s transformation from chaste serpent-nurturing virgin
to young woman eager to marry the monster-killing hero. McTurk has
noted the possibility of a female initiatory paradigm operating in the caseof Áslaug and her adventures with her peasant foster-parents and her
marriage to Ragnarr (McTurk 2007b). Áslaug is undoubtedly the heroineof Ragnars saga: all the key verse sequences and their accompanying
narrative tell her story, highlighting her unique status as related to two
dragon-slayers and capable of transmitting the sign of that relationshipthrough her body. Áslaug is not a mere conduit for masculine bloodlines, however; like the reflex of the serpent-goddess, the French heroine
Mélusine, she is a wise, busy and effective queen, supremely loyal to herhusband, children and stepchildren. Bjarni Guðnason (1969, 34) regardsÁslaug as the saga’s central character: þar sem Áslaug er, þar er hjarta
höfundar ‘where Áslaug is, there is the author’s heart’, he notes; though
the expression is sentimental, perhaps, the critical judgement is correct.
Thus the two dragons, the long-dead Fáfnir and Þóra’s lyngormr,
configure the different destinies of Ragnarr’s two wives. The lyngormr
is an index of Þóra’s transformation from maiden to wife; her sons, lacking the snake-mark of their progenitor, die pointlessly heroic deaths in
Sweden, bringing Þóra’s line to an end. Fáfnir’s mark on little Sigurðr
finally brings Áslaug the respect and status she deserves, both in the eyesof her husband and her sons, allowing her to avenge her stepsons, andensuring her veneration as ancestress of two royal houses and the greatest
Icelandic families of the fourteenth century when her story is preserved(Rowe 2008; forthcoming).

Þóra and Áslaug in Ragnars saga loðbrókar

67

Bibliography
Alban, Gillian 2003. Melusine the Serpent Goddess in A. S. Byatt’s Possession
and in Mythology.
Bjarni Guðnason 1969. ‘Gerðir ok ritþróun Ragnars sögu loðbrókar’. In Einarsbók:
Afmæliskveðja til Einars Ól. Sveinsson. Ed. nokkrir vinir, 28–37.
Briggs, Katharine 1970–71. A Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English
Language. 2 vols.
Clunies Ross, Margaret 2001. The Old Norse Poetic Translations of Thomas
Percy: A New Edition and Commentary.
Coudrette 1982. Le Roman de Mélusine ou Histoire de Lusignan. Ed. E. Roach.
Ellis Davidson, Hilda, ed., and Peter Fisher, trans., 1979–80. Saxo Grammaticus.
The History of the Danes, Books I–IX.
Evans, Jonathan 2005. ‘ “As Rare As They Are Dire”: Old Norse Dragons, Beo­
wulf and the Deutsche Mythologie’. In The Shadow-Walkers: Jacob Grimm’s
Mythology of the Monstrous. Ed. T. A. Shippey, 207–69.
Gottzmann, Carola 1979. ‘Völsunga saga: Legendary history and textual analysis’.
In Preprints of the 4th International Saga Conference, vol. I.
Harf-Lancner, Laurence 1984. Les fées au Moyen Age. Morgane et Mélusine ou
la naissance des fées.
Jean d’Arras 1974. Mélusine: roman du XIVe Siècle. Ed. L. Stouff.
Ketils saga hængs. In Fornaldarsögur Norðurlanda 1942. Ed. Guðni Jónsson and
Bjarni Vilhjálmsson. 2 vols.
Larrington, Carolyne 2008. ‘Awkward Adolescents: Male Maturation in Norse
Literature’. In Youth and Age in the Medieval North. Ed. Shannon LewisSimpson, 145–60.
Larrington, Carolyne 2009a. ‘Stjúpmœðrasögur and Sigurðr’s Daughters’. In
Preprint Papers of the Fourteenth International Saga Conference, Uppsala,9th–14th August 2009. Ed. A. Ney, H. Williams et al., 568–75.
Larrington, Carolyne 2009b. ‘Völsunga saga and Ragnars saga: revisiting therelationship’. Paper given at ‘Fornaldarsögur Norðurlanda: Uppruni og þróun’.
Ráðstefna í Reykjavík 29. og 30. ágúst 2009.
Le Goff, Jacques and Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie 1971. ‘Mélusine maternelle etdéfricheuse’. Annales Economies Sociétés Civilisations 26, 587–622.
Lionarons, Joyce Tally 1998. The Medieval Dragon: The Nature of the Beast inGermanic Literature.
McTurk, Rory 1991. Studies in�����������������������������������������������
Ragnars saga loðbrókar and its major Scandinavian Analogues.
McTurk, Rory 2007a. ‘Samuel Ferguson’s “Death-Song” (1833): An AngloIrish Response to Krákumál’. In Constructing Nations, Reconstructing Myth:
Essays in Honour of T. A. Shippey. Ed. A. Wawn, with Graham Johnson andJohn Walter, 167–91.
McTurk, Rory 2007b. ‘Male or Female Initiation? The Strange Case of Ragnars
saga’. In Reflections on Old Norse Myths. Ed. Pernille Hermann, Jens Peter
Schjødt and Rasmus Tranum Kristensen, 53–73.
Mundt, Marina 1971. ‘Omkring dragekampen i Ragnars saga loðbrókar’. Arv
27, 121–40.

68

Making History

Ragnars saga loðbrókar. In V†lsunga saga ok Ragnars saga loðbrókar 1906–08.
Ed. M. Olsen.
Rowe, Elizabeth Ashman 2008. ‘Ragnars saga loðbrókar, Ragnars þáttr, and
the Political World of Haukr Erlendsson’. In Fornaldarsagaerne: Myter og
virkelighed. Ed. Agneta Ney, Ármann Jakobsson and Annette Lassen, 347–78.
Rowe, Elizabeth Ashman forthcoming. Ragnarr loðbrók in Medieval Icelandic
Historiography.
Shippey, T. A. 1998. ‘“The Death-Song of Ragnar Lodbrog”: A Study in Sensibilities’. In Medievalism in the Modern World: Essays in Honour of Leslie J.
Workman. Ed. R. Utz and T. A. Shippey, 155–72.
Torfi Tulinius 2003. ‘Fornaldarsaga och ideologi: Tillbaka till “The Matter of theNorth”’. In Fornaldarsagornas struktur och ideologi. Ed. Ármann Jakobsson,
Annette Lassen, Agneta Ney, 73–88.
de Vries, Jan 1923. ‘Die historischen Grundlagen der Ragnarssaga loðbrókar’.
Arkiv för nordisk filologi 39, 244–74.
V†lsunga saga. In V†lsunga saga ok Ragnars saga loðbrókar 1906–08. Ed. M.
Olsen.
Watkins, Calvert 1995. How to Kill a Dragon: Aspects of Indo-European Poetics.
Yngvars saga víðf†rla 1910. Ed. E. Olson.

Wisdom and Women’s Counsel in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 69

HYGGIN OK FORSJÁL. WISDOM AND WOMEN’S COUNSELIN HRÓLFS SAGA GAUTREKSSONAR
JÓHANNA KATRÍN FRIÐRIKSDÓTTIR

It is well known that in the nineteenth century, and in some cases wellinto the twentieth century, the fornaldarsögur were generally considered
to have little value other than for philological and comparative purposes,
and many earlier critics argued that these sagas were intended to entertain rather than edify. Scholarship on Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar is no
exception; in the introduction to his edition of the saga, Ferdinand Detter
described it as a compilation of episodes under a common title, devoidof aesthetic merit: ‘Ästhetischen Werth hat natürlich diese Compilation, welche unter dem Titel Hrólfssaga Gautrekssonar überliefert ist,
nicht’ (Detter 1891, xli), and as recently as 2009, the saga was describedby one scholar as ‘fiction pure and simple, [whose] purpose is entirely
frivolous’ (Chesnutt 2009, 96–97). Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards
were among the first scholars to treat the saga as a text of literary merit,describing it as ‘a study in moderation and excess’ (Hermann Pálsson
and Edwards 1971, 42). A hundred years after Detter, Marianne Kalinke,
who has produced the most sustained study of Hrólfs saga, characterised
the saga as the ‘acme of Icelandic bridal-quest romance’, a type of narrative in which the wooing and securing of a wife is the determinant of
the plot and has the greatest impact on the hero’s actions (Kalinke 1990,
25). Kalinke argues that Hrólfs saga is no compilation but a unified text
consisting of four consecutive bridal quests, each involving different
obstacles for the suitors to conquer, and that every episode, even apparent digressions unconnected to the main plot, has a purpose in the overall
structure of the saga (Kalinke 1990, ch. 2, esp. 50–52). Both Kalinke andTorfi Tulinius praise the work’s structural sophistication and the author’s
masterful handling of the many layers of subplot, the use of a wide rangeof literary motifs and the portrait of Hrólfr, the protagonist and ideal hero.
Attempting to place the saga in an historical context, Tulinius maintains
that the idea of a virtuous prince being favoured as king over his older
but less impressive brother would have had currency with the Sturlungar
clan in the thirteenth century, who several times during that age had ayounger brother as their leader. He also sees it as generally perpetuating
the ideology of royal authority in times of political turmoil, in particular

70

Making History

after Iceland became subject to the Norwegian monarchy in 1262 (2002,
172–73). Simultaneously, as both these scholars have observed, the saga
also deals with the problems of marriage and upward social mobility, as
Tulinius has argued, in a comic mode (Kalinke 39, 67; Tulinius 174–76).
The saga’s sheer variety and originality in employing a wide range of
foreign and native motifs and sophisticated narrative techniques marks
it out from many of the more formulaic legendary texts, and the author’s
obvious aim to edify by promoting certain virtues, as well as the intricate
structure and carefully crafted characters, reveal an ambition for the text
to surpass ‘mere’ entertainment.
The importance of wisdom in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar has been
noted before: Tulinius lists wisdom among the many virtues that define
Hrólfr as the ‘ideal king’ (Tulinius 170–71), Kalinke observes on several
occasions that female characters are wise or prudent (Kalinke 1990, 29,
47, 59), and Pálsson and Edwards stress the role of ‘wise counsellors’(Hermann Pálsson and Edwards 1972, 12). Nevertheless, more remains
to be said about the nature of wisdom as it is conceived in this saga, andhow the author communicates wisdom to the audience through female
characters, juxtaposing them with less wise males. Again and again, malecharacters are depicted as rash and impulsive, susceptible to the influenceof gossiping courtiers and keen on using force and violence rather than
diplomacy, while women often manage to sway conflicts towards peacefulresolution by giving their husbands carefully selected pieces of advice on
how to act. The wise hero Hrólfr rises above this behaviour but he is notaltogether as virtuous a ruler as he has been represented, for example by
Tulinius (170); until his wife intervenes, Hrólfr is unwilling to follow the
behaviour expected of kings, such as keeping oaths and rewarding his followers with mutual loyalty. As I will argue, in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar
the role of counsellor is gendered as female, but the content of women’s
counsel is universal; it essentially revolves around adhering to social mores
and being prudent, that is to say, showing forethought, caution and soundjudgement in all matters.
Texts and content of Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar
Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar is preserved in more than sixty manuscripts.1
The earliest is AM 567 XIV 4to ß, a fragment dated to around 1300; thisis most likely the oldest extant manuscript of a fornaldarsaga (Guðni
1 For a full list of manuscripts, editions, translations, rímur and secondary literature, see Driscoll and Hufnagel 2008.

Wisdom and Women’s Counsel in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 71
Jónsson 1944, vii) and gives a terminus ante quem for the saga’s dateof composition, which has been placed in the late thirteenth century(Hollander 1912). The saga exists in two redactions, both medieval:a shorter and perhaps older version (represented by Stockholm Perg.
4to no. 7), and a somewhat longer and more frequently edited version(represented by AM 152 fol. and AM 590 b–c, 4to), the basis for myinterpretation in this essay.2 The somewhat different narrative of the shorter
redaction diverges in several interesting details, but space does not allow
a comparison of the versions.
At the beginning of the saga two Scandinavian kings, Gautrekr andHringr, who have been close friends for years, become suspicious of eachother, and each contemplates whether he should be the first to strike. Theirapprehension is caused by slander and gossip in the hall (50–51):Höfðu þeir jafnan verit báðir saman í hernaði, meðan þeir váru yngri, ok skildu
aldri sína vináttu, meðan þeir fundust jafnliga, en nú tók heldr at greinast af
meðalgöngu vándra manna, þeira er róg kveyktu í millum þeira. Kom þá svá,
at hvárrtveggi bjóst at stríða hvárr við annan.
They had usually fought together when they were younger, and as long as
they saw each other often their friendship never faltered, but at this time it
began to fail as the result of the interference of evil men who spread slander
between them. It reached the point where each of them prepared for war
against the other.

Fortunately, Gautrekr and Hringr’s queens intervene before it comes tobattle, and both women successfully advise their husbands to keep the
peace. The kings remain friends and their sons, Ingjaldr and the protagonist Hrólfr, who is fostered by Hringr, become sworn brothers. Hrólfr,although a younger brother, is deemed worthier of ascending the throne
when his father dies, since he surpasses all other men in both physical and mental qualities. Encouraged by his older brother Ketill, King
Hrólfr sets out to find a suitable wife. He ambitiously decides to woo
the maiden-king Þornbjörg, a princess who calls herself King Þórbergr(a masculine name), dresses in armour, jousts, fights with swords and2 Unless otherwise stated, references are to Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 1944,
which is also reprinted (minus the introduction) in vol. IV of Guðni Jónsson’s
four-volume Íslendingasagnaútgáfan collection of fornaldarsögur, published in
1950. This edition (based on C. C. Rafn’s 1830 edition) follows AM 152 fol.
(c.1500–25) and its copy, AM 590 b–c, 4to (17th century). Another version of
the saga is edited by Ferdinand Detter after the Stockholm. Perg. 7 4to (c.1300–
25) in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 1891. Translations from the saga are my own­unless otherwise indicated.

72

Making History

keeps her own court, ­ruling a third of Sweden.3 Hrólfr is first forcefully
rejected, conquered in battle and humiliated by the maiden-king and his/her army, but after his second attack, Hrólfr outdoes Þornbjörg, they
marry and she turns to feminine behaviour and activities such as embroidery. After a second bridal quest to Russia, which Hrólfr reluctantly
undertakes with his brother Ketill at the urging of Queen Þornbjörg,
Hrólfr and his companions travel to England, where they dwell at the
court of King Ella. The two kings become close but their friendship istested when there is ill-will towards Hrólfr among some of the courtiers,
who slander him to Ella, as well as luring him into fighting, somewhat
surprisingly, a lion. In this English episode Hrólfr’s depiction as a wiseand cautious hero, who deserves his success and the audience’s sympathy,
is reaffirmed. The final and most dangerous bridal quest, to find a wife
for one of Hrólfr’s supporters, takes him to Ireland, where the bride’s
hostile father nearly defeats the Scandinavians. In this episode two
noblewomen are instrumental in averting disaster: the bride Ingibjörg,
whose cunning tricks are intended to help Hrólfr’s army subvert her
father’s authority, and the resourceful Þornbjörg, who once again takes
up sword and armour, travels to Ireland and helps her husband and his
men triumph over their adversary. The saga ends with all the remaining
unmarried characters being paired up, and the author’s metafictionalcomment to those who dispute the veracity of the saga (151): Hvárt
sem satt er eða eigi, þá hafi sá gaman af, er þat má at verða, en hinir
leiti annars þess gamans, er þeim þykkir betra ‘But whether it’s true ornot, let those enjoy the story who can, while those who can’t had better look for some other amusement’ (Hermann Pálsson and Edwards,
1972, 148).
Women, Wisdom and Counsel
The most important female virtues in Hrólfs saga are explicitly stated to
be prudence and foresight. When Ketill urges his brother Hrólfr to marry,his requirements for the wife’s qualities are twofold, that the bride should
be of royal birth and hyggin ok forsjál (58–59): 4
Þú ert maðr ókvæntr, ok mundir þú þykkja miklu gildari konungr, ef þú fengir
þér kvánfang við þitt hæfi . . . Þá mundi yðar sæmd vaxa, ef þér bæðið þeirar
konungsdóttur, er bæði er hyggin ok forsjál.
3 In the shorter version, the princess is named Þórbjörg and she does not adopt

a masculine name.
4 These reflections are missing from the shorter redaction of the saga.

Wisdom and Women’s Counsel in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 73
You are an unmarried man, and you would be considered a much more
powerful king if you found a suitable wife. . . Your honour would prosper if
you proposed to a princess who had both prudence and foresight.

Later King Hringr’s wife advises her husband against waging war
on his friend King Gautrekr, mentioning Gautrekr’s acquisition of awise and excellent wife as one of the arguments for keeping the peace(51): Hefir hann fengit svá vitra konu ok góðfúsa, at allan ykkarn
félags­skap mun hún saman draga ok í lag færa þat, sem áfátt er ‘He
has acquired such a wise and benevolent wife that she will bring you
back together and put right what has gone amiss in your friendship’.
Furthermore, when Þornbjörg relinquishes her status as a maiden-kingand marries Hrólfr, the narrator informs us that she is, among manyother things, vitr ok vinsæl, málsnjöll ok spakráðug ‘wise and beloved
by many, eloquent and wise of counsel’ (84). It is striking that traditional female attributes such as beauty are nowhere mentioned; noble
lineage and intelligence are the only criteria against which a prospective wife is to be measured. As it turns out, female wisdom continues
to be held in esteem: Þornbjörg, Hrólfr’s wife, is wise like all theother prominent women in the saga, and all play an important part intheir husbands’ lives, often preventing them from acting rashly and imprudently.
The association of women with wisdom, knowledge and good counsel isby no means unique to Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar or the fornaldarsögur;many such examples can be found in Old Norse literature. Unnr djúpúðga
in Laxdœla saga is, as her epithet ‘deep-minded’ and description as ­afbragð
annarra kvenna ‘superior to all other women’ indicates, a figure of surpassing wisdom, advising her deferential family members on various mattersuntil her death from old age. Brynhildr Buðladóttir is also exceptionallywise; this is stressed throughout V†lsunga saga, where Sigurðr Fáfnisbani
at one point declares her the wisest woman in the world (V†lsunga saga54), and in the Eddic poem Sigrdrífumál the valkyrie Sigrdrífa, often
identified with Brynhildr owing to the conflation of the two in V†lsungasaga, provides Sigurðr with the important gnomic wisdom and runeknowledge which all heroes need. The gnomic poem Hávamál portrays
women as horscar ‘wise’ when it advises men on how to seduce them byflattery and deception (st. 91):þá vér fegrst mælom,er vér flást hyggiom,
þat tælir horsca hugi.
when we speak most fairly, then we think most falsely,that entraps the wise mind.

74

Making History

In the same poem Billings mær, described with epithets such as iþ ráð­spaka ‘sagacious woman’ (st. 102) and in horsca mær ‘wise girl’ (st. 96),shows wisdom, tact and resourcefulness in eluding Óðinn’s advances.5
Even as far back as the late first century ad, in Tacitus’s Germania,
women are connected with wisdom and counsel, while men pay great
heed to their advice: ‘[the Germans] believe that there resides in women
an element of holiness and a gift of prophecy; and so they do not scorn
to ask their advice, or lightly disregard their replies’ (Tacitus 1970,
108). The same idea appears in Old English texts; Maxims I asserts that
it is fitting for a queen to provide counsel to her king, him ræd witan /bold­agendum bæm ætsomne ‘she should give him advice, both of them
together ruling over the fortress’ (ll. 21b–22), and Beowulf reflects thisidea in the roles of the queens Wealh­þeow and Hygd. Thus there is anattested and ancient tradition associating women with wisdom and advice
in Germanic culture.
It is a commonplace in the fornaldarsögur to describe women with theepithet væn ok vitr ‘beautiful/promising and wise’ (or variants thereof),
and these sagas almost universally feature women, mainly of noble­descent, as wise figures dispensing beneficial advice to their male kin;
the equally traditional figure of the woman inciting to vengeance is in factrare in the fornaldarsögur.6 Women also engage in activities which show
their intelligence, interpreting dreams and healing wounds, and some ofthem possess knowledge which can be related to certain conventionallymasculine íþróttir, such as academic learning (e.g. astrology) and playing
chess.7 Most importantly, women are expected to share their wisdom andmen sometimes actively seek their counsel: dispensing advice is a sociallysanctioned role for women and plays an integral part in Hrólfs saga.8
Women’s advice is not listed in a catalogue in the manner of the Eddic
poems or the six specific rules of conduct which king H†fundr gives tohis son Heiðrekr in Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks, but is rather tailored to
specific situations; thus it has an apparent ad hoc quality. However, certain
universal themes emerge from this advice, themes which can arguably
5 References are to Hávamál (1962). Translations are from ‘Sayings of theHigh One’, Larrington 1996, pp. 14–38.
6 Marsibil Hálfdanardóttir in S†rla saga sterka is a notable exception, as are
the female characters in V†lsunga saga and Ragnars saga loðbrókar.
7 See e.g. Hervör and Díana in Hjálmþés saga ok Ölvis.
8 Hrólfr asks his wife what she thinks about his forthcoming bridal quest to
Russia (94) and for advice on how to proceed with the bridal quest to Ireland(115), and Eirekr asks his wife for advice on how to receive Hrólfr (64).

Wisdom and Women’s Counsel in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 75
be found elsewhere in Old Norse wisdom poetry such as Hugsvinnsmál,
an Old Norse translation of the Latin gnomic poem Disticha Catonis, aswell as the more famous Hávamál, which values the woman as faithfulconfidante, eyrarúna (Larrington 1993, 52).9 These themes, such as loyalty, upholding oaths and showing hospitality, relate to social conduct,
and they stress prudence and moderation. In what follows, I will give a
few examples to illustrate each of the following themes: foresight, loyalty,
caution and hospitality.
In the first bridal quest of the saga, the bride, Ingibjörg, is wooedby two men, both kings: the ageing Gautrekr and the strapping youngÓlafr. Her father allows her to choose which suitor to marry and Ingi­
björg, in a long monologue, first takes care to flatter both men but thenexplains her reasons for choosing the older Gautrekr with a metaphor,comparing the younger king to an apple tree with great potential for
producing a good crop, but not yet attested (47).10 King Gautrekr, however, is like an apple tree in full bloom; it has plenty of branches andalready many kinds of apples, or in other words, he has already provenhimself as a distinguished ruler and is therefore the more reliable option.
Ingibjörg’s decision demonstrates her forsjálni ‘foresight’ and is fruitful;Ólafr is outraged at his rejection and attacks Gautrekr, who boldly kills
his aggressor along with his entire force, showing his superiority despite
his old age. Thus from the very beginning of the saga, the narrator establishes that female characters possess mental qualities, such as foresight,
which allow them to perceive what is the most prudent course of action
to take. Hugsvinnsmál also emphasises this quality, advising that one
should consider every matter thoroughly and use caution, discernment
and foresight (st. 81):
Um lítazþarf maðr á alla vegu
ok við villu varaz;glöggþekkinn
skyldi gumna hverr
ok fróðr ok forsjáll vera.
A man has to look around in all directions and beware of falsehood; every
man should be clear-sighted and wise and foresighted.

Hávamál (especially sts 58–60) stresses foresight as well, albeit more
pragmatically; it recommends being prepared in advance, whether with
provisions and housing or ensuring supporters at the assembly, so as to9 References to and translations of Hugsvinnsmál are from Hugsvinnsmál 2007.

10 According to Kalinke (1990, 74, n. 10), the apple-tree motif is biblical, originally deriving from the Song of Songs, 2.3.

76

Making History

anticipate problems.11 In Hrólfs saga, Ingibjörg’s foresight in picking
Gautrekr as her husband results in the continuation of his lineage and thebirth of the saga’s outstanding hero, Hrólfr.
Ingibjörg and Gautrekr’s marriage is a happy one and we next hearof them ten years later, when trouble starts brewing between Gautrekr
and his Danish friend King Hringr. Ingibjörg and Hringr’s wife musttalk sense into their husbands when each king becomes suspicious of theother’s alleged evil intentions. These suspicions are based on hearsay andrumours at court rather than facts, as both queens point out, and Hringr’s
wife chastises her husband for speaking ókonungliga ‘not in a kingly way’and óvitrliga ‘unwisely’, similar to the expressions used by Ingibjörg toGautrekr (52). In long speeches, the women urge their husbands not to pay
any attention to the slander, rógr, of wicked men or do each other harm,
but instead persuade them to honour their friendship and bond. The wise
and sensible words of Hringr’s wife are (51):
Ger svá vel, herra, at eigi finnist í þínu brjósti sú greymennska, at þér vilið
svá niðr fella ok undir fótum troða svá marga góða hluti sem hvárr ykkar hefir
við annan gert. Haldið, herra, við Gautrek konung með prýði ok drengskap
uppteknum góðvilja með ást ok fullkomnum friði, ok týn eigi fyrir vándra
manna orðróm svá góðs manns vináttu.
Please, my lord, do not let be found in your heart such paltriness that you willpull down and trample on the many good things that each of you has done
for the other. My lord, stay true to King Gautrekr, uphold bravely and nobly
your past goodwill, with affection and peace, and do not lose the friendshipof such a good man because of the gossip of wicked people.

These words are loaded indeed, the word greymennska conveying
the forcefulness of the queen’s argument, comparing the king to a lowly
dog if he breaks his vows. Furthermore, the phrase undir fótum troða ‘totrample on’ metaphorically condemns the arrogance, disloyalty and recklessness of Hringr’s mooted betrayal of his friend. Several instances ofalliteration and couplets emphasise the words in question, a method usedin both wisdom poetry and curses. Clearly this advice, which promotes
peace and loyalty, is to be taken seriously; the outcome is that insteadof warring, the kings remain friends and Hringr nobly offers to foster
Gautrekr’s son, Hrólfr.
Hrólfr’s wife, the former maiden-king Þornbjörg Eireksdóttir, isanother example of a wise queen. After their wedding she does not
become the passive and conformist opposite of what she was before.
11 For discussion, see Larrington 1993, 37–38.

Wisdom and Women’s Counsel in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 77
Rather, although no longer masquerading as a man, she participates
actively in matters of state and gives her husband advice, both on her
own initiative and at his request. Þornbjörg is strikingly independent:
when Hrólfr is in trouble in Ireland on one of his several missions, she
first dispatches his servant Þórir to help him, and then summons an army,
once again dons her armour and sets off to find her husband and his
companions (139):
Drottning dró ok her saman af Svíþjóð. Tók hún þá skjöld ok sverð ok réðst
til ferðar með Gautreki, syni sínum . . . Ok í ákveðnum stað fundust þau öll
saman [drottning, Ketill ok Ingjaldr] með miklu liði. Hafði drottning ráð ok
skipan fyrir liði þeira.
The queen summoned an army in Sweden. Then she took shield and sword
and set out with her son, Gautrekr . . . And at the appointed place they all met[the queen, Ketill and Ingjaldr] with a great force. The queen commanded
their army.

Although she transgresses the traditional female gender role by taking
military action, she is not stigmatised by it.
The essence of Queen Þornbjörg’s advice to her husband is to be loyal
to his supporters and observe social customs, and she entreats him several
times to support his brother and sworn brother in their endeavours, while
Hrólfr himself had planned to stay at home. Her response to his refusal
to help his sworn brother Ásmundr woo the princess of Ireland is highly
critical (114):
Þat gerir þú illa, því at eigi veit ek þann mann, attu ættir heldr sæmdar at leita
en honum. Hefir hann yðr lengi vel fylgt ok þjónat kurteisliga ok verit meðyðr í margri hreystiferð ok þolat með yðr bæði blítt ok strítt ok reynzt jafnan
inn vaskasti maðr.
That is a bad thing to do, as I do not know of any man to whom you should
rather do honour than him. He has been your loyal follower for a long timeand served you courteously and been by your side in many a bold expeditionand endured with you both good times and bad and always proved to be themost valiant of men.

Thus Þornbjörg reproaches her husband for his reluctance to help
someone who has served him well, and reminds him of his duty to his
retainer. The adjective kurteislega ‘courteously’ evokes chivalric values,
including decorum, valour and duty to one’s lord, and the reciprocalityof the lord-retainer relationship is highlighted: the dróttinn ‘master, lord’must choose his friends carefully and be loyal to them, just as they areto him. Loyalty is also emphasised by the third bride, princess Álöf of
Russia, who quarrels with her foster-father Þórir because of his refusal toMaking History78

help the king in fighting the Scandinavians who have come to woo her:
‘Mun þér þetta ok til mikils ódrengskapar virt, þar sem þú ert hans öndugismaðr ok þegit af honum margar gjafir ok ráðit einn með honum ölluþví, sem þú vildir’ “This will be considered exceedingly dishonourableof you, as you are his right-hand man and you have received many gifts
from him and you alone have been able to counsel him in every matter
you pleased” (106). Thus we find examples of both lords and retainers
needing a considerable amount of persuasion before they do what duty
and honour demand of them.
Hávamál articulates the same ideas about the reciprocal nature of (homo)social bonds. The poem stresses loyalty and generosity to one’s friends(sts 42, 44):
Vin sínom
scal maðr vinr vera
ok gialda gi†f við gi†f;hlátr við hlátri
skyli h†lðar taca,
enn lausung við lygi.
...
Veiztu, ef þú vin átt,þannz þú illa trúir,oc vill þú af hánom gott geta:geði scaltu við þann blanda
ok gi†fom scipta,
fara at finna opt.
To his friends a man should be a friend
and repay gifts with gifts;
laughter a man should give for laughter
And repay treachery with lies.
You know, if you’ve a friend whom you really trustand from whom you want nothing but good,
you should mix your soul with his and exchange gifts,
go and see him often.

The friendship described in these strophes embraces not only thematerial exchange of gifts and visits, but also the figurative repaying of laughter with laughter and ‘mix[ing] your soul with his’, oras Carolyne Larrington observes, mutual emotional attention andintellectual engagement between friends (1993, 32). In the same
spirit, the narrator suggests that mutual mistrust only arises between
Hringr and Gautrekr after they stop seeing each other regularly(skildu aldri sína vináttu, meðan þeir fundust jafnliga ‘their friendship never faltered as long as they saw each other often’) and Hringr’s
queen suggests a visit to Gautland to improve the relationship with
­Gautrekr (51–52). Women in the saga thus echo the teachings of Há-Wisdom and Women’s Counsel in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 79
vamál, encouraging their husbands to honour their homosocial bonds in all­appropriate and customary forms, remain loyal to their friends and allies
and not to set store by idle talk and hearsay; in short, to display prudence,
moderation and loyalty.
In the example of the two queens of Hringr and Gautrekr (discussed
above), female speech is coded as positive and wise, stressing the importance of deliberation, moderation and caution, and it is depicted as directly
opposite to both the malicious gossip of the (presumably) male retainers
and the kings’ foolish impulse to believe this talk and act on it. What C.
Stephen Jaeger refers to as the ‘miseries of courtiers’, an historical reality
to some extent, reflects this literary motif of negative male talk at court(1985, 58–64); compare from the Íslendingasögur the Hildiríðarsynir’sslander of Þórólfr in Egils saga Skalla-Grímssonar (Egils saga 29–33).
Competition between rulers’ followers could lead to treachery and backstabbing; intrigue, plotting and manipulation of the king, the ­opposite ofcourtly virtues, were common strategies in the pursuit of power at medieval courts. Women warn against trusting the words of the king’s men.
When a similar situation involving male gossip in the hall arises later inthe saga during Hrólfr’s sojourn in England, the author seems to offer acounter-example in order to show how a wise king should act, without
prompting from his wife. In this episode, King Ella’s noblemen initiate asmear campaign against Hrólfr, and the English king tricks everyone into
thinking that he is paying attention to their words and intends to kill Hrólfr.
However, it soon emerges that both kings, instead of becoming suspiciousand distrustful of one another, have acted prudently and remained loyal.
Here, they do not need to be recalled to proper behaviour by their wives
as they, and the audience, have already learned the lesson of caution andloyalty. This episode reaffirms the point by showing what happens when
one acts prudently.
This attitude to sinister talk recalls the advice of Hávamál about
caution and wariness, and of untrustworthy people, ill ráð hefir maðropt þegit / annars brióstom ór ‘one has often received bad advice fromanother’s heart’ (st. 9), as well as Hugsvinnsmál’s warning against backbiters (st. 74):
Sögvísum manni
skaltu sjaldan trúa,þeim er með rógi rennr,þvít málugra manns
reynaz margar sögurlýða kind at lygi.
You must seldom believe a tattling man who runs with slander, because manystories of a talkative man prove to be lies for the race of men.

80

Making History

These positively-coded speech acts also evoke the hvöt ‘incitementspeech’, or rather its absence, contrasting sharply with the negative ­attitude
to female speech in some of the Íslendingasögur. In this genre, as Helga
Kress has argued, women are often the spreaders of gossip (1991, 130–56).
The malicious male-coded talk in the hall highlights women’s extremely
positive role in Hrólfs saga.
Early on in Hrólfs saga, Queen Ingigerðr, the wife of King ­Eirekr
of Sweden, has a premonitory dream of Hrólfr’s arrival and his
intention to propose to their daughter Þornbjörg. The king asks forher advice on how to receive him, and she encourages her husband toshow him honour, explaining that she doubts that their daughter will
receive a marriage proposal from anyone worthier than the impressive
Hrólfr (64):
Vel skulu þér taka Hrólfi konungi, ef hann sækir yðr heim, ok sýna honum ina
mestu blíðu, því at hann er inn mesti afreksmaðr um marga hluti ok eigi víst,at yðar dóttir fái frægra mann en sem mér er hann sagðr.
Receive King Hrólfr well if he visits you, and show him the utmost kindness, for
he is an outstanding man in many respects and it is by no means certain that yourdaughter will get a more renowned husband, judging from how he has been
described to me.

The first four stanzas of Hávamál also deal with the arrival of a guest
and although caution is advised towards a newcomer, there is moreemphasis on the proper treatment of visitors, giving them what theyneed, such as an appropriate seat, warmth, nourishment, clothing anda warm welcome. King Eirekr, however, follows neither this codeof conduct nor his wife’s advice, since he considers Hrólfr’s social status,
as the king of a much smaller and less powerful kingdom (Gautland),well below his own; instead, he mocks Hrólfr, offering him and his
men one month’s stay as a charity to their impoverished army. The queen
is not pleased when she hears of the scorn with which Hrólfr has beentreated and reproaches the king. The next day Eirekr is more generous
to his guest and eventually he gives his blessing to Hrólfr’s proposal toÞornbjörg.
As mentioned earlier, Hrólfr goes on to win Þornbjörg and the marriage
is a happy one. The queen’s motivation for encouraging her husband totreat Hrólfr well after the king had initially slighted him is intriguing, as
she is less concerned with Hrólfr’s outstanding attributes than with foreign
politics, or to be precise, his connections to his foster-father, King Hringr.
She tells her husband (67),Wisdom and Women’s Counsel in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 81
ek vil, at þér vægið fyrir Hrólfi konungi í orðum, því at . . . þér mun verða
þungt at etja við hann þrái eða kappi, því at hann hefir styrk af Danakonungi,
því at hann ræðr öllu með Hringi konungi, fóstra sínum.
I want you to yield to King Hrólfr, as it will be difficult for you to match yourforce against his, for he has the support of the King of Denmark and keeps
close counsel with his foster-father Hringr.

Thus hospitality, an ancient Germanic social obligation which should
be fulfilled on principle, has, according to the queen, an additional strategic
payoff in this context. It is noteworthy that the queen’s involvement in the
kingdom’s foreign policy and knowledge of the finer details of neighbouring countries’ politics confirms her advisory role in the public sphere andthus suggests that she has some degree of legitimate authority.
The Function of Women’s Counsel
The motivation of female characters who dispense advice is usuallypresented as being either to resolve problems before they lead to violence or, if physical conflict has already taken place, to put an end to
it. The wise female character is a vessel and mouthpiece for ‘good’ or‘positive’ values which promote peace and stability. This could haveoriginated before the adoption of Christianity, the result of Christian
influence or ideas imported with romance literature. Just as the source anddate of composition of Hávamál, and whether it belongs to the pagan or
post-conversion Christian period, is contested, so the origin of the tradition of women’s pacific counsel is unclear; Theodore Andersson notesthat ‘the concept of moderation is older than Christianity’ (1989, 69).12
The advice frequently serves a narrative function, foreshadowing eventsand heightening the audience’s anticipation without ruining the suspense
until the end, when we see how the hero fares. The advice-giver’s role isgendered, and women are permitted, even expected, to give advice to men
in various situations, usually with the purpose of moderating a planned
outcome and preventing and/or averting threats to personal or nationalsafety. Women’s counsel is usually followed to the hero’s advantage,
proving to be socially attuned and effective. The content of the advice iswidely useful, revolving around social behaviour, such as discounting unfounded rumours and upholding one’s duties and responsibilities towards
family and sworn brothers, guarding against those with bad intentions,but also not prejudging people and showing them hospitality regardless
12 For discussion on the dating and origin of Hávamál, see e.g. Larrington

1993, 16–17.

Making History

82of social status. In Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar, women and men are contrasted: the women are wise and the men less so. The exceptions are thekings Hrólfr and Ella, who are indeed portrayed as virtuous, especially
Hrólfr, whose wisdom and caution are among his most important qualities,
despite his initial refusal to help his loyal sworn brother in his mission
to acquire a bride. Thus perhaps the ultimate sign of Hrólfr’s wisdom isthat he takes counsel from his wife instead of unswervingly believing in
his own superiority.
Conclusion
Hávamál includes a warning against the fickleness of women (st. 84):
Meyiar orðom
scyli manngi trúa,né því er qveðr kona;þvíat á hverfanda hvéli
vóro þeim hi†rto sk†puð,brigð í brióst um lagit.
The words of a girl no one should trust,
nor what a woman says;for on a whirling wheel their hearts were made,deceit lodged in their breasts.

This strophe echoes the warnings that appear in st. 91, cited above, where
men are said to be equally untrustworthy in their efforts to seduce women.
The idea of women’s fickle and deceitful nature cannot have had a universal currency in medieval Iceland since the authors of sagas such as
Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar deliberately use women’s counsel as a literarymeans to champion prudence, loyalty, honour, moderation and caution,much as Hávamál does. Women’s counsel aims at maintaining the statusquo, promoting peace and social cohesion rather than warfare and strife or
women’s independent agendas. Since the advice is normally dispensed tohusbands (rather than brothers and fathers), it signals woman’s position insociety as primarily that of loyal wife. Despite being deployed in specificsituations, female advice always has a broader relevance; lessons drawn
from it benefit not only the hero, but in a larger social context, everyonein the saga audience. The troubled social and historical circumstances inwhich texts such as Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar emerge perhaps indicatethat the preoccupation with and promotion of these values reflects theirauthors’ rejection of their opposites: excess, greed, recklessness, selfishness and disloyalty.

Wisdom and Women’s Counsel in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 83
Bibliography
Andersson, Theodore M. 1989. ‘The Displacement of the Heroic Ideal in the Family Sagas’. In Sagas of the Icelanders. A Book of Essays. Ed. John Tucker, 40–70.
Brennu-Njáls saga 1954. Ed. Einar Ól. Sveinsson. Íslenzk fornrit XII.
Chesnutt, Michael 2009. ‘The Content and Meaning of Gjafa-Refs saga’. In Fornaldarsagaerne. Myter og virkilighed. Studier i de oldislandske fornaldarsögurNorðurlanda. Eds. Agneta Ney, Ármann Jakobsson and Annette Lassen.
Driscoll, M. J. and Silvia Hufnagel 2008. ‘Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar (2 versions)’.
In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda: A bibliography of manuscripts, editions,translations and secondary literature. http://www.am-dk.net/fas/hsg.html.
Accessed February 2, 2009.
Egils saga Skalla-Grímssonar 1933. Ed. Sigurður Nordal. Íslenzk fornrit II.
Guðni Jónsson 1944. ‘Formáli’. In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda III. Ed. Guðni
Jónsson and Bjarni Vilhjálmsson.
Hávamál 1962. In Edda. Die Lieder des Codex Regius nebst verwandten Denkmälern. 4th ed. Ed. Gustav Neckel, rev. Hans Kuhn.
Helga Kress 1991. ‘Staðlausir stafir. Um slúður sem uppsprettu frásagnar í Íslendingasögum’. Skírnir 165, 130–56.
Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards 1971. Legendary Fiction in Medieval Iceland.
Studia Islandica 30.
Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards, trans., 1972. Hrolf Gautreksson. A Viking
Romance.
Hollander, Lee M. 1913. ‘The Relative Age of the Gautrekssaga and the Hrólfssaga Gautrekssonar’. Arkiv för nordisk filologi 29, 120–34.
Hollander, Lee M. 1912. ‘The Gautland Cycle of Sagas’. Journal of English andGermanic Philology 11, 61–81, 209–17.
Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar 1944. In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda III. Ed. Guðni
Jónsson and Bjarni Vilhjálmsson.
Hrólfssaga Gautrekssonar 1891. In Zwei Fornaldarsögur: Hrólfssaga Gautreks­sonar und Ásmundarsaga kappabana; nach Cod. Holm. 7, 4to. Ed. Ferdinand
Detter.
Hugsvinnsmál 2007. Ed. Tarrin Wills and Stefanie Würth. In Poetry on ChristianSubjects. Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages 7. Ed. Margaret
Clunies Ross, 358–449.
Jaeger, C. Stephen 1985. The Origins of Courtliness. Civilizing Trends and theFormation of Courtly Ideals 939–1210.
Kalinke, Marianne 1986. ‘The Misogamous Maiden Kings of Icelandic ­Romance’.
Scripta Islandica 37, 47–71.
Kalinke, Marianne 1990. Bridal-Quest Romance in Medieval Iceland. Islandica XLVI.
Kalinke, Marianne (forthcoming). ‘Clári saga, Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar, andthe Evolution of Icelandic Romance’.
Larrington, Carolyne 1993. A Store of Common Sense. Gnomic Theme and Stylein Old Icelandic and Old English Wisdom Poetry.
Larrington, Carolyne, trans., 1996. The Poetic Edda.
Laxdœla saga 1934. Ed. Einar Ól. Sveinsson. Íslenzk fornrit V.

84

Making History

Tacitus 1970. The Agricola and the Germania. Trans. H. Mattingly. Rev. S. A.
Handford.
Tulinius, Torfi H. 2002. The Matter of the North. The Rise of Literary Fiction in
Thirteenth-Century Iceland. Trans. Randi C. Eldevik.
Tulinius, Torfi H. 2005. ‘Sagas of Icelandic Prehistory (fornaldarsögur)’. In A
Companion to Old Norse-Icelandic Literature and Culture. Ed. Rory McTurk,
447–61.
V†lsunga saga. In V†lsunga saga ok Ragnars saga loðbrókar 1906–08. Ed.
Magnus Olsen.

Ñrvar-Odds saga and the Meanings of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani 85

VIĐ ÞIK SÆTTUMSK EK ALDRI. ÑRVAR-ODDS SAGAAND THE MEANINGS OF ÑGMUNDR EYÞJÓFSBANIMARTIN ARNOLD

It is widely acknowledged that Ñrvar-Odds saga is one of the oldest andwas one of the most popular of the fornaldarsögur. The saga cannot,
however, be considered a single unified work, as there are marked differences between the narratives of the early and late manuscript groups. The
earliest redactions are those given in the fourteenth-century S and slightly
younger M manuscripts (respectively, Stock. Perg. 7 4to and AM 344a4to), both of which derive independently from a lost thirteenth-century
original. Of most interest among the later redactions are those given in thefifteenth-century manuscripts assigned as A and B (respectively, AM 343
4to and AM 471 4to). The chronology of the various manuscripts, actualand deduced, was established by R. C. Boer in 1888 (see Appendix forthe manuscript stemma). This essay follows Boer’s transcriptions of theS, M and A redactions, in which M can be regarded, to some extent, as anintermediary between S and A.1 Of these, the A redaction is probably thebest known, as it is this version of the saga that is given in Guðni Jónsson’scollection Fornaldar sögur norðurlanda (Örvar-Odds saga 1954), andtranslated into English by Paul Edwards and Hermann Pálsson as ArrowOdd: A Medieval Novel (1970) (published again in the anthology Seven
Viking Romances (1985, 25–137)). Characterising this younger redaction
and its contemporaries and descendants are substantial interpolations ofa fantastical nature which significantly shift the narrative focus of theoldest redactions and, as a result, alter the saga’s overall dynamic andpossible meaning.
Elements of the basic tale of Ñrvar-Oddr as told in the early redactions would appear, at least in part, to derive from oral traditions. This is­apparent from references to the hero in twelfth- and early thirteenth-century
sources. Saxo Grammaticus’s Gesta Danorum mentions Oddr as the­Viking warrior Arvaroddus in the struggle against the berserk Anganterus
and his brothers on the island of Samsø/Sámsey (Book 5). Oddr is also
1 Quotations from the S and M redactions are taken from R. C. Boer’s edition(Ñrvar-Odds saga 1888). Quotations from the A redaction are taken from ÖrvarOdds saga 1954. Quotations from both editions have been normalised.

86

Making Historya­ ssociated with the legendary battle at Brávellir, said to have taken placein Norway before the settlement of Iceland, and is listed as a participant in
the Brávallaþula and in S†gubrot af fornkonungum, as well as in Saxo’s
account of the battle, where he is referred to as Prince Oddi of Jæren, thelocation of Oddr’s upbringing in the saga (Book 8). Further evidence fororal tradition informing the saga has been suggested by Lars Lönnroth in
his analysis of the traditional mannjafnaðr exchanges during the drinking
contest episode at the court of King Herrauðr (Lönnroth 1979, 94–109;
see also Swenson 1991, 81–100).
Nevertheless, Jónas Kristjánsson is probably right to say that ÑrvarOdds saga ‘is more like the work of an Icelandic author at his desk thanthe product of Norwegian oral tales’ (1997, 358). This much can be seenin the saga author’s learned allusions both to topographical descriptions of
the far north and to the journeys of eminent Norwegians paralleling thoseof Oddr, as drawn from Snorri Sturluson’s Heimskringla, Saxo, and SturlaÞórðarson’s thirteenth-century Hákonar saga Hákonarsonar (Hermann
Pálsson and Paul Edwards 1985, 282–88). These include the often turbulent
dealings of Norwegian traders with Finns and Lapps, and famous treks
via eastern routes to the Holy Land, such as the account in Heimskringlaof the early twelfth-century journey undertaken by the Norwegian King
Sigurðr Jórsalafari Magnússon to Jerusalem and then Syria, one whichlargely reflects that made by Oddr in the early redactions (Ferrari 2006,241).2 It is also probable that the early author knew of the northern voyages of the Norwegian trader Ohthere, as reported to King Alfred in thelate ninth century and interpolated into Alfred’s translation of Orosius.3
In addition, the saga shows certain intertextual relations with sagas ofaround the same period, although one cannot always be sure which saga
is influencing which. The most noteworthy of these is Norna-Gests þáttr,whose eponymous hero, like Oddr, is cursed with long life by a maliciousv†lva and who, also like Oddr, receives Christian baptism. Parallels to
episodes in Ñrvar-Odds saga are to be found in the resentment of heathen
prophecy by Ingimundr of Vatnsdœla saga who, like Oddr, subsequently
journeys to visit his father, and, probably from the same traditions as Saxo’s
Arvaroddus tale, the account of the battle on Sámsey in Hervarar saga ok
2 Ferrari also notes that the S redaction mentions Viðkunnr of Bjarkey, who

in Heimskringla’s account of King Sigurðr’s life was Sigurðr’s friend, among
Oddr’s descendants.
3 R. C. Boer suggested that Ohthere was the historical Oddr (1892, 102–05), a
speculation that has not found favour with historians. For an edition of Ohthere’s
account, see Ross (1981).

Ñrvar-Odds saga and the Meanings of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani 87Heiðreks konungs (Tolkien 1960, xii; see also Mitchell 2003, 245–56).
This saga includes a version of the death-poem of Oddr’s Viking bloodbrother Hjálmarr, but unlike Ñrvar-Odds saga, recounts that Hjálmarr’s
single combat with Angantýr is motivated by their rivalry over a woman,
the Swedish princess Ingibj†rg. It is also clear that the early author was
familiar with tales of Viking adventures í austrveg; for example, in the S
redaction, Oddr’s adoption of the sobriquet víðf†rull ‘Wide-Traveller’ atHerrauðr’s court, and in all redactions concerning this episode, the namesof Jólfr, a helpful peasant, and Silkisif, the king’s daughter and later Oddr’s
wife, are particularly reminiscent of Yngvars saga víðf†rla.4
This literary and, more important, historical embedding (bogus though
this history often is) of the tale of Ñrvar-Oddr is relevant to our understanding of the messages contained in the early redactions, which, asTorfi Tulinius has pointed out in his study of the fornaldarsögur, are set
on communicating the virtue of royal governance (2002, 162). This is amessage that would have had particular significance for late thirteenth- andearly fourteenth-century Icelanders recently fallen under the royal jurisdiction of Norway. Associating Oddr with wide geography, antipathies
to heathendom and royal personages lends to the hero a credibility and tohis saga an authority that would have carried the saga audience along toan understanding of wider European politics and governance. This paper
will show how the saga’s concerns change over time by examining thesignificance of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani, a mysterious figure in the older
redactions whose role is massively expanded in the younger redactions. For
the purposes of contrast and comparison, it is first necessary to consider
certain key events in Oddr’s life as described in the S and M redactions,which are also retained in the A redaction (see Tulinius 2002, 321–26).
These are the v†lva’s curse, Oddr’s acceptance of Hjálmarr’s Viking code,
his encounter with Ñgmundr, his conversion and his subsequent entry into
the service of King Herrauðr.
The framing plot of Ñrvar-Odds saga is derived from the visit of av†lva to the homestead of Oddr’s foster-father, Ingjaldr, at Berurjóðr
in Norway, when Oddr is yet an untested and somewhat uncooperative
young man. Despite Oddr’s displeasure at her presence and, even more,at her determination to predict his future, the v†lva will not be put off
by his threats and insults. The consequence of this confrontation is the
4 Another obvious intertextual link is that between Ñrvar-Odds saga and Hrólfs
saga Gautrekssonar. Torfi Tulinius is probably correct in concluding that the latter is indebted to the former (2002, 168).

88

Making History

worse for Oddr, for she does not merely foresee his future but appears
to fashion it: he will live for three hundred years, wander from land toland, win great renown but die where he started out, in Berurjóðr, from asnakebite delivered from the skull of the farm horse Faxi.5 Although (unlike Ingjaldr) aldri vildi Oddr blóta ‘Oddr would never make sacrifices’,
but instead, trúði hann á mátt sinn ok megin ‘he trusted in his might andmain’ (S: Ñrvar-Odds saga 1888, 9), there can be little doubt that Oddr
fears the power of the v†lva’s predictions. So much is apparent both in
his violent response to her and in his efforts to confound his apparent
destiny by killing and burying Faxi and determining to quit Berurjóðr for
good. He may not care for heathendom but that does not mean he doubts
its potency; rather, he devotes much of life to combating it. Whatever else
Oddr’s anti-heathendom might signify, the author of Ñrvar-Odds saga
clearly recognised that much of the entertainment value of his narrative
depended on dramatising figures from a belief system that was long past
having any strict congregation of adherents.6
After sailing to the home of his blood relatives on the northern isle of Hrafnista
and receiving three magic arrows, the so-called Gusir’s Gifts (Gusis­nautar),from his father Grímr loðinkinni, Oddr ventures on a series of Viking voyages, during which he loots and desecrates a sacred mound in Permia (Bjarmaland), and establishes his ability to confound vengeful giants and overcome
fierce human adversaries. Eventually he meets his match in the form of theViking Hjálmarr and his blood-brother Þórðr, and they agree to join forces.
One condition of this is that Oddr and his companions accept a víkingal†g(S: Ñrvar-Odds saga 1888, 65), a Viking code of practice. This entails aban on eating raw flesh,7 never robbing merchants or peasants (except, adds
Hjálmarr pragmatically, to cover immediate needs), and never attacking
women or forcing them aboard ship, this last injunction to be enforced on
penalty of death. As was indicated on Oddr’s first voyage, he is already disposed toward what might be called responsible Viking behaviour and so thepact is made. He now sails to Sweden, where, under Hjálmarr’s guidance
and recommendation, he receives kingly patronage for the first time.
5 The prophecy and exact circumstances of Oddr’s death are the same as those
told about the Rus king Oleg in the early twelfth-century Russian Primary Chronicle. See Chadwick (1946, 145–74) for a fascinating discussion of the complex
interrelation between Ñrvar-Odds saga and early Russian sources.
6 John McKinnell’s discussion of v†lur suggests that by the thirteenth century
they were little more than literary devices and that, in wider Icelandic society, belief in their power had dwindled to folk superstition (McKinnell 2005, 95–108).
7 S uniquely adds ok eigi blóðdrekka.

Ñrvar-Odds saga and the Meanings of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani 89
Further adventures follow, during which Oddr suffers the death of his
foster-brother in Ireland but is compensated with a shirt of invulnerability
by Princess Ñlv†r, whom he marries and whose kingdom he helps secure.
Shortly afterward, in much reduced circumstances, he and Hjálmarr comeacross the fearsomely aggressive and ugly Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani, who
tells Oddr ‘ek hefi þín leitat um hríð’ “I have been looking for you for awhile” (S); an assertion which is emphasised in M with alla mína ævi ‘allmy life’ (Ñrvar-Odds saga 1888, 90). Neither is victorious in the ensuingsea-battle, where Ñgmundr proves to be as impossible to harm as Oddr
does, leading Oddr to suspect that his opponent is more troll than man.
As a consequence of this stalemate Ñgmundr offers a truce, which Oddr
eventually accepts, only to discover later that Ñgmundr has subsequently
murdered Þórðr. Given that Þórðr was Oddr’s blood-brother, Oddr is boundto seek vengeance, but Ñgmundr is nowhere to be found. No explanation
is offered as to what motivates Ñgmundr in his search for Oddr, nor is it
made clear what kind of being he is.8 Beyond this inconclusive encounter,he never appears again in either the S or M accounts, although M alludes
to a further unsuccessful search for him when Oddr leaves Sweden enroute for Sámsey, and S records Oddr mentioning his encounter with him
in one of the verses he composes during the drinking contest at the courtof King Herrauðr.9 From the point of view of narrative art and cohesion,Ñgmundr is a conspicuous loose end in these early redactions.
Thereafter Oddr’s good fortune seems to have deserted him, and he now
suffers the loss of Hjálmarr in the ill-judged and ill-fated fight against
Angantýr on Sámsey,10 after which even more misfortune follows. It isshortly after this run of bad luck that Oddr is converted to Christianity.
As Stephen Mitchell has noted, there is a marked difference between
redactions S and M in their treatment of Oddr’s conversion (Mitchell
1991, 109–14). According to S, Oddr goes first to Greece and from there
takes ship to Sicily, where a certain Abbot Hugi comes to meet him. After
receiving a sermon from Hugi on the glory of God, lét Oddr sér þat alt
vel skiljask ‘Oddr allowed himself to be convinced’ (S: Ñrvar-Odds saga
1888, 113). Hugi now offers to baptise Oddr but Oddr declines and kvazk
mundu sjá fyrst siðu þeira ‘said he first wanted to see their customs’ (S:8 The difficulty in identifying the creature category to which Ñgmundr belongs

is considered by Ármann Jakobsson, who suggests that he might best be considered a being ‘infused by sorcery’ (2009, 188). This identification is made more
explicit in the younger redactions.
9 These verses are absent from M.
10 The Sámsey episode is not present in S.

90

Making HistoryÑrvar-Odds saga 1888, 115). Some months later, at Hugi’s request, Oddr
sets out to cleanse the Greek islands of brigands. On his return to Sicily,
he and all his men are baptised but Oddr, unlike his companions, soon
becomes bored with the quiet life and slips away.
Perhaps the author of the M redaction detected ‘the humor latent in S’(Mitchell 1991, 111), for in this account Oddr’s army is shipwrecked off thecoast of Aquitaine and when they come ashore and find a church building
all they can do is puzzle over its significance. Oddr and his companions
appear childlike in their questions about Christian beliefs and practices,
although Oddr’s rejoinder that their only belief is in their ‘might and main’
betrays something of his entrenched heroic mentality, as does his pithy
remark that the Creator of all things mun mikill vera, er þat hefir skapat‘must be great who fashioned that’ (M: Ñrvar-Odds saga 1888, 114).
Oddr eventually accepts the new faith but with the qualification that hevildi sjálfr þó ráða h†gum sínum, sem honum líkaði ‘wanted to decide his
affairs himself as he liked’ (M: Ñrvar-Odds saga 1888, 114). In addition
to this more guarded and slightly comic conversion, M adds that whenOddr tries to leave he witnesses the unprovoked killing of a bishop, whom
he avenges. Despite the appreciation of the Christians and the invitation
to become their leader, Oddr again discreetly exits.
Oddr now becomes a solitary wanderer, heading first to the Holy Land
where he bathes in the River Jordan.11 He then journeys into the wilderness and lives off no more than he can forage, although prior to this in
S he gives royal service in Hungary (Ungaraland). Both redactions now
bring Oddr into Húnaland,12 disguised under a great cloak and callinghimself víðf†rull ‘Wide-Traveller’ in S, or dressed in bark and callinghimself næframaðr ‘Barkman’ in M.13 Having gained more magical weaponry from a peasant named Jólfr, he then presents himself before King
Herrauðr, still in disguise, and declares himself to be all but talentless.
Oddr is rapidly inveigled into a series of contests against the king’s two
champions, concluding in a declamatory drinking contest. Clearly a man
11 In S he arrives in the Holy Land as the sole survivor of a shipwreck.

12 Húnaland is difficult to locate, although it is most likely a northern kingdom
in these redactions.
13 Paul Edwards and Hermann Pálsson note that Oddr’s appearance as Barkman is analogous to the folklore figure the Wild Man of the Wood and rituals
associated with death and regeneration, as described in Frazer’s Golden Bough(Edwards and Hermann Pálsson 1970, xv–xvi). A medieval analogy can also beseen in the Middle English poem Sir Orfeo and perhaps also in the degeneration
and restoration of Nebuchadnezzar, as told in Daniel 5.

Ñrvar-Odds saga and the Meanings of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani 91
of exceptional talent, Oddr abandons his disguise, revealing himself to be
splendidly attired and youthful in appearance. The great service he thenperforms for Herrauðr, gathering tribute from demonic pagan adversaries
in the kingdom of Bjalka, leads to his being crowned Herrauðr’s successor
and to marriage to the king’s daughter, Silkisif.14 All that remains is forthe v†lva’s prophecy to be fulfilled back at Berurjóðr.
There are certain ways in which these redactions of Ñrvar-Odds saga
can be read as a form of Bildungsroman. One would be to see Oddr’s
career as in certain ways similar to that of Beowulf or that of the rags-toriches folk-tale hero.15 Thus the unpromising youth becomes the upright
warrior-supreme, who undertakes royal service and eventually achieves
royal authority. Along the way there is some soul-searching, signalled not
only by Oddr’s conversion but also by his sojourn in the wilderness andhis eventual social rehabilitation. On the one hand, this would seem to bestraightforward enough, yet, on the other, there is a significant ideological tension to take into account: that between the heathendom that, fromthe outset, determines Oddr’s preternaturally long life, and his Christiancredentials. Another way of reading Oddr’s career, as considered by
Torfi Tulinius (2002, 159–64), derives from the underlying hagiographic
narrative model for his saga. The vita-like focus on the life of a single
individual, Oddr’s violent opposition to heathendom, his willing embraceof Hjálmarr’s víkingal†g and his acquiescence in the wisdom of Abbot
Hugi are all suggestive of moral and spiritual growth. Yet this reading is
also unsatisfactory for two reasons: first, as Torfi says, Oddr is evidently
no saint; second, here again the paradox of a Christian hero living his life
within the context of a heathen prophecy is overlooked. The question, then,is this: how much importance should we attach to Oddr’s conversion?
On the face of it, Oddr’s conversion in the S redaction appears ­somewhat
perfunctory. There is no indication that he has gained any sophisticatedunderstanding of Christian teachings, and his journey to the Holy Landis very briefly described, as it were en passant. After this there is no
explicit mention of Christian values at any point in the saga. The M­redaction is even less convincing on this matter, as the author seems to
be more concerned with amusing his audience than conveying any notion
14 See Lassen (2009, 256–67) for a discussion of the theological implicationsof Oddr’s anti-paganism in this episode and elsewhere in the various redactionsof his saga.
15 This tale-type is listed in Boberg (1966) under ‘L. Reversal of Fortune:
L101. Unpromising hero (male Cinderella)’. The Norwegian folk-tale sequence‘Boots’ also has certain similarities (Dasent 1888, 36–38, 48–49 and 215–21).

92

Making Historyof Oddr ­finding some kind of spiritual accommodation. Lars Lönnroth’s
enlightening study of the concept of the ‘noble heathen’ does, however,seem to have some broad application to Ñrvar-Odds saga, particularlyin the medieval Icelandic ‘need to reconcile pride in pagan ancestors
and contemporary Christian belief’ (1969, 4).16 Certainly Oddr does appear to represent aspects of ‘Natural Law’ and ‘Natural Religion’ before
his conversion but, beyond it, there is no deeper conviction that would
indicate any revelation from the Holy Spirit. Nor is it quite the case that
Oddr’s conversion dramatically alters his perception of royal service,for he appears to recognise the importance of this after his service to the
Swedish king with Hjálmarr, thereafter assuming the role of Commander
in Chief in Ireland as husband of Princess Ñlv†r, and, shortly after this,helping a dispossessed Viking achieve kingship in England, all of which
occurs some time before he is baptised. This being the case, Oddr’s conversion may better be regarded as convention and orthodoxy; a way forthe sagnamaðr to ‘make his pagan hero, whose not so Christian exploits
he has been indulgently describing, acceptable to a Christian audience’(Lönnroth 1969, 20).17
As much as anything, then, Oddr’s conversion is a literary concession
to present-day cultural values, albeit a necessary one. In keeping with his
Heroic Age origins, Oddr’s true belief appears to be in his mátt ok megin,
but what is required of him is that he find an appropriate direction for it.
A more profitable line of investigation, therefore, would be to consider
Oddr’s development in terms of the need for social order. The message ofthe early redactions, suggests Torfi Tulinius, is that ‘one can win honour
only by complying with certain rules and consenting to integration withthe social structure that governs other members of that society’ (Tulinius
2002, 162). Sustained upward mobility ‘must come by way of court’. If
royal service is the positive in the saga, the negative is all that seeks to
confound or contradict it.18 This is represented by anything associatedwith heathendom.
On only two occasions does Oddr fail to overcome these negatives.
The first is the prophecy of the v†lva, both an unwelcome intimation ofmortality and an offence against nature, but evidently an ineluctable force.
The second is his encounter with the enigmatic Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani; an
16 Lönnroth does not discuss Ñrvar-Odds saga in his study.

17 In respect of the issues of honour and revenge, Lönnroth also points out thepragmatic overlap between pagan and Christian views (1969, 23–29).
18 Alexey Eremenko sees these positives and negatives as a structural divide
between the unethical ‘magic world’ and the ethical ‘real world’ (2006, 217–22).

Ñrvar-Odds saga and the Meanings of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani 93
opponent of Oddr’s that is consistently denoted as non-human, and theonly aggressor that he fails to overcome. Both these figures are anomalous in terms of the ideals concerning European kingship that are at theheart of the S and M redactions. Yet, while the v†lva’s curse grants to thesaga a satisfying symmetry, Ñgmundr’s role lacks narrative coherence.
It is tempting to regard Ñgmundr’s fleeting but consequential appearance either as signifying Oddr’s mortal limitations or as indicative ofsomething unresolved in what the Marxist critic Fredric Jameson calleda narrative’s ‘political unconscious’ (Jameson 1981); in other words as
symbolising a profound social tension below the level of the saga’s plot
formulations. Perhaps, however, this would be to rest too much on too
little, and a more likely explanation, provocative though this may be, isthat the peculiarity of Ñgmundr in the early redactions is no more thanan instance of poor composition. There may well have been a number ofreasons why fifteenth-century redactors sought to reformulate Ñrvar-Odds
saga, audience taste not being the least of them, but the unrealised narrative
potential of Ñgmundr was surely something that was noticed. In seeking
to rectify this problem, they effectively produced a very different saga.
The first major interpolation in the A redaction occurs immediately after
Oddr’s journey to the Holy Land, when he wanders alone into the wilderness. Here he is carried to the nest of a huge vulture from which he sees noescape, until a giant in a stone boat rescues him and takes him to Giantland(Risaland). Unlike the giants that he battled during his adventures in Permia, this one is amiable, if somewhat stupid. Oddr is given to the giant’s
daughter as a plaything and, much to everyone’s surprise, he gets her pregnant. After advising the giant how he might win a contest to become king of
Giantland, Oddr departs, having agreed that his child should be sent to him
at the age of ten, should it be a boy. Restored to prosperity by a reward fromthe giant, now a king, Oddr encounters the mysterious Rauðgrani (Redbeard), a figure about whom the author later, rather neutrally, remarks, Þykkirm†nnum sem Óðinn muni þat verit hafa reyndar ‘People reckon that in fact
it must have been Óðinn’ (Ñrvar-Odds saga 1954, 297).19 Oddr confides toRauðgrani his wish to take vengeance on Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani, whereupon
he is informed that Ñgmundr is a demonic creature specifically engineered
19 Following Boer’s edition, critics have concluded that Rauðgrani and Óðinn

are one and the same, and that therefore the assistance accepted by Oddr fromÓðinn is inconsistent with his anti-paganism (see, for example, Kroesen 1993,
744). It is, however, worth noting that the author distances himself from thiscertainty. For an examination of Óðinn in the fornaldarsögur, see Lassen 2001,
205–19.

94

Making History

by the Permians to kill Oddr in revenge for his desecration of their sacredsites. The otherwise puzzling statement in the M redaction that Ñgmundr’s
search for Oddr has been lifelong is thus rationalised.
There now follow four episodes devoted to Oddr’s struggle againstÑgmundr, during which time Oddr kills Ñgmundr’s half-human, halfbeast mother (a finngálkn), Ñgmundr kills Oddr’s formidable giant son,and Ñgmundr marries the giantess Geirríðr, daughter of Geirr†ðr, bothof whom Oddr also kills.20 Oddr’s feud against Ñgmundr, interspersedwith more Viking adventures in the company of new blood-brothers asarranged by Rauðgrani, takes him across the Viking world. Nothing is
resolved one way or the other, although Ñgmundr is facially mutilated in
the last of this sequence of fights with Oddr. From this point Rauðgraniplays no further part, being, as the author tells us, disinclined to participate
in violent conflict and preferring to encourage others toward this end. If
this is Óðinn, he is a parody of his former mythological self.
Hereafter the A redaction follows S and M from the point where Oddr
arrives in Herrauðr’s kingdom (here set in Russia/Garðaríki) right throughto Oddr’s devastation of pagan Bjalka (said here to be in the region of
Antioch) and his subsequent elevation to kingship. The final meeting withÑgmundr is then recounted. Ñgmundr is calling himself Kvillánus and isruling vast territories from his court in Novgorod (Hólmgarðr). He wears amask, partly for cosmetic reasons. Once Oddr realises who this is, a battleensues in which Oddr kills Ñgmundr’s son and Ñgmundr kills the last of
Oddr’s blood-brothers. Come nightfall, with Novgorod and Ñgmundr’s
army all but destroyed, Oddr slips away. One more interpolation follows
in which Oddr successfully champions a certain dispossessed king against
his usurper, an episode that Oddr’s death-poem, his ævidrápa, associateswith the legendary battle at Brávellir (verse 63), but which otherwise carries little narrative significance.21 Later, settled back in his kingdom, Oddr
receives costly gifts and offers of reconciliation from Ñgmundr which heaccepts, realising that his opponent is more andi en maðr ‘a spirit than aman’ (Örvar-Odds saga 1954, 337). Beyond this, the trajectory of Oddr’slife is the same as that in the S and M redactions.
20 There is a mythological reference here to Þórr’s struggle against Geirröðr asgiven in the late tenth-century Þórsdrápa, attributed to Eilífr Goðrúnarson, andin Snorri Sturluson’s Skáldskaparmál (for both see Faulkes, ed., 1998, I 24–30;
and Faulkes, trans., 1987, 81–86).
21 Structurally, this episode resembles one that is otherwise unique to the S
redaction and takes place between Oddr’s visit to the Holy Land and his arrival
in Herrauðr’s kingdom.

Ñrvar-Odds saga and the Meanings of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani 95
The world of Ñrvar-Oddr in the younger redactions is much moree­ mphatically two worlds. There is still the ‘real’ world of the older redactions, predominantly a materialistic place where Oddr seeks to improve
himself and ultimately his society, but where there is the vexation ofcontrary forces from an old order that occasionally precipitates slippage
into unwelcome strangeness. Although the hero has the mettle, the equipment and the predisposition to combat these forces, they nonetheless haunt
him and finally, in the curse laid upon him, encompass his life. But in theotherworld of the younger redactions, these same forces are multiplied andpreoccupy the hero to no lasting advantage. How, then, might this expanded
fantastical world, and particularly the figure of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani, be
understood in a fifteenth-century context and more generally in terms ofmedieval Icelandic literary traditions?
One approach to understanding Ñgmundr’s symbolic function is indicated by Paul Edwards and Hermann Pálsson, who tentatively suggest that
there are sufficient similarities between Oddr and Ñgmundr to regard thelatter as ‘an extension of Odd’s own self’ and ‘a perspective of Odd as his
enemies might see him’ (1970, xvii–xviii). Ñgmundr, following this line,
would be what Derek Brewer in other connections refers to as a symbolic‘split’ of the protagonist (Brewer, 1980). This psychoanalytical approachis rejected by Fulvio Ferrari on the grounds that it ‘assumes a point of viewwhich is a little bit too modern’ (2006, 246).22 Nevertheless, there can be no
doubt that a fifteenth-century saga audience was quite familiar with ideas
presenting human experience, both outer and inner, in terms of opposites,
not least from fundamental Christian dualisms. Similarly, the concept ofa troubled psychology had been projected as narrative characters in Old
Icelandic literature since the time of the Íslendingasögur; for example,
one only need think of the dream women that trouble the outlawed heroof Gísla saga Súrssonar. Reading Ñgmundr as Oddr’s ‘dark side’ entails
seeing a fracture in the hero’s apprehension of his own reality, which isframed in the saga as a sub-mythic realisation of the conflict between
chaos and order or past and present. In ideological terms, this conflictmay suggest that between progressive Christian modernity and regressive
heathen tradition, but as both of these forces are aspects of the same cultural
equation they are, in effect, conditions of each other. Accordingly, Oddr
and Ñgmundr are mutually indispensable as they are the self-same thing.
22 Ferrari argues that Ñgmundr’s role ‘contributes to taking from Oddr partof his greatness’ and that the author’s purpose was ‘to compose an interestingand exciting story’ which would be ‘more adequate to the taste of a refined andlearned audience’ (2006, 246).

96

Making History

Torfi Tulinius takes a more historicist approach, by which he identifies Ñgmundr as a figure of death (2002, 163–64). This is intriguing on two counts.
First, as Torfi observes, a preoccupation with death was intensified acrossEurope during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries as a result of the Black
Death. The plague caused the loss of between one and two thirds of the
population of Iceland in 1402–04, and had had drastic effects on the Icelandic economy since the mid-fourteenth century, owing to its impact on
Norway (Vahtola 2003, 567). Second, such an interpretation of Ñgmundr’s
symbolic significance is consistent with Oddr’s inevitable mortal obsessions. Ñgmundr-as-death explains why Oddr cannot kill him, and may evensuggest a ‘death wish that Oddr exhibits by his zealous pursuit’ (Tulinius
2002, 163). Further support for this theory has been suggested by Ármann
Jakobsson, who notes in the description of Ñgmundr’s ‘manufacture’ by
the Permians, as recounted by Rauðgrani (see Örvar-Odds saga 1954,
279–83), and in assessments of his creature category given elsewhere in
the saga, that there is the possibility that he is already dead, an aptrganga.23
This would also explain why Oddr finally recognises that Ñgmundr isósigranligr ‘one who cannot be overcome’ (Örvar-Odds saga 1954, 337).
Yet a precise identification of Ñgmundr with death, as it is personified
in much other medieval art and literature, raises certain problems. Whilst
Oddr is consistently frustrated in his desire to wreak vengeance on Ñgmundr, the question remains why Ñgmundr cannot kill Oddr, a limitation
which Ñgmundr acknowledges on more than one occasion. One would
have to accept the proposition that death is constrained by the greater
power of the v†lva’s curse. Moreover, Ñgmundr twice implies that Oddr
could indeed bring about his death: ‘En ef vit berjumsk til þrautar, þá
mun ek falla fyrir þér’ “But if we fight to the end, then I will fall beforeyou” (Örvar-Odds saga 1954, 249); and ‘En engan mann hræðumsk ek íver†ldinni nema þik, ok af þér mun ek n†kkut illt hljóta, hvárt þat verðr fyrreða síðar’ “But no man in the world do I fear other than you, and throughyou I shall suffer ill fortune, whether that be sooner or later” (Örvar-Odds
saga 1954, 292). Even though there are, then, certain contradictions in thesaga regarding Ñgmundr’s nature and capacities, the fact remains that in theend neither Ñgmundr nor Oddr succeeds in killing the other. Rather thanattempting to equate Ñgmundr with death, it might therefore be better tosee Ñgmundr as a constant reminder of Oddr’s fate, a disquieting memento
mori which will not in itself be Oddr’s nemesis but against which struggle
23 I am grateful to Ármann for this suggestion, which was made in personal cor-

respondence.

Ñrvar-Odds saga and the Meanings of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani 97
is equally futile and which is, in this sense, a personification of the v†lva’s
curse. Thus, when Oddr says to Ñgmundr in their final encounter, ‘við þiksættumsk ek aldri’ “I shall never come to terms with you” (Örvar-Odds
saga 1954, 335), he is speaking of an age-old resentment. Notably, it isshortly after Oddr’s eventual reconciliation with Ñgmundr, which by thisreading would signify an acceptance of his fate, that he disregards his own
vow never to return to Berurjóðr and heads north, there to meet his end.
The vastly increased prominence of Ñgmundr in the younger redactions
has the effect of further diminishing the significance of Oddr’s conversion
beyond the light treatment that is given to it in the M redaction, a treatment which the younger redactions all follow. This is not to say that theseyounger redactions are in some way more secularised; rather, as Oskar
Bandle suggests, one might conclude that the additional Ñgmundr material
has the effect of throwing Oddr’s noble character into even sharper relief,
thus emphasising a Christian and chivalric perspective on the old heroic life
(Bandle 1990, 62).24 Oddr’s conversion is simply a given in respect of one
who stands on the front line against the demonic and the irrational. Muchthe same can be said about the implicit message in the older redactions
concerning the societal value of monarchical authority, something whichby the fifteenth century would, in any case, have been a far less controversial issue; indeed, also a given. Here, Oddr’s rise to kingship has more thelook of a will to power, the remarkable accomplishment of a talented yet
troubled individual. It is this troubled element that is central to the accountof Oddr’s life in the A redaction. Although Ñgmundr may be interpreted
as an aspect of Oddr’s psychology, his inner landscape, or as a personification of Oddr’s curse in his outer landscape, the issue that is raised is
one that concerns identity. This matter of identity, whether considered
in terms of Oddr’s character or in terms of a fifteenth-century Icelandic
cultural formulation, has significant bearing on our understanding of theyounger redactions, particularly as regards the saga’s literary relations.
The fifteenth-century A and B texts are preceded in their manuscripts
by the short sagas of Oddr’s ancestors; respectively, Ketils saga hængs,the tale of Oddr’s grandfather, and Gríms saga loðinkinna, that of his
father.25 R. C. Boer identified a number of motifs common to these sagas
24 One may, however, wonder how Oddr’s copulation with a giantess shortly

after his conversion might have been regarded by a Christian audience, especiallyas this union is described without censure.
25 A third saga concerning the Hrafnistumenn preserved in the same
­fifteenth-century manuscript group as A is Áns saga bogsveigis. The hero, Án, isthe great-grandson of Ketill Hæng and Sigríðr.

98

Making Historyand Ñrvar-Odds saga (Boer 1892, 97–100), and there have been several
studies analysing elements of the ‘Bear’s Son’ folktale-type apparent inthem (for example, Jorgensen 1975, 91–95, and Pizarro 1976–77, 263–81).
The author of the S redaction certainly knew the traditions associatedwith these heroes of Hrafnista, as is clear from the reference he makes to
Oddr’s lineage at the outset of the saga, including Oddr’s great-grandfather
Hallbj†rn Hálftroll.26 Given that the likely provenance of Ketils saga hængs
is thirteenth-century (Ciklamini 1993, 353; Tulinius 2007, 452), perhaps
somewhat older than Gríms saga loðinkinna, it is quite feasible that he wasfamiliar with it, but the extent to which he was influenced by the saga isquestionable; for example, when Grímr gives Oddr the magic arrows, hesays, ‘þær vann ek af Gusi Finnakonungi’ “I won these from Gusir, kingof the Finns” (S: Ñrvar-Odds saga 1888, 25). This is not consistent witheither of the two ancestor sagas, where it is Ketill who wins the arrows,
Grímr only inheriting them. The origin of the magic arrows is brought
into line with the ancestor sagas in the slightly younger M redaction andin all subsequent redactions.
Perhaps, then, the authors of S and M knew the sagas of Ketill andGrímr, and perhaps also the author of M sought to correlate his redaction
with them, but there is little sign of either redactors exploring the themesof these sagas, except in so far as Oddr, like his Hrafnistumenn forebears,
has encounters with non-human otherness. Unlike both Ketill and Grímr,
however, Oddr’s dealing with otherworldly beings in the early redactions
is fairly straightforward: he simply kills them, or tries to. This, as we know,
is not quite the case in the A redaction, where it is reasonable to assume
that the author was perfectly familiar with the Ñrvar-Odds saga prequels.
Much of the drama of Ketils saga hængs arises from the conflict between
Ketill and his father Hallbj†rn. While Ketill has an adventurous spirit, hisfather is determined to keep him on a short leash, primarily in an attempt toshield him from the mysterious and dangerous world of non-humans thatexists beyond the safe confines of the farm. Hallbj†rn’s anxieties would
seem to stem from his own deep familiarity with this world, for he is a
half-troll. But Ketill will not be restrained, and persists in venturing further
and further north where he has a series of encounters with alien and savage creatures, leading eventually to his winning Gusir’s Gifts. Yet not all
those he meets threaten him; he befriends the Lapp Brúni and, at Brúni’s
invitation, he couples with his unprepossessing daughter, Hrafnhildr, theresult of which is the birth of Grímr. As Hallbj†rn considers Hrafnhildr to
26 Hallbj†rn is not mentioned in the genealogy given in M.

Ñrvar-Odds saga and the Meanings of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani 99
be a troll, she is banned from the farm, and he subsequently forces Ketill
to marry Sigríðr, a local girl by whom Ketill has a daughter. Ketill raises
Grímr in the full knowledge of trolldom and takes the enlightened viewthat his daughter should not be married against her will, a view that forces
him to fight a number of duels until a satisfactory match can be made.
The much shorter Gríms saga loðinkinna is a variant of the frog-princetale, wherein the gender roles are reversed. Grímr’s fiancée, Lofthæna, has
the misfortune to have a trollish stepmother, who has her abducted andtransmogrified. In his search for her, Grímr has numerous fights against
trolls and berserks, until he shares a bed with a helpful but hideous trollwoman who, when he wakes, turns out to be Lofthæna, now restored tohuman form. They marry and Lofthæna bears Grímr a daughter, whom,just as was the case with Ketill and his daughter, he has to protect fromaggressive suitors, in this case a roughneck in the company of twelve
berserks. Grímr’s second in the ensuing duel is Ingjaldr of Berurjóðr, whoin Ñrvar-Odds saga is foster-father to Grímr’s son, Oddr.
The world of the Hrafnistumenn in the ancestor sagas is almost ­entirely
fantastical. There is no safe harbour with kings, no sanctuary among
Christian communities, no companionship of Viking comrades, no career
ladder of human strife to climb. While the farmstead appears to function as a metonym for human society, it is troubled from within, for the
heroes are drawn beyond its limits toward a place of magically endowed
chaos. But this is a place where they somehow belong. One problem for
Ketill and Grímr is that they have troll blood running through them, making their relations with non-humans, most frequently denoted as trolls,
somewhat equivocal (Arnold 2005, 134–38). The signification of thecreature-category ‘troll’ in these sagas is quite elastic and can include
genuine monsters as well as Lapps and Finns, and it is therefore best tounderstand the meaning of troll as ‘something that is strange and peculiar, exceeding normality in some way’ (Ármann Jakobsson 2008, 46).
Abnormality, however, defines the heroes almost as much as it does theirotherworldly adversaries and associates. Hallbj†rn tries to breed out thisabnormality but fails when the errant Ketill succeeds in exaggerating it inHallbj†rn’s grandson, Grímr. This commingling of normal and abnormal
blood is what Oddr inherits, in almost exactly the same measure as his
grandfather Ketill.
In Ketils saga hængs the ‘normality versus abnormality’ theme is firstarticulated as a conflict between Hallbj†rn’s social ideals and a past, in part
designated as Hallbj†rn’s past, that exercises a peculiar hold over Ketill.
Whereas in the older redactions of Ñrvar-Odds saga the hero strives to

100

Making History

repudiate all that represents the past, in the younger redactions, as in theancestor sagas, past and present are intertwined. So it is that Oddr, like hisancestors, has ambivalent relations with the denizens of the otherworld.
He is fully prepared to fight and kill those that threaten or offend him,
but is equally prepared to accept help and comfort from those that do not,as is apparent when he takes guidance from Rauðgrani and when he siresa giant son. If the fantastical world of Ñrvar-Odds saga is understood torepresent the pre-Christian world of the Eddas, and Oddr as representing
a relationship with this ancient legacy, then the mutual enmity and final
reconciliation between him and Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani suggests a cultural
ambivalence rooted in a contemporary apprehension of a historical identity.
As Mitchell has noted in respect of Ketils saga hængs particularly andthe fornaldarsögur generally, ‘writers, consumers, and so on were also
participating in the “salvage ethnography” of a “memory culture” [which]
was likely to have been of a recalled, idealized, and generally bygone
world’ (2009, 292–93; see also Mitchell 1991, 134–36). Inevitably, thisis a contradictory condition in Ñrvar-Odds saga, for while Oddr’s efforts
are often targeted against this past, it is a past that ultimately defines him.
Like the psychoanalytical or historicist reading of the problematic connection between Oddr and Ñgmundr in the A redaction, this reading of it,
one signifying a complex interconnectedness between past and present at
a subtextual level, will also not allow them to be understood outside theirmutual animosity. Oddr and Ñgmundr are two sides of the same coin,whose opposition is, paradoxically, an expression of their unity. Although
it may be to assume too much intention on the part of the fifteenth-century
redactors, it is not unlikely that their knowledge of the sagas of Oddr’sancestors led them to amplify the fantastical elements, most specificallythrough the role of Ñgmundr, thus producing a satisfactory explanationfor Ñgmundr’s antipathies, which in the early redactions are ­inexplicable.
Through this amplification the newly formed saga complicates the morestraightforward diametric oppositions between a heathen past and Christian
Europe, as set out in the early redactions. An obvious cultural analogy
to this lies in the question what it might mean to have inherited an extra­
ordinary mythological and legendary store which in many ways gave
unique definition to medieval Icelandic identity, but which ill befitted
the ideological values of the present. In these later accounts of the hero,
however, there is some sense of an accommodation having been reached:
Oddr and Ñgmundr will co-exist. Perhaps, then, the claims of the past are
somehow being validated, for if Oddr not only signifies a relationship withthis past but also signifies the brilliance of it, then its claims on him, asÑrvar-Odds saga and the Meanings of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani 101
symbolised in the v†lva’s curse, could also be interpreted as those of theold heroic world on the medieval present.
In conclusion, the meaning of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani in the S and M
redactions can only be discerned in his apparent lack of meaning as acharacter that is singularly badly integrated into an otherwise conservative
narrative which primarily functions to advertise the benefits of monarchy.
Despite this, as Ñgmundr is the only one of Oddr’s enemies that escapes
his vengeance; he has a unique association with the v†lva’s curse, that
other offence that Oddr cannot cancel out. In the A redaction, whereÑgmundr is given a starring role as the protagonist’s chief adversary,
this association is emphatic. While the revised saga could well be seen as
broken-backed as a result of the interpolations—an awkward merging ofa tale conveying a particular thirteenth- and fourteenth-century political
ideal with a fifteenth-century taste for romance fantasy—so powerful isthe effect of expanding Ñgmundr’s role that the impact of his presence issecond only to that of Oddr. Unlike the caricature of ancient wisdom givenby the Rauðgrani/Óðinn figure or the burlesque adventures that Oddr isgiven among the giants, an episode which appears to parody Ketill hængr’s
dalliance with Brúni and Hrafnhildr the Lapp, Ñgmundr is a serious
problem for the hero. Whether one views him as a product of fifteenthcentury morbid anxieties or as indicative of an unconscious formulation
concerning cultural values or, indeed, both, Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani inthe younger redactions is Oddr’s curse reified. Thus, in their reformulation of Ñrvar-Odds saga along the same thematic lines as the ancestor
sagas, the younger redactors delivered a tale in which the v†lva’s curse issignified throughout. As a result, the saga’s latent meaning or ‘politicalunconscious’ suggests a ­conceptualisation of cultural dynamics that ismore sophisticated and perhaps more assured, more ‘to terms’, than thatof the strictly dichotomised world of the older redactions.

Making History

102

APPENDIX
13th-c. original			

x

			

y

Earliest 14th-c. redactions

S

Later 14th-c. redactions

z
M

a
b

15th-c. redactions
17th-c. redaction

C (fragment)

A

c
B
E

Manuscript stemma after R. C. Boer (Ñrvar-Odds saga 1888, xxxiv). Mss deduced
are assigned in lower case. Mss considered in this study are marked in bold.
BibliographyÁns saga bogsveigis. In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda 1954 I–IV. Ed. Guðni
Jónsson, II 365–403.
Ármann Jakobsson 2008. ‘The Trollish Acts of Þorgrímr the Witch: The Meaningsof troll and ergi in Medieval Iceland’. Saga-Book XXXII, 39–68.
Ármann Jakobsson 2009. ‘Identifying the Ogre: The Legendary Sagas’. In Forn­aldarsagaerne, myter og virkelighed. Ed. Agneta Ney et al., 181–200.
Arnold, Martin 2005. ‘Hvat er tröll nema þat?: The Cultural History of the Troll’.
In The Shadow-Walkers. Jacob Grimm’s Mythology of the Monstrous. Ed. Tom
Shippey, 111–55.
Bandle, Oskar 1990. ‘Um Þróun Örvar-Odds sögu’. Gripla 7, 51–71.
Boberg, Inger M. 1966. Motif-Index of Early Icelandic Literature.
Boer, R. C. 1892. ‘Über die Ñrvar-Odds saga’. Arkiv för nordisk filologi 8, 97–139.
Brewer, Derek 1980. Symbolic Stories: Traditional Narratives of the Family
Drama in English Literature.
Chadwick, N. K. 1946. The Beginnings of Russian History: An Enquiry into Sources.
Ciklamini, Marlene 1993. ‘Ketils saga hængs’. In Medieval Scandinavia. An
Encyclopedia. Ed. Phillip Pulsiano, 352–53.
Dasent, Sir George Webbe, trans., 1888. Popular Tales from the Norse.

Ñrvar-Odds saga and the Meanings of Ñgmundr Eyþjófsbani 103
Edwards, Paul and Hermann Pálsson, trans., 1970. Arrow-Odd: A Medieval Novel.
Ellis Davidson, Hilda, ed., and Peter Fisher, trans., 1979–80. Saxo Grammaticus.
The History of the Danes, Books I–IX.
Eremenko, Alexey 2006. ‘The Dual World of the Fornaldarsögur’. In The Fantastic in Old Norse/Icelandic Literature: Sagas and the British Isles. Preprint
Papers of the Thirteenth International Saga Conference, Durham and York
6th–12th August 2006, vol. 1. Ed. John McKinnell et al., 217–22.
Faulkes, Anthony, ed., 1982. Snorri Sturluson, Edda: Prologue and Gylfaginning.
Faulkes, Anthony, trans., 1987. Snorri Sturluson, Edda.
Faulkes, Anthony, ed., 1998. Snorri Sturluson, Edda: Skáldskaparmál.
Ferrari, Fulvio 2006. ‘Gods, Warlocks and Monsters in the Örvar-Odds saga’.
In The Fantastic in Old Norse/Icelandic Literature: Sagas and the British
Isles. Preprint Papers of the Thirteenth International Saga Conference,
Durham and York 6th–12th August 2006, vol. 1. Ed. John McKinnell et al.,
241–47.
Gísla saga Súrssonar. In Vestfirðinga s†gur 1943. Ed. Björn K. Þórólfsson andGuðni Jónsson. Íslenzk fornrit VI.
Gríms saga loðinkinna 1954. In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda 1954 I–IV. Ed.
Guðni Jónsson, II 183–98.
Heimskringla 1941–51. Ed. Bjarni Aðalbjarnarson. Íslenzk fornrit XXVI–XXVIII.
Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards, trans., 1985. Seven Viking Romances.
Jameson, Fredric 1981. The Political Unconscious: Narrative as a Socially
Symbolic Act.
Jónas Kristjánssson 1997. Eddas and Sagas. Iceland’s Medieval Literature.
Trans. Peter Foote.
Jorgensen, Peter A. 2000. ‘The Two-Troll Variant of the Bear’s Son Folktale
in Hálfdanar saga Brönufóstra and Gríms saga loðinkinna’. Arv 31, 35–43.
Ketils saga hængs 1954. In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda 1954 I–IV. Ed. Guðni
Jónsson, II 149–81.
Kroesen, Riti 1993. ‘Ñrvar-Odds saga’. In Medieval Scandinavia. An Encyclopedia. Ed. Phillip Pulsiano et al., 744.
Lassen, Annette 2003. ‘Den prosaiske Odin. Fortidssagaerne som mytografi’.
In Fornaldarsagornas struktur och ideologi. Handlingar från ett symposium i
Uppsala 31.8–2.9 2001. Ed. Ármann Jakobsson et al., 205–19.
Lassen, Annette 2009. ‘Skurðgoð, trégoð, hofgyðjur og heiðinglig hof: En gruppe
hedenske elementer og deres kontekst i Ñrvar-Odds saga, Sturlaugs saga starf­
sama og Bósa saga’. In Fornaldarsagaerne, myter og virkelighed. Ed. Agneta
Ney et al., 255–79.
Lönnroth, Lars 1969. ‘The Noble Heathen: A Theme in the Sagas’. Scandinavian
Studies 41, 1–29.
Lönnroth, Lars 1979. ‘The double scene of Arrow-Odd’s drinking contest’. In
Medieval Narrative: A Symposium. Ed. Hans Bekker-Nielsen et al., 94–119.
McKinnell, John 2005. Meeting the Other in Norse Myth and Legend.
Mitchell, Stephen A. 1991. Heroic Sagas and Ballads.
Mitchell, Stephen 2003. ‘The fornaldarsögur and Nordic Balladry: The Sámsey Episode across Genres’. In Fornaldarsagornas struktur och ideologi.

104

Making History­ andlingar från ett symposium i Uppsala 31.8–2.9 2001. Ed. Ármann JakobsH
son et al., 245–56.
Mitchell, Stephen A. 2009. ‘The Supernatural and the fornaldarsögur. The Caseof Ketils saga hængs’. In Fornaldarsagaerne, myter og virkelighed. Ed. Agneta
Ney et al., 281–91.
Norna-Gests þáttr. In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda 1954 I–IV. Ed. Guðni Jónsson, I 305–35.
Pizarro, Joaquín Martínez 1976–77. ‘Transformations of the Bear’s Son Tale in
the Sagas of the Hrafnistumenn’. Arv 32–33, 263–81.
Ross, Alan S. C. 1981. The Terfinnas and Beormas of Ohthere.
Swenson, Karen 1991. Performing Definitions: Two Genres of Insult in Old
Norse Literature.
Tolkien, Christopher, ed. and trans., 1960. The Saga of King Heidrek the Wise.
Torfi H. Tulinius 2002. The Matter of the North: The Rise of Literary Fiction in
Thirteenth-Century Iceland. Trans. Randi C. Eldevik.
Torfi H. Tulinius, 2005. ‘Sagas of Icelandic Prehistory (fornaldarsögur)’. In A
Companion to Old Norse-Icelandic Literature and Culture. Ed. Rory McTurk,
447–61.
Vahtola, Jouko 2003. ‘Population and Settlement’. In The Cambridge History of
Scandinavia. Volume 1: Prehistory to 1520. Ed. Knut Helle, 559–80.
Vatnsdœla saga 1939. Ed. Einar Ól. Sveinsson. Íslenzk fornrit VIII.
Yngvars saga víðförla. In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda 1954 I–IV. Ed. Guðni
Jónsson, II 423–59.
Ñrvar-Odds saga 1888. Ed. R. C. Boer.
Örvar-Odds saga 1954. In Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda 1954 I–IV. Ed. Guðni
Jónsson, II 199–363.

The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn

105

THE TALE OF HOGNI AND HEDINN
TRANSLATED BY WILLIAM MORRIS AND EIRÍKR MAGNÚSSON

Introduction
By CARL PHELPSTEAD
The first Icelandic saga to be translated into English in its entirety wasa fornaldarsaga. George Stephens’s 1839 translation of Friðþiófs sagahins frækna was the first of three versions of that saga published in thenineteenth century. Though rarely read in the twentieth century or today,
the saga was popular with, and highly praised by, Victorian readers (if not
as popular as the 1824 poetic reworking of the saga by a Swedish bishop,
Esias Tegnér, which was translated into English at least fifteen times before
1914; see Wawn 1994; 2000a, ch. 5). The second English translation ofFriðþjófs saga was published by William Morris and Eiríkr Magnússon in1871 (and republished in their Three Northern Love Stories in 1875). The
many saga translations by Morris and his Icelandic collaborator exerted
a seminal influence on Victorian and later enthusiasm for the Vikings:
one recent commentator claims that ‘probably no serious saga translator
since 1869 has been totally uninfluenced’ by their work (Kennedy 2007,54), though one must acknowledge that such influence has often taken
the form of a reaction against their stylistic preferences.
William Morris (1834–96) is now better known for his design and craft workthan for his writings, but he was a prolific and popular poet, translator, prose romance-writer and political commentator. His earliest published writings evinceknowledge of, and enthusiastic interest in, Norse and Scandinavian material,
and this became a dominant interest when he began to learn to read Icelandic,
and to translate from the language into English, in collaboration with the Icelandic scholar Eiríkr Magnússon (1833–1913), resident in England, whomMorris met in 1868.1 In just a few years the two men made a remarkable numberof translations of Icelandic sagas: most were produced between 1868 and theearly 1870s, though some were not published until twenty years later as partof what became a six-volume collection, The Saga Library (1891–1905).
1 Eiríkr describes their meeting and collaboration in Morris 1910–15, VIII xv–

xix and in Morris and Eiríkr Magnússon 1891–1905, VI vii–xvi. There is a brief
account of Eiríkr’s scholarly career in Aho 1996, x–xii; see also Wawn 2000b.

106

Making History

Besides translating many Íslendingasögur, the whole of Heims­kringla
and Friðþjófs saga, Morris and Eiríkr Magnússon introduced two­fornaldarsögur to English readers for the first time. Their translation ofV†lsunga saga—described by Morris as ‘the best tale pity ever wrought’(1870, xx)—was published in 1870 together with English versions of thirteen related Eddic poems.2 A short fornaldarsaga now usually known asS†rla þáttr, but called The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn by Morris and Eiríkr(translating its alternative title, Héðins saga ok H†gna), was publishedin Three Northern Love Stories and Other Tales in 1875; the volume
also included reprints of their earlier translations of Gunnlaugs saga andFriðþjófs saga, a translation of Víglundar saga and a selection of shorter
narratives. The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn is reprinted below in recognitionof the importance of the work of Morris and Eiríkr Magnússon in making
fornaldarsögur accessible to the English-speaking world.
As the reader quickly realises, Morris and Eiríkr Magnússon adopt a
distinctive style for their translations from Old Icelandic, one that has
evoked strongly critical reactions from many readers, and admiringly
positive responses from a rather smaller number. Their approach hasoften been misleadingly described simply as archaism, but although theycertainly use archaic vocabulary and morphological forms, this is an inadequate description. In a chapter discussing the policy decisions facing atranslator from Old Icelandic, John Kennedy draws an apposite distinction
between archaism and ‘Icelandicised’ translation, offering the translationsof Morris and Eiríkr Magnússon as the best known examples of the latterapproach and rightly noting that their strategy has frequently been misunderstood (Kennedy 2007, 29–36). Archaic language, both vocabulary
and notably also the second person pronoun thou and its associated verb
forms, was used by several Victorian saga translators in order to distancereaders from the present and heighten their awareness of the medieval
origin of the translated text. ‘Icelandicising’ translation, on the other
hand, uses archaic words, forms and structures specifically to highlighthistorical connections between the English and Icelandic languages. In
the present text, for ­example, the translators use the archaic English noun‘carl’ (meaning ‘man’) not simply because it is archaic, but also because
it recalls the Icelandic term karl. Their use of ‘dragon’ to refer to a Viking
ship translates literally the Old Norse term dreki, whereas ‘dragon-headed
ship’ or even ‘dragon-ship’ might have been more transparent to the uninitiated reader. As J. N. Swannell (1961, 377) suggests, the result of their
2 The legend of the Volsungs also inspired one of Morris’s major reworkingsof Norse material, his long narrative poem Sigurd the Volsung: see Ashurst 2007.

The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn

107

approach is, ironically, that the saga translations of William Morris andEiríkr Magnússon can best be appreciated by those readers whose own
knowledge of Old Icelandic (and, one might add, of the history of English)
enables them to appreciate the linguistic connections to which the translators draw attention by their stylistic choices: a class of reader with little
need for a translation in the first place. Readers lacking such knowledge
who are not disconcerted by the unfamiliar diction and sentence structure
may, however, find that they too are able to appreciate the peculiar vigour
achieved by Morris and his collaborator. They are particularly successful
in the near-impossible task of translating skaldic verse (of which just one
example occurs in The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn): their idiosyncratic
diction seems peculiarly suited to rendering skaldic artifice.
The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn (S†rla þáttr) is a short text preserved inonly one medieval manuscript: the late fourteenth-century Flateyjarbók.
The tale is one of many þættir incorporated into the manuscript’s accountof the life of King Óláfr Tryggvason of Norway. It was included in C. C.
Rafn’s genre-defining edition of the fornaldarsögur (1829–30, I 389–407)
and in Guðni Jónsson’s popular edition of the corpus (1954, I 365–82).
Besides Rafn’s edition, Morris and Eiríkr Magnússon would have beenable to use the edition of Flateyjarbók by Guðbrandur Vigfússon and C.
R. Unger (1860–68, I 275–83). The tale begins with a mythological intro­
duction in which Freyja obtains and then loses a necklace (perhaps thefamous Brísingamen, though it is not so named in the tale); she is told thatto recover it she must provoke a battle between kings which will continue
for ever unless interrupted by a powerful king’s Christian retainer. The
focus then shifts to the Baltic exploits of S†rli sterki Erlingsson (hero ofanother fornaldarsaga, S†rla saga sterka). S†rli kills the father of H†gni,
whom Freyja (assuming the name G†ndul) then sets at odds with anotherking, Héðinn. The resulting Hjaðningavíg ‘Battle of the followers ofHéðinn’ is magically prolonged for 143 years until finally brought to an
end by Ívarr ljómi, retainer of the Christian king Óláfr Tryggvason.
The mythological opening section unusually portrays Freyja and Lokias courtly retainers of Óðinn. Freyja’s sexual relationship with Óðinn
is unexpected, but compatible with allusions to her sexual appetite inother texts; Loki’s transformations in the tale are likewise not recorded
elsewhere but are comparable with those he undergoes in other sources.
The þáttr is of particular interest to Anglophone readers because of thereference to the Brosings’ necklace (Brosinga mene) in the Old English
Beowulf (l.1199; see Damico 1983) and the appearance of names associated with the Hjaðningavíg legend in the poems Widsith and Deor. The
story of the Hjaðningavíg is also recounted or alluded to in several other

108

Making History

medieval texts, including Bragi Boddason’s Ragnarsdrápa (sts 8–12),
Snorri Sturluson’s Skáldskaparmál (as noted by Morris and Eiríkr Magnússon (1875, 3; they translate the relevant passage: 159–60)) and Saxo
Grammaticus’s Gesta Danorum (see Rowe 2002 on the connections ofthe þáttr with other texts).
Bibliography and Suggested Further Reading
Aho, Gary 1996. ‘Introduction’. In William Morris. Three Northern Love Stories
and Other Tales, v–xxxvii.
Ashurst, David 2007. ‘William Morris and the Volsungs’. In Old Norse Made New:
Essays on the Post-Medieval Reception of Old Norse Literature and Culture.
Ed. David Clark and Carl Phelpstead, 43–61.
Damico, Helen 1983. ‘Sörlaþáttr and the Hama Episode in Beowulf’. Scandinavian
Studies 55/3, 222–35.
Driscoll, M. J., and Silvia Hufnagel. Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda: A bibliographyof manuscripts, editions, translations and secondary literature <http://www.
staff.hum.ku.dk/mjd/fornaldarsagas/> [consulted 18 January 2010]Guðbrandur Vigfússon and C. R. Unger, eds, 1860–68. Flateyjarbok: En Samling af
norske Konge-Sagaer med indskudte mindre Fortællinger om Begivenheder i og
undenfor Norge samt Annaler.
Guðni Jónsson, ed., 1954. Fornaldarsögur norðurlanda I–IV.
Kennedy, John 2007. Translating the Sagas: Two Hundred Years of Challenge
and Response.
MacCarthy, Fiona 1994. William Morris: A Life for our Time.
Morris, William 1910–15. The Collected Works of William Morris. Ed. May
Morris. 24 vols.
Morris, William, and Eiríkr Magnússon, trans, 1870. The Story of the Volsungs
and Niblungs, with Certain Songs from the Elder Edda.
Morris, William, and Eiríkr Magnússon, trans, 1875. Three Northern Love Stories.
Morris, William, and Eiríkr Magnússon, trans, 1891–1905. The Saga Library. 6 vols.
Rafn, C. C., ed., 1829–30. Fornaldar sögur nordrlanda.
Rowe, Elizabeth Ashman 2002. ‘S†rla þáttr: The Literary Adaptation of Mythand Legend’. Saga-Book XXVI, 38–66.
Stephens, George 1839. Frithiof’s Saga: A Legend of Norway.
Swannell, J. N. 1961. ‘William Morris as an Interpreter of Old Norse’. Saga-Book
XV, 365–82.
Wawn, Andrew 1994. ‘The Cult of “Stalwart Frith-thjof” in Victorian Britain’.
In Northern Antiquity: The Post-Medieval Reception of Edda and Saga. Ed.
Andrew Wawn, 211–54.
Wawn, Andrew 2000a. The Vikings and the Victorians: Inventing the Old Northin Nineteenth-century Britain.
Wawn, Andrew 2000b. ‘Fast er drukkið og fátt lært’: Eiríkur Magnússon, Old
Northern Philology, and Victorian Cambridge. H. M. Chadwick Memorial
Lectures 11.

The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn

109

The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn
Chapter I. Of Freyja and the Dwarfs
East of Vanaquisl in Asia was the land called Asialand or Asiahome, but thefolk that dwelt there was called Æsir, and their chief town was Asgard. Odin
was the name of the king thereof, and therein was a right holy place of sacrifice. Niord and Frey Odin made Temple-priests thereover; but the daughterof Niord was Freyia, and she was fellow to Odin and his concubine.
Now there were certain men in Asia, whereof one was called Alfrigg,
the second Dwalin, the third Berling, the fourth Grerr: these had theirabode but a little space from the King’s hall, and were men so wise incraftsmanship, that they laid skilful hand on all matters; and such-like men
as they were did men call dwarfs. In a rock was their dwelling, and in thatday they mingled more with menfolk than as now they do.
Odin loved Freyia full sore, and withal she was the fairest woman of thatday: she had a bower that was both fair and strong; insomuch, say men,that if the door were shut to, none might come into the bower aforesaid
without the will of Freyia.
Now on a day went Freyia afoot by that rock of the dwarfs, and it lay
open: therein were the dwarfs a-smithying a golden collar, and the work
was at point to be done: fair seemed that collar to Freyia, and fair seemed
Freyia to the dwarfs.
Now would Freyia buy the collar of them, and bade them in return for it
silver and gold, and other good things. They said they lacked not money,
yet that each of them would sell his share of the collar for this thing, andfor nought else—that she should lie a night by each of them: wherefore,
whether she liked it better or worse, on such wise did she strike the bargain with them; and so the four nights being outworn, and all conditions
fulfilled, they delivered the collar to Freyia; and she went home to herbower, and held her peace hereof, as if nought had befallen.
Chapter II. Of the Stealing of Freyia’s Collar, and How She May Have
It Again
There was a man called Farbauti, which carl had to wife a carline called
Laufey; she was both slim and slender, therefore was she called Needle.
One child had these, a son called Loki; nought great of growth was he, but
betimes shameless of tongue and nimble in gait; over all men had he thatcraft which is called cunning; guileful was he from his youth up, therefore
was he called Loki the Sly.

110

Making History

He betook himself to Odin at Asgard and became his man. Ever had
Odin a good word for him, whatsoever he turned to; yet withal he oft laid
heavy labours upon him, which forsooth he turned out of hand better than
any man looked for: moreover, he knew wellnigh all things that befell,
and told all he knew to Odin.
So tells the tale that Loki knew how that Freyia had gotten the collar,
yea and what she had given for it; so he told Odin thereof, and when Odin
heard of it he bade Loki get the collar and bring it to him. Loki said it was
not a likely business, because no man might come into Freyia’s bower
without the will of her; but Odin bade him go his ways and not come backbefore he had gotten the collar. Then Loki turned away howling, and mostof men were glad thereof whenas Loki throve nought.
But Loki went to Freyia’s bower, and it was locked; he strove to come in,and might not; and cold it was without, so that he fast began to grow a-cold.
So he turned himself into a fly, and fluttered about all the locks and thejoints, and found no hole therein whereby he might come in, till up by thegable-top he found a hole, yet no bigger than one might thrust a needle
through; none the less he wriggled in thereby. So when he was come inhe peered all about to see if any waked, but soon he got to see that all
were asleep in the bower. Then in he goeth unto Freyia’s bed, and seesthat she hath the collar on her with the clasp turned downward. Thereon
Loki changed himself into a flea, and sat on Freyia’s cheek, and stung her
so that she woke and turned about, and then fell asleep again. Then Lokidrew from off him his flea’s shape, and undid the collar, and opened thebower, and gat him gone to Odin therewith.
Next morn awoke Freyia and saw that the doors were open, yet ­unbroken,
and that the goodly collar was gone. She deemed she knew what guile
had wrought it, so she goeth into the hall when she is clad, and cometh
before Odin the king, and speaketh to him of the evil he has let be wrought
against her in the stealing of that dear thing, and biddeth him give herback her jewel.
Odin says that in such wise hath she gotten it, that never again shall she
have it. ‘Unless forsooth thou bring to pass, that two kings, each served oftwenty kings, fall to strife, and fight under such weird and spell, that theyno sooner fall adown than they stand up again and fight on: always unlesssome christened man be so bold of heart, and the fate and fortune of his lord
be so great, that he shall dare go into that battle, and smite with weapons
these men: and so first shall their toil come to an end, to whatsoever lordit shall befall to loose them from the pine and trouble of their fell deeds.’
Hereto said Freyia yea, and gat her collar again.

The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn

111

Chapter III. Of King Erling, & Sorli his Son
In those days, when four-and-twenty winters were worn away from thedeath of Peace-Frodi, a king ruled over the Uplands in Norway called­Erling. He had a queen and two sons; Sorli the Strong the elder, and Erlend
the younger: hopeful were they both, but Sorli was the stronger. They fell
to warfare so soon as they were of age thereto; they fought with the viking
Sindri, son of Sveigr, the son of Haki, the sea-king, at the Elfskerries; andthere fell the viking Sindri and all his folk; there also fell Erlend Erlingson.
Thereafter Sorli sailed into the East-salt-sea, and harried there, and did somany doughty deeds that late it were ere all were written down.
Chapter IV. Sorli Slayeth King Halfdan
There was a king hight Halfdan, who ruled over Denmark, and abode ina stead called Roi’s-well; he had to wife Hvedna the Old, and their sons
were Hogni and Hakon, men peerless of growth and might, and all prowess:they betook them to warfare so soon as they were come to man’s estate.
Now cometh the tale on Sorli again, for on an autumn-tide he sailed toDenmark. King Halfdan was minded as at this time to go to an assemblyof the kings; he was well stricken in years when these things betid. He
had a dragon so good that never was such another ship in all Norway forstrength’s sake, and all craftsmanship. Now was this ship lying mooredin the haven, but King Halfdan was a-land and had let brew his farewelldrink. But when Sorli saw the dragon, so great covetise ran into his heartthat he must needs have her: and forsooth, as most men say, no ship so
goodly hath ever been in the Northlands, but it were the dragon Ellida, orGnod, or the Long Worm.
So Sorli spake to his men, bidding them array them for battle; ‘for wewill slay King Halfdan and have away his dragon.’
Then answered his word a man called Sævar, his Forecastle-man andMarshal: ‘Ill rede, lord,’ saith he; ‘for King Halfdan is a mighty lord ofgreat renown, and hath two sons to avenge him, who are either of themfull famous men.’‘Let them be mightier than the very Gods,’ said Sorli, ‘yet shall I none
the less join battle.’
So they arrayed them for the fight.
Now came tidings hereof to King Halfdan, and he started up and fared
down to the ships with all his men, and they got them ready for battle.
Some men set before King Halfdan that it was ill rede to fight, and it
were best to flee away because of the odds; but the king said that they

112

Making History

should fall everyone across the other’s feet or ever he should flee. So eitherside arrayed them, and joined battle of the fiercest; the end whereof wassuch that King Halfdan fell and all his folk, and Sorli took his dragon andall that was of worth.
Thereafter heard Sorli, that Hogni was come from warfare, and lay
by Odins-isle; so thitherward straight stood Sorli, and when they met hetold him of the fall of Halfdan his father, and offered him atonement andself-doom, and they to become foster-brethren. But Hogni gainsayed him
utterly: so they fought as it sayeth in Sorli’s Song. Hakon went forth full
fairly, and slew Sævar, Sorli’s Banner-bearer and Forecastle-man, andtherewith Sorli slew Hakon, and Hogni slew Erling the king, Sorli’s father.
Then they fought together, Hogni and Sorli, and Sorli fell before Hogni
for wounds and weariness’ sake: but Hogni let heal him, and they swore
the oath of brotherhood thereafter, and held it well whiles they both lived.
Sorli was the shortest-lived of them; he fell in the East-sea before thevikings, as it saith in the Sorli-Song, and here saith:
Fell there the fight-greedy,
Foremost of war-host,Eager in East-seas,
All on Hells’ hall-floor;
Died there the doughty
In dale-fishes joy-tide,
With byrny-rod biting
The vikings in brand-thing.

But when Hogni heard of the fall of Sorli, he went a-warring in the Eastlands that same summer, and had the victory in every place, and became
king thereover; and so say men that twenty kings paid tribute to King
Hogni, and held their realms of him.
Hogni won so great fame from his doughty deeds and his warfare that
he was as well known by name north in the Finn-steads, as right away inParis-town; yea, and all betwixt and between.
Chapter V. Hedinn Heareth Tell of King Hogni, and Cometh to the NorthLands
Hiarandi was the name of a king who ruled over Serkland; a queen hehad, and one son named Hedinn, who from his youth up was peerless ofgrowth, and strength, and prowess: from his early days he betook him to
warfare, and became a Sea-king, and harried wide about Spain and theland of the Greeks, and all realms thereabout, till twenty kings paid tributeto him, and held of him land and fief.

The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn

113

On a winter abode Hedinn at home in Serkland, and it is said that on atime he went into the wood with his household; and so it befell him to bealone of his men in a certain wood-lawn, and there in the wood-lawn he
saw a woman sitting on a chair, great of growth and goodly of aspect: heasked her of her name, and she named herself Gondul.
Then fell they a-talking, and she asked him of his doughty deeds, andlightly he told her all, and asked her if she wotted of any king who was
his peer in daring and hardihood, in fame and furtherance; and she said
she wotted of one who fell nowise short of him, and who was served oftwenty kings no less than he, and that his name was Hogni, and his dwelling north in Denmark.
‘Then wot I,’ said Hedinn, ‘that we shall try it which of us twain is
foremost.’‘Now will it be time for thee to go to thy men,’ said Gondul; ‘they will
be seeking thee.’
So they departed and he fared to his men, but she was left sitting there.
But so soon as spring was come Hedinn arrayed his departure, andhad a dragon and three hundred men thereon: he made for the Northlands, and sailed all that summer and winter, and came to Denmark in
the Springtide.
Chapter VI. Hogni and Hedinn Meet, and Swear Brotherhood to Each
Other
King Hogni sat at home this while, and when he heard tell how a noble
king is come to his land he bade him home to a glorious feast, and that
Hedinn took. And as they sat at the drink, Hogni asked what errand Hedinn
had thither, that had driven him so far north in the world. Hedinn said
that this was his errand, that they twain should try their hardihood anddaring, their prowess and all their craftsmanship; and Hogni said he was
all ready thereto.
So betimes on the morrow fared they to swimming and shooting at
marks, and strove in tilting and fencing and all prowess; and in all skill
were they so alike that none thought he could see betwixt them which
was the foremost. Thereafter they swore themselves foster-brethren, andshould halve all things between them.
Hedinn was young and unwedded, but Hogni was somewhat older, andhe had to wife Hervor, daughter of Hiorvard, who was the son of Heidrek,
who was the son of Wolfskin.
Hogni had a daughter, Hild by name, the fairest and wisest of all women,
and he loved his daughter much. No other child had he.

114

Making History

Chapter VII. The Beguiling of Hedinn, and of his Evil Deed
The tale telleth that Hogni went a-warring a little hereafter, and left Hedinn
behind to ward the realm. So on a day went Hedinn into the wood for his
disport, and blithe was the weather. And yet again he turned away from his
men and came into a certain wood-lawn, and there in the lawn beheld thesame woman sitting in a chair, whom he had seen aforetime in Serkland,
and him seemed that she was now gotten fairer than aforetime.
Yet again she first cast a word at him, and became kind in speech tohim; she held a horn in her hand shut in with a lid, and the king’s heart
yearned toward her.
She bade the king drink, and he was thirsty, for he was gotten warm;
so he took the horn and drank, and when he had drunk, lo a marvellous
change came over him, for he re­membered nought of all that was betid
to him aforetime, and he sat him down and talked with her. She asked
whether he had tried, as she had bidden him, the prowess of Hogni andhis hardihood.
Hedinn said that sooth it was: ‘For he fell short of me in nought in any
mastery we tried: so now are we called equal.’‘Yet are ye nought equal,’ said she.
‘Whereby makest thou that?’ said he.
‘In this wise,’ said she; ‘that Hogni hath a queen of high kindred, butthou hast no wife.’
He answers: ‘Hogni will give me Hild, his daughter, so soon as I ask
her; and then am I no worse wedded than he.’‘Minished were thy glory then,’ she said, ‘wert thou to crave Hogni ofalliance. Better were it, if forsooth thou lack neither hardihood nor daring
according to thy boast, that thou have away Hild, and slay the queen inthis wise: to wit, to lay her down before the beak of that dragon-ship, andlet smite her asunder therewith in the launching of it.’Now so was Hedinn ensnared by evil heart and forget­fulness, becauseof the drink he had drunken, that nought seemed good to him save this;and he clean forgat that he and Hogni were foster-brethren.
So they departed, and Hedinn fared to his men; and this befell whensummer was far spent.
Now Hedinn ordained his men for the arraying of the dragon, sayingthat he would away for Serkland. Then went he to the bower, and took
Hild and the queen, one by either hand, and went forth with them; andhis men took Hild’s raiment and fair things. Those men only were in therealm, who durst do nought for Hedinn and his men; for full fearful ofcountenance was he.

The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn

115

But Hild asked Hedinn what he would, and he told her; and she badehim do it not: ‘For,’ quoth she, ‘my father will give me to thee if thou
woo me of him.’‘I will not do so much as to woo thee,’ said Hedinn.
‘And though,’ said she, ‘thou wilt do no otherwise than bear me away,
yet may my father be appeased thereof: but if thou do this evil deed
and unmanly, doing my mother to death, then never may my father be­appeased: and this wise have my dreams pointed, that ye shall fight andlay each other a-low; and then shall yet heavier things fall upon you: andgreat sorrow shall it be to me, if such a fate must fall upon my father that
he must bear a dreadful weird and heavy spells: nor have I any joy to seethee sorehearted under bitter toil.’
Hedinn said he heeded nought what should come after, and that he would
do his deed none the less.
‘Yea, thou mayest none other do,’ said Hild, ‘for not of thyself dost
thou it.’
Then went Hedinn down to the strand, and the dragon was thrust forth,and the queen laid down before the beak thereof; and there she lost her life.
So went Hedinn aboard the dragon: but when all was dight he would
fain go a-land alone of his men, and into the self-same wood wherein hehad gone aforetime: and so, when he was come into the wood-lawn, there
saw he Gondul sitting in a chair: they greeted each the other friendly, andthen Hedinn told her of his deeds, and thereof was she well content. She
had with her the horn whereof he had drunk afore, and again she badehim drink thereof; so he took it and drank, and when he had drunk sleep
came upon him, and he fell tottering into her lap: but when he slept she
drew away from his head and spake: ‘Now hallow I thee, and give theeto lie under all those spells and the weird that Odin commanded, thee and
Hogni, and all the hosts of you.’
Then awoke Hedinn, and saw the ghostly shadow of Gondul, and himseemed she was waxen black and over big; and all things came to his mind
again, and mighty woe he deemed it. And now was he minded to get him far
away some-whither, lest he hear daily the blame & shame of his evil deed.
So he went to the ship and they unmoored speedily: the wind blew off
shore, and so he sailed away with Hild.
Chapter VIII. The Weird Falleth on These Twain, Hogni and Hedinn
Now cometh Hogni home, and comes to wot the sooth, that Hedinn hathsailed away with Hild and the dragon Halfdans-loom, and his queen isleft dead there. Full wroth was Hogni thereat, and bade men turn about

116

Making History

straightway and sail after Hedinn. Even so did they speedily, and they had
a wind of the best, and ever came at eve to the haven whence Hedinn had
sailed the morning afore.
But on a day whenas Hogni made the haven, lo the sails of Hedinn insight on the main; so Hogni, he and his, stood after them; and most sooth
is it told that a head-wind fell on Hedinn, whiles the same fair wind went
with Hogni.
So Hedinn brought-to at an isle called Ha, and lay in the roadstead
there, and speedily came Hogni up with him; and when they met Hedinn
greeted him softly: ‘Needs must I say, foster-brother,’ saith he, ‘how evil
hath befallen me, that none may amend save thou: for I have taken fromthee thy daughter and thy dragon; and thy queen I have done to death.
And yet is this deed done not from my evil heart alone, but rather fromwicked witchcraft and evil spells; and now will I that thou alone shear andshape betwixt us. But I will offer thee to forego both Hild and the dragon,
my men and all my wealth, and to fare so far out in the world that I may
never come into the Northlands again, or thine eyesight, whiles I live.’
Hogni answered: ‘I would have given thee Hild, hadst thou wooed
her; yea, and though thou hadst borne away Hild from me, yet for allthat might we have had peace: but whereas thou hast now wrought adastard’s deed in the laying down of my queen and slaying of her, there
is no hope that I may ever take atonement from thee; but here, in thisplace, shall we try straightway which of us twain hath more skill in thesmiting of strokes.’
Hedinn answered: ‘Rede it were, since thou wilt nought else but battle,
that we twain try it alone, for no man here is guilty against thee saving
I alone: and nowise meet it is that guiltless men should pay for my folly
and ill-doing.’
But the followers of either of them answered as with one mouth, thatthey would all fall one upon the other rather than that they two shouldplay alone.
So when Hedinn saw that Hogni would nought else but battle, he badehis men go up a-land: ‘For I will fail Hogni no longer, nor beg off thebattle: so let each do according to his manhood.’
So they go up a-land now and fight: full fierce is Hogni, and Hedinn
apt at arms and mighty of stroke.
Soothly is it said that such mighty and evil spells went with the weirdof these, that though they clave each other down to the shoulders, yet still
they stood upon their feet and fought on: and ever sat Hild in a grove andlooked on the play.

The Tale of Hogni and Hedinn

117

So this travail and torment went on ever from the time they first fell afighting till the time that Olaf Tryggvison was king in Norway; and men
say that it was an hundred and forty and three years before the noble man,King Olaf, brought it so about that his courtman loosed them from this
woeful labour and miserable grief of heart.
Chapter IX. Hogni & Hedinn are Loosed from their Weird
So tells the tale, that in the first year of the reign of King Olaf he cameto the Isle of Ha, and lay in the haven there on an eve. Now such was theway of things in that isle, that every night whoso watched there vanishedaway, so that none knew what was become of them.
On this night had Ivar Gleam-bright to hold ward: so when all on shipboard were asleep Ivar took his sword, which Iron-shield of Heathwood
had owned erst, and Thorstein his son had given to Ivar, and all his wargear he took withal, and so went up on to the isle.
But when he was gotten up there, lo a man coming to meet him, greatof growth, and all bloody, and exceeding sorrowful of countenance. Ivar
asked that man of his name; and he said he was called Hedinn, the son of
Hiarandi, of the blood of Serkland.
‘Sooth have I to tell thee,’ said he, ‘that whereas the watchmen havevanished away, ye must lay it to me and to Hogni, the son of Halfdan; for
we and our men are fallen under such sore weird and labour, that we fighton both night and day; and so hath it been with us for many generations ofmen; and Hild, the daughter of Hogni, sitteth by and looketh on. Odin hathlaid this weird upon us, nor shall aught loose us therefrom till a christened
man fight with us; and then whoso he smiteth down shall rise up no more;
and in such wise shall each one of us be loosed from his labour. Now will
I crave of thee to go with me to the battle, for I wot that thou art well christened; and thy king also whom thou servest is of great goodhap, of whom
my heart telleth me, that of him and his men shall we have somewhat good.’
Ivar said yea to going with him; and glad was Hedinn thereat, and said:‘Be thou ware not to meet Hogni face to face, and again that thou slay
not me before him; for no mortal man may look Hogni in the face, or slay
him if I be dead first: for he hath the Ægis-helm in the eyes of him, nor
may any shield him thence. So there is but one thing for it, that I face him
and fight with him, whiles thou goest at his back and so givest him hisdeath-blow; for it will be but easy work for thee to slay me, though I beleft alive the longest of us all.’
Therewith went they to the battle, and Ivar seeth that all is sooth that
Hedinn hath told him: so he goeth to the back of Hogni, and smiteth him

118

Making History

into his head, and cleaveth him down to the shoulders: and Hogni felldead, and never rose up again.
Then slew Ivar all those men who were at the battle, and Hedinn lastof all, and that was no hard work for him. But when he came to the grove
wherein Hild was wont to sit, lo she was vanished away.
Then went Ivar to the ship, when it was now daybreak, and he came to
the king and told him hereof: and the king made much of his deed, andsaid that it had gone luckily with him.
But the next day they went a-land, and thither where the battle had been,and saw nowhere any signs of what had befallen there: but blood wasseen on Ivar’s sword as a token thereof; and never after did the watchman
vanish away.
So after these things the king went back to his realm.
The End of this Tale.

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

119

THE SAGA OF ÁSMUNDR, KILLER OF CHAMPIONSTRANSLATED BY ALISON FINLAY

IntroductionÁsmundar saga kappabana is a short fornaldarsaga that tells of a fight tothe death between two half-brothers. It is preserved in two manuscripts:
Cod. Holm. 7 4to of the early fourteenth century, and in part in thefifteenth-century AM 586 4to (a fragmentary version that, although more
expansive, covers only chapters 5–7 of the saga). It was probably written
in the late thirteenth century, but a large part of its interest lies in the two
concluding poems in fornyrðislag, spoken by the two protagonists, fromwhich the saga appears to derive most of its material.
The saga has attracted considerable attention, largely from German
scholars, because of its apparent relationship with the so-called Hildebrandlegend, the subject of the oldest Germanic lay—and indeed, the only one tosurvive in Old High German—the Hildebrandslied. This now fragmentary
poem, written probably c.800, consists of 68 lines of alliterative verse
identical in form to that of Old English poetry:Ik gihorta ðat seggen
ðat sih urhettunænon muotin
Hiltibrant enti Haðubrantuntar heriun tuem
sunufatarungo
iro saro rihtun
garutun se iro guðhamun
gurtun sih iro suert ana
helidos ubar hringa
do sie to dero hiltiu ritun.
I heard tellThat warriors met
in single combat
Hildebrand and Hadubrandbetween two armies
son and father
prepared their armour
made ready their battle garments
girded on their swords
the warriors, over their ring mailwhen they rode to battle.

The poem relates the meeting of two warriors, apparently acting as‘champions’ for two opposing armies. The elder, Hildebrand, asks about
the antecedents of his younger opponent, Hadubrand, who reveals himself
as Hildebrand’s own son, left behind as a child when Hildebrand fled thetyranny of Odoacer to take service with Theodoric. Hildebrand responds
enigmatically that the young man will never fight a closer kinsman (thus120

Making History

indirectly acknowledging his paternity), but the young man is belligerent,
refuses the offer of gifts and accuses his opponent of deception, since
he believes his father has died. The poem breaks off as the duel gets
under way, but Hildebrand’s own words suggest that one of the two must
kill the other. The nature of the ending is largely guesswork, such as thatoutlined by Gummere in the introduction to his translation (Gummere
1923, 173):
The original . . . must have had a tragic ending; the theme demands it, andnot only a scrap of this same tale in Old Norse, but analogy of other cases,sustains the demand. The father unwillingly kills his son. Such things musthave actually happened now and again in the days of the comitatus . . . but
the killing of near kin remained the capital crime for a German . . . Loyalty
to one’s lord was a Germanic virtue which grew stronger with the necessities
of constant warfare, until it came to be supreme, and thus overshadowed theobligations of actual kindred. Hildebrand is a victim of the clash of these twoduties,—and not for once only. Thirty years before this crowning tragedy, he
was forced to choose between his lord, a banished man, and his wife and child.
Now the child faces him in arms.

The ‘scrap of this same tale in Old Norse’ referred to by Gummere isin fact the reference, in the poem spoken by Hildibrandr at the end ofÁsmundar saga, to his unwilling slaying of his own son. This is replicatedin the saga prose by Hildibrandr’s arbitrary killing of his son (who is nototherwise mentioned in the saga prose), under the influence of berserk
rage, as he goes out to meet Ásmundr in battle. The saga author tried toincorporate in his text all the material provided by the verses, but clearly
had no more idea how this element related to the story alluded to by the
Norse verses—a battle between half-brothers—than does the modern
reader.
In his study of the sources of Ásmundar saga, E. F. Halvorsen argued
convincingly that the saga author, while probably borrowing motifs andstylistic features from other fornaldarsögur, derived all his knowledgeof the Hildebrand material from the verses cited in the saga. Halvorsen
was not able to ascribe an origin or a date of composition to the verses
themselves, but speculated that they might once have made part of acollection of poems such as those included in the extant manuscripts of
Eddic poems—perhaps accompanied by a short prose preamble such asthat found, for example, in V†lundarkviða (Halvorsen 1951, 52).
A version of these verses was also known to Saxo Grammaticus,
who included his own elaboration of the story in Book VII of his Gesta
Danorum. Like the author of Ásmundar saga, Saxo works backwards fromthe verses themselves to create his prose legend, citing his Latin adaptations

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

121of the verses to mark the end and climax. As with his adaptations of Norse
verse elsewhere, Saxo ‘does not only translate the old lays, he also desires
to give them a correct Latin form, therefore he had to elaborate the abrupt
Norse poems and give them a suitable beginning and end’ (Halvorsen 1951,
17). Thus his equivalent to what is often called ‘Hildibrandr’s Death Song’(pp. 137–38 below) begins, in Peter Fisher’s translation (Ellis Davidson
and Fisher, I 223):
I should like the hour to roll by in conversation;
stop the sword-play, rest on the ground a little,
vary the interval with talk and warm our hearts.
Time remains for our purpose. Different destinies
control our twin fates; death’s lottery brings
one to his appointed hour, while processions and glory
and a chance to live the days of better years
await the other. The omens distinguish us
in separate roles. Danish territory bore you,
Sweden me. Once Drot’s maternal breast
swelled for you; I too sucked milk from her teat.

While the generalising first eight lines do not correspond closely to the
Old Norse poem, the final three accurately represent the second half ofthe first stanza:
Drótt bore you
in Denmark,and myself
among the Swedes.

The form ‘Drot’ used by Saxo corresponds to the unusual name ‘Drótt’used in the Norse of the brothers’ mother. The author of Ásmundar saga
evidently took this for a poetic heiti for a woman rather than a name,and replaced it in his prose version with ‘Hildr’, conventional in thefornaldarsögur.
Saxo again relies closely on his poetic source in detailing the assaultsof Haldan (the figure corresponding to Ásmundr in his version) on thechampions (Ellis Davidson and Fisher, I 224):
I subdued in battle
one alone, then two,
three and four, and soon
five followed by six,seven, eight together,
then eleven single-handed.

This corresponds closely to the verse in the poem spoken by Ásmundr:

122

Making History
Alone I fought one,and indeed two,
five and four
friends of the hall,on the field six and sevenat the same time,
I alone against eight,
yet still I live.

Clearly the poems known to Saxo, writing late in the twelfth century, werevery close to those quoted in Ásmundar saga, and probably derived froma common source. The points in common between Saxo’s prose version
and the saga can be listed in Halvorsen’s summary (9–10):
1. The two swords; Saxo mentions them, and even gives them names,
but he does not know that they were made by dwarfs.
2. Hildr-Drota is married twice.
3. Haldanus-Ásmundr fights with his half-brother to win a princess; thecircumstances are different in the two sources.
4. Only Hildigerus-Hildibrandr knows that they are brothers.
5. The fight with the berserks.
6. The Death Song, and the death of Hildigerus-Hildibrandr.
7. The return of Haldanus-Ásmundr, and the second song.
Saxo’s knowledge of essentially the same story as is recorded in theverses on which Ásmundar saga is based makes it certain that someversion of the Hildibrandr story was circulating in Scandinavia in thetwelfth century; in Halvorsen’s view, this took the form of an oral saga,
since the more extended poems postulated by other critics ‘have dis­appeared completely’ (1951, 10). He suggests that the oral story was
known to the scribe who first recorded the verses, but lost by the timethese were used by the saga author, who had no other direct source forhis version of the tale. In truth, however, we have no indication otherthan the saga’s verses for the form in which this material was transmitted
to the north. Versions of the Hildebrand legend are also found in thethirteenth-century Þiðreks saga and in a Faroese ballad, Snjólvskvæði,‘possibly derived from a much changed version of the Ásmundar saga’(Halvorsen 1951, 50).
The little literary analysis that the saga has attracted has not yieldedcomplimentary results. According to Halvorsen it is ‘rather complicatedand confused’, the work of a ‘mediocre’ author (7; 27); he points toThe Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

123

i­nconsistencies such as the curse placed by its maker on the fatal sword,that ‘it will cause the death of the most noble brothers, [King Buðli’s]
daughter’s sons’, when in fact the sword only accounts for the deathof one of the two, Hildibrandr; and to characters arbitrarily introduced
and then summarily dismissed from the narrative when they have served
their limited purpose. Ciklamini gives a more positive account of thesaga’s construction as ‘a tale related with dexterous clarity and artlessness’ (277), locating mediocrity rather in its audience as she discusses its‘adaptation to the taste of an undemanding peasant audience’ (270). Thereis in fact a clear sense of structure in the saga’s purposeful progress to
its inevitable conclusion. The motif of the twin swords, products of theone forge as the brothers are products of the one womb, prefigures theunacknowledged kinship between the two, as when the messenger Vöggr
remarks on the likeness not only between the men, but also between their
weapons:
I have never seen a third man as impressive as you and Hildibrandr are. He
is fairer, but you are no less hardy . . . the weapons match the ­appearance of
those who own them. The other is brighter and better made, but it is no sharper.

The repeated comments on the similarity between the brothers, rather thanbeing a clumsy superfluity as Halvorsen suggests, reinforce the theme of
the inevitability of the coming conflict. And there is some subtlety in thesaga’s treatment of Hildibrandr’s reluctance to fight one who, he is coming
to suspect, may be his half-brother. The author remains largely untouchedby the tragic dilemma of the hero trapped between the demands of heroism
and the obligations of kinship, but controls the inevitability and suspenseof his intricate narrative.
The text translated here is that of the Stockholm manuscript, according to Detter’s edition (that of the more widely available Guðni Jónsson
edition is similar, but with different chapter divisions). The text of theverses is corrupt and difficult to interpret in places, although their general
sense is clear. In producing the translation of the verses offered below,
Detter’s edition has been supplemented by that of Finnur Jónsson, andthe commentary provided by Halvorsen (11–20), who relies on the edition by Heusler and Ranisch in Eddica Minora. Both editions make some
emendations to the text, but these have not been recorded or commented
upon here.

124

Making History

BibliographyÁsmundar saga kappabana. In Fornaldar sögur norðurlanda 1954. 4 vols. Ed.
Guðni Jónsson, I 383–408.
Ciklamini, M. 1966. ‘The Combat between Two Half-Brothers: A Literary Studyof the Motif in Ásmundar saga kappabana and Saxonis Gesta Danorum’. Neo­
philologus 50, 269–79, 70–79.
Detter, F., ed., 1891. Zwei Fornaldarsögur: Hrólfssaga Gautrekssonar undÁsmundarsaga kappabana; nach Cod. Holm. 7, 4to.
Ellis Davidson, Hilda, ed., and Peter Fisher, trans., 1979–80. Saxo Grammaticus.
The History of the Danes, Books I–IX.
Finnur Jónsson, ed., 1912–15. ‘Af Ásmundar saga kappabana’. In Den norskislandske skjaldedigtning. AII 320–22, BII 340–42.
Gummere, F., trans., 1923. The Oldest English Epic:  Beowulf, Finnsburg, Waldere,Deor, Widsith, and the German Hildebrand, Translated in the Original Metreswith Introduction and and Notes, 171–77.
Halvorsen, E. F. 1951. On the Sources of the Ásmundarsaga kappabana. Studia
Norvegica 5.
Heusler, A. and W. Ranisch, eds, 1903. Eddica Minora. Dichtungen eddischer
Art aus den Fornaldarsögur und anderen Prosawerken.

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

125

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions
Chapter 1. Here begins the saga of Ásmundr, who is called ‘Killer ofChampions’
There was a king who is named as Buðli. He ruled over Sweden, powerfuland splendid. It was his custom to favour greatly the most skilful craftsmen he could find, who made treasures for him. He had a queen, and adaughter who was called Hildr. It happened there that the queen died, andthe king was without a wife.
It is said that one evening two men came to the king and went before
him with their greetings. The king asked who they were, and one gave hisname as Olíus, the other as Alíus,—‘and we would like to receive lodging
here for the winter.’He asked if they were craftsmen of any kind, or equipped with skills.
They declared they could skilfully make any object which required
craftsmanship. The king directed them to a seat and bade them stay there.
At that time there were people visiting the king, and in the evening theking’s craftsmen came into the hall and showed him artefacts, gold andweapons. They always did this, if people came there, to enhance the king’s
fame. Everyone praised this workmanship apart from the newcomers. They
said little about it. There was one knife among the objects, elaborately
worked. The king was told this, and he said that he thought they would
not be able to make anything better.
He called them to him and said, ‘Why are you so reluctant to praise thecraftsmanship that is on display here? Can you do any better?’
They told the king that he could prove, if he liked, that this workmanshipwas worth little compared with theirs.
The king told them to make an object that was of excellent value—‘if
you don’t want to show yourselves to be impostors.’
They said they would quickly prove that this workmanship was worthless and of poor quality. They drove the knife into the edge of the table infront of the king, and the blade immediately bent. Then they told the kingto take his precious object, but said that they would try to make anotherknife. The king told them to do so, and then they made a knife and brought
it to the king. He drew it across his beard, and it took off the beard andthe skin, and came to rest in the flesh.
The king said, ‘It must be true that you are skilled men, and now you
must make me a gold ring,’ and they did so, and brought it to the king.

126

Making History

He looked at it and said, ‘It is true to say that I have never seen a ringthat is a greater treasure.’ And all those who saw it said the same.
The king declared that such men were servants of noble people, andthen he said, ‘Now you must make me two swords, which will surpass
other workmanship no less than this handiwork of yours, and which will
never strike a blow that does not cut.’
Olíus said that he was not willing to do this, and that he thought it notunlikely that it would be a serious matter if they were forced to do it, andsaid it was best to behave with moderation. The king said they must doit, whether reluctantly or not.
Then they got to work and made two swords, one each, and then went
before the king and showed him the swords. The king looked at them, andthey looked fine to him, ‘but what qualities do they have?’
Olíus spoke; he said that he would not be able to strike a blowwith that one that did not cut,—‘And I think there will not be any flaws
in it.’The king said, ‘It is good then, and we must test how well it has been
tempered,’ and he thrust the point into the upright of the high seat, andthe sword bent a little, and then he bent it straight in a hole.
The craftsman said that was too harsh a test for the sword, and maintained that it was fit for blows, not for bending. The king said it would
not withstand a blow if it failed in trials like this. And now he tried thesword that Alíus had made, and it sprang back straight as a splint, and in
all ways it was finer than the other one, and it stood up to both the trials
that the king made.
The king said, ‘This one that Alíus made is even better, although bothare good, and what are its qualities?’
Alíus said, ‘This, lord: if they strike each other in the air when they arecarried against each other, my sword will prevail, and yet their qualities
can be called one and the same.’
Then the king took the sword made by Olíus, and tried to break it, andthen the sword broke off at the hilt. The king told him to make a better
sword, and he went off, angry, to the smithy and made a sword and gave
it to the king. He made all the same trials as on the first one, and this one
passed them all.
The king said: ‘Now you have done well, but are there no disadvantages
to it?’
He said, ‘The sword is a good weapon, and yet certain drawbacks willbring about a change of fortune, for it will cause the death of the mostnoble brothers, your daughter’s sons.’

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

127

The king said, ‘You prophesy like a wretch; now the death of brothers
shall be caused, but not noble ones,’ and he struck at him, but they hadtaken a hasty departure, following the lower path.1
The king said, ‘These are great enemies, and we must strive to preventthe sword harming anyone.’
Then the king had a leaden case made for the sword and had it sunk in
the great lake by Agnafit.2
Chapter II. A Marriage
There was a splendid king called Helgi. He was a great warrior. Helgi
went with warships in search of King Buðli and sent him a message that
he would be his ally, and said that he wanted to make his acquaintanceand receive entertainment from him. The king responded favourably tothis. King Helgi went ashore to the hall and got a good reception there.
Hildibrandr was the name of King Helgi’s father, who ruled over the landof the Huns.
Then King Helgi said, ‘I will make known my wish to you by requestinga marriage with your daughter. I can see honour for both in this, for me indefence of your land, and power for you in exchange.’
King Buðli said, ‘I will agree to your proposal if she is in agreementwith us.’
And then the proposal was put to her, and she yielded to the wish ofher father, and now the feast was augmented according to the custom of
noble men, and King Helgi married King Buðli’s daughter Hildr, andafterwards father- and son-in-law were of one mind, and King Buðli had
great faith in King Helgi.
He and Hildr had a son who was called Hildibrandr, who was very
promising, and as soon as he was grown, his father King Helgi said,‘Your foster-father shall be my father Hildibrandr the Great, in the landof the Huns, and then it will be very likely that your future will turn out
as is most fitting.’
Then King Helgi sent the boy there. King Hildibrandr gave him a splendid welcome and declared that he expected that a hero would be broughtup there. After that King Helgi went raiding, while King Buðli grew old
governing his lands.

1 That is, sinking into the earth. This identifies the mysterious smiths as dwarfs(as they are clearly said to be in the final verses).
2 Lake Mälaren.

128

Making History

Chapter III. King Álfr Goes to War
There was a king called Álfr who ruled over Denmark. His daughter wascalled Æsa the Fair. She was widely famed in all lands for her beauty andskill in needlework. Áki was the name of a powerful warrior in Denmark.
He was greatly favoured by the king, and King Álfr had great faith in him.
The king summoned him and said, ‘I want to undertake raiding this summer, and take into my possession a land that has been lying unguarded,
yet it would bring fame to gain it.’
The hero replied, ‘Lord, where do you know of an available land?’The king said, ‘King Buðli is now overcome with old age, and I wantto take control of his dominion.’
Áki said, ‘I don’t wish to hinder great ventures; as usual after daring
deeds, you will be intending to reward your friends for their work.’
Then King Álfr and Áki made ready their force and raided in Sweden in
the kingdom of King Buðli and committed great ravages there with killingand seizure of property. And when King Buðli heard this he summoned
his own force together, and got only a small company, for the support ofhis son-in-law Helgi was far away, and yet he sustained the attack andwas overpowered and died in that battle, and King Álfr took as bootyhis daughter and a great deal of property, and with that they went home.
Then Álfr said, ‘Now it has come about for us that we have plenty of
power and wealth, and for your support, Áki, I wish to marry Buðli’sdaughter Hildr to you, although she already has a husband.’Áki said, ‘What rewards could be more to my taste than this? And it
seems to me none the worse that Helgi was married to her before.’
After that Áki proceeded to marry Hildr, and they had one son. He
was called Ásmundr. He soon grew large and strong and went on Viking­expeditions as soon as he could, and brought into submission a great forceof warriors.
Chapter IV. The Death of King Álfr at the Hands of Hildibrandr Huns’
Champion
Now is to be taken up the story of his brother Hildibrandr, son of King
Helgi, but King Helgi had fallen in raiding. Hildibrandr took control of agreat force and wandered far and wide with his troop. He was related bymarriage to the king who was called Laszínus. He was one of the mostpowerful of kings. He made his way with words of friendship to his kinsman, and was well received there. He now began to be eager for action,
as his support increased.

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

129

There were noble and high-born dukes in Saxland then. Hildibrandr
Huns’ Champion now went against them and said that he wished them to
pay him such honour as he demanded, or they would, like others, face direconsequences. The dukes had a sister, and she was deep in their confidence,for she was the wisest of them. Then they had a private conversation toconsider what course they must take.
She said it was wiser to offer him tribute than to do battle, — ‘and it
is wise to behave moderately, but to turn and resist when there is some
support,’ and said it would happen here as elsewhere that he would be
victorious.
Then the dukes said that they were willing to grant him tribute. He said
that was prudent, and they came to terms with that.
Hildibrandr Huns’ Champion now subdued many peoples under him.
Now he learned the news of the fall of his mother’s father, King Buðli.
He then summoned his force to him again and called a meeting.
He spoke, said it was known to men what difficulties there were withgoing on raids, and said that it was not fitting if one were to make raids
on Vikings or others for little or no cause, while not avenging one’s
grandfather.
After that he moved his host into the kingdom of King Álfr, and said
that the Danes had shown how to go about things. He made sparks fly
and fires burn widely. King Álfr made a counter-attack with his host, andas soon as they met, they fought. Hildibrandr Huns’ Champion had thenature of a berserk, and the berserk rage came over him. Duke Áki was
not at this battle because he was away raiding.
Hildibrandr Huns’ Champion went through King Álfr’s battle formation,and it was bad to be in his way. He struck with both hands and, howling,
attacked the royal standard, and in this battle fell King Álfr and a large partof his force, and after that the Huns went back. Hildibrandr then became
most famous of all men, and always stayed at his estates in winter, andraided in summer.
Chapter V. Ásmundr’s Expedition
Now the story is to be taken up where Ásmundr was raiding, and theVikings considered him overbearing in assaults, and hardy. There wasa man called Eyvindr skinnhöll,3 of Danish descent, a handsome man,3 This nickname cannot be translated. Halvorsen (1951, 37) cites Magnus

Olsen’s suggestion that the correct reading is skinnhæll ‘skin, leather heel’, but
this does not appear to help much.

130

Making History

powerful and wealthy and very prominent. And when Áki and hisson Ásmundr came back from raiding, they were told the news of thedeath of King Álfr. They stayed quiet now. Ásmundr did not know of
his close kinship with Hildibrandr, for his mother had told him nothing
about it.
Eyvindr skinnhöll went to see Princess Æsa the Fair and said he wanted
to propose marriage to her, said that his status and wealth, descent andsuccess were known to her. She said she would abide by the advice ofher friends in her answer.
After that she put the case to Áki and her foster-brother Ásmundr. Áki
said he would not urge this. Then Ásmundr said, ‘You must not marry
Eyvindr. You must marry me.’She said, ‘Foster-brother, he has more authority in the country, and lives
more grandly, but I think that you are more of a man.’Ásmundr said, ‘Give me your blessing, and then honour may come toboth of us from this match.’
She said, ‘I will marry that one of you,’ she said, ‘who brings me fairer
hands from raiding in the autumn.’
Then they dropped this discussion, and they both went raiding as usual,and Ásmundr often risked great danger for large returns, and so gainedin wealth and fame, while Eyvindr often stayed among the cooks and did
not take his glove off his hand.
And when autumn came they both went to see the princess, each with hismen. Eyvindr went forward first and asked the princess to look at his hands.
Æsa the Fair said, ‘These hands have been well cared for, and are whiteand fair; they have not stained themselves in blood or grown ugly withgashes. Let me now see, Ásmundr, your hands,’ she said.
He stretched out his hands, and they were scarred and rather dark withblood and cuts from weapons, and as he reached out of his clothing they
were laden with gold rings up to the shoulders.
Then the princess said, ‘Yet it is my decision that Ásmundr’s hands are
fairer altogether, and you, Eyvindr, are out of this match.’Ásmundr said, ‘Then I must be chosen, lady.’
She said, ‘First you must avenge my father, for it befits me to marry
only a man who takes this vengeance and wins fame against Hildibrandr
Huns’ Champion.’
Then said Ásmundr, ‘How can he be defeated, when no one wins against
him? What do you advise?’She said, ‘I have heard that a sword is hidden in the lake by Agnafit,
and I have heard a report that if that sword were carried against the one

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

131

that Hildibrandr has, his sword must fail. But near the lake lives an oldpeasant, my friend, and he will give you a conveyance at my request.’Ásmundr said that it would show how eager he was to marry her if heagreed to take this risk.
After this Ásmundr went alone to the peasant and told him his businessand gave him the princess’s message. The peasant bade him welcome. He
kept looking at Ásmundr during the evening.
Ásmundr said, ‘Why are you looking at me?’He said that there was a reason. Ásmundr said, ‘How long have you
lived here?’He said he had lived there all his life,—‘but what I am thinking about
now is that messengers of King Buðli stayed here a long time ago; they
were taking Hildibrandr to be fostered by King Hildibrandr, and you are
the next most promising man I have seen after him, and most like him
to look at.’Ásmundr said, ‘I don’t know of any kinship between us; but what do you
know of this sword, where it is hidden, which is said to be so excellent?’
He said, ‘I was here when it was sunk, and I have marked exactly where
it is hidden, and it will still be undamaged, in my opinion.’
Then said Ásmundr, ‘Then take me there, according to the princess’s
message.’
He said he must do so. He took with him a big flitch of bacon and alog of firewood.
Ásmundr said, ‘What is that for, farmer?’
He answered, ‘You will be cold enough when you come up, even if you
warm yourself next to this.’Ásmundr said, ‘You are very sensible.’
Then they went onto a boat, and when Ásmundr least expected it, thepeasant said, ‘Just here.’
Then Ásmundr jumped overboard and dived, and when he came up he
wanted to go down a second time.
The peasant said, ‘That won’t do for you, warm yourself now and eat,’and he did so.
And the second time when he dived, he recognised the case, and lifted ita little and went up and warmed himself. And now he dived a third time,and he got hold of the case, and they carried it ashore, and then Ásmundr
broke open the case with an axe, and the point broke off and stuck in thesword’s blade.
Ásmundr said, ‘You have served well, old man, and accept a gold ringfrom me for your work, and visit me as a friend if you need to.’132

Making History

The old man thanked him, and they parted. After that Ásmundr went
home and told the princess.
She said, ‘Now much has been achieved, and you will be an excellentman. Now a plan is under way: I will send you to the dukes in Saxland
who have lost their dominion to Hildibrandr, and to their sister, for she
is a wise woman, and my advice is to deal then with such things as will
befall, for I guess that most will stumble before you in the face of youronslaught and good provision of weapons.’
And then Ásmundr went away.
Chapter VI. The Discussion of the Dukes and their Sister with Ásmundr
Now it is to be told what happened in Saxland, that one day the dukes’
sister began to speak: ‘My dreams show me that an excellent man is tovisit us here, who will bring us great good fortune and our dominion.’
The brothers welcomed this, and that evening they saw riding to thehall a large man with splendid weapons, and the dukes went to meet him
and invited him to stay there. He said he would accept. They seated him
between themselves, and their sister served them and then sat down to
speak with him and her brothers.
She said then: ‘We do not know much about your condition, but wecan see that an air of greatness surrounds you, and we believe that somegood will come to us from you and your coming here. Now, you will haveheard what hardship we suffer under the oppression of Hildibrandr Huns’
Champion. We first submitted to tribute, but now we must undergo challenges to duels from his berserks every season, and an estate must always
be forfeited for each duel. Thus we have lost both our men and our estates,
and now there are no more than twelve estates left in our dukedom.’Ásmundr replied, ‘Lady,’ he said, ‘you complain to me of a great injury,
and it would be necessary to calm this storm; that is why I have come todefend your dominion, if I can.’The dukes said that it would not be long before a duel would be demanded. Ásmundr replied, ‘Then it must be answered.’
He stayed there now in good favour.
Chapter VII. About the Messenger
Now is to be told about King Laszínus and Hildibrandr Huns’ Champion,
his kinsman by marriage.
Hildibrandr said, ‘Is the time not come when a duel is to be fought
against the dukes and their men? It wouldn’t be difficult now to get theestates that are left.’

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

133

The king said, ‘Rather, we’ll send a man to them and find out if they
can be taken more easily.’
The man who was sent was called Vöggr. Nothing is said of his journey
until he came to the dukes. He went into the hall and before the tables andthen said, ‘King Laszínus and the great Hildibrandr, Huns’ Champion,wish to know whether you are willing to come to a duel, or give up what
is left without a struggle.’
The dukes replied, ‘Matters now stand so that if our possessions seem
too great, it is of less account to lose them than good men.’Ásmundr said, ‘Why do you speak so? Is there not all the more needto hold on, the less is left?’
Vöggr looked at him. Ásmundr said, ‘Why are you looking so fixedly at me?’He said, ‘It is because I have never seen a third man as impressive as
you and Hildibrandr are. He is fairer, but you are no less hardy, and Hildibrandr has heard that an unknown man has come here with fine weapons,
and I must see your sword.’Ásmundr said it was for him to decide. He now looked at it and said,‘In this case the weapons match the appearance of those who own them.
The other is brighter and better made, but it is no sharper.’Ásmundr said he did not know that,—‘but you will want to know whatmessage to take.’
He said that was so. Ásmundr said, ‘Tell your leaders that a man will
come to the duel on behalf of the dukes.’
Now Vöggr rode home and greeted the king and Hildibrandr.
Hildibrandr said, ‘What answer can you give about the dukes’ decision?’
Vöggr answered, ‘I expect they will not fail to come to the duel.’
Hildibrandr said, ‘They are now being very tough, or else that is because of that unknown man; how did his appearance seem to you? You
are discerning.’
Vöggr said, ‘His bearing is such that he is well-mannered, very like you
about the eyes, and it seemed likely to me that he would be very brave,and he has a sword more like the one you have than any I have ever seen,
and I think that it has come from the same forge.’
Hildibrandr said, ‘You are greatly impressed by this man. Don’t you
think that my sword will be equal to his sword, or will he be my equal?’
Vöggr replied, ‘I do not know whether he is your equal. I do knowthat he who fights against him will be put to the test, for he is certainly
a capable man.’
Hildibrandr said, ‘You speak highly of him.’ And now Hildibrandr had
one of his warriors ride to the duelling ground.

134

Making History

And now Ásmundr was told, and he gave orders for his horse to becaught and his armour brought.
The dukes said, ‘We offer you our troops.’
He said he must go alone into the fight. He now rode to where the duel
was to take place, and now they rode at each other with drawn swords,
and with the first stroke Ásmundr cut him in two in the middle, then flungthe pieces out into the river, and then they drifted past the king’s fortress.
Hildibrandr said, ‘Our companion is taking a long time to dispatch thisunknown man.’
Then one man said, ‘Lord,’ he said, ‘now you have a chance to see him
floating down the river, and he is in two pieces.’
He said, ‘That is a sufficiently big blow, and now let two of our men
put themselves forward against him and dispose of him the more quickly.’
They said that was no great deed. Hildibrandr said, ‘It will be our gain
if you win a swift victory over him.’
And the next day they rode to the battlefield, two against Ásmundr.
He said, ‘The berserks here have an unusual rule, since two swords
come against one, but I am quite prepared to take on the fight against thetwo of you.’
They thought it dishonourable for the two of them to stand before one,and both struck at him, but he drew his shield in front of him and struck
each of them a death-blow. Then he rode back to the dukes, and they came
towards him to greet him. He said he reckoned that three of the estates
had been won back for them in his venture.
Then the dukes’ sister said, ‘Our dreams have not been astray about
this man’s coming.’
Now he stayed there in high honour and won great fame from this.
Hildibrandr was now told this, and he said, ‘It seems to me no marvel
for one man to vanquish two. Now four men shall be appointed to ­oppose
him.’4The champions said that it was obvious that they would take him apartin four places, and now they rode to the battleground with fine helmets andbright byrnies and keen swords. Now news of this came before Ásmundr
and the dukes. Then they asked him to go with an equal number of men.
He said he did not want to do that, said that it was usual to be opposedby one at a time, but that it would be well worthwhile if four estates were
gained. And then they met.
4 The close dependence of the saga account on the verses is shown by the factthat both enumerate the numbers opposing Ásmundr as one, two, then four, without inserting three. Saxo’s version does include three.

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

135Ásmundr said, ‘It is obvious that you think yourselves worth little, since
four of you put yourselves forward against one, and these cannot be called
champions but rather infantrymen.’
They grew terribly angry at his words and attacked him at once, but
the sword he carried cut byrnies and helmets as smoothly as tree-bark,and spared neither human bone nor flesh, and it was wielded by one who
had a strong arm and a good heart. They got great wounds from him, andtheir encounter was short, and he killed the four of them and threw themout into the river with their horses.
Now Hildibrandr learned of this and said, ‘Now either our men are lesswarlike than we thought, or else this man is a master.’
Then he called to him five of the fiercest champions, spoke and said
they would not be overtaxed to defeat a single man. They said they meant
to cut his conceit down to size and feed his carcass to the beasts. Thenthey went out.
But when Ásmundr heard this he said, ‘Today I mean to earn my keep.’
They said they were afraid that he was taking too much on himself,
but said they were obliged to reward him with all honour. Then they met
and fought at once, and Ásmundr struck hard and often, and in the end
he killed them all.
But when Hildibrandr heard this, he said, ‘His hand takes long to tire,and it must soon happen that he will have succeeded in the fight.’
Then the hall hummed loudly with the bellowing of the berserks that
this one man should have overcome so many.
Then Hildibrandr said, ‘Now let six of our men make ready, and then
you can win the glory of avenging our men.’
Then they went to the duel, and when Ásmundr heard this, he madeready quickly and said, ‘I have a sword as fit to kill six men with as three.’And then they met. Then the champions said that he must drop thesword and give himself up.
He said, ‘That shall not be, with my shield unhewn. And you have plentyof need to avenge your men.’
Then they fought, and he attacked hard. He used the same skill in cuttingwith the sword’s blade now as before, and although he was wounded, he
did not abate the sword’s blows and cut some of them apart at the waist,and it finished so that he killed them all and went back to the dukes. They
had gained plenty of followers, since their dominion was steadily growing,
and now in everyone’s house there was talk of this champion.
And again this news came to Hildibrandr, and he said, ‘The tally of ourmen is getting thin now; how many are left?’

136

Making History‘Lord,’ they said, ‘there are twenty-six left.’
Hildibrandr replied, ‘It can be estimated from now on that this unknown
man is to be counted among the great champions, and he picks off whoever
is found to oppose him, but a further seven shall be sent who have been
longest in my service.’
Then they made ready. Ásmundr was now told that there would be no
chance to rest.
He said, ‘A meal break will only have been earned if seven estates are
gained.’Then he went, and seven champions came against him. Then said­Ásmundr, ‘Why does Hildibrandr pour out his men but sit at home himself
and make me fight small fry?’
They grew very angry at his words and said he would be in no danger offighting against Hildibrandr. Then they fought, and however they came toblows he killed them all. Then he pushed them out into the river.
And when Hildibrandr heard that, he said, ‘Now much more important
events have happened than we can allow to be forgotten. Now eightberserks must oppose him, for none of us can live with this if it is notavenged.’Then they howled a lot and bit pieces out of their shields. But Ásmundr
was with the dukes, and the news came to him that there was a further
chance to fight.
Then said the dukes’ sister, ‘The honour that we lost has now all comeback, and with greater power than has been reported to us.’Ásmundr said, ‘We must risk it, for he will lure out the berserks, butthere is no control over them, and it would be better that their dominion
should be added to our power, since you were unjustly deprived.’
Then he rode against them, and as soon as they met they fought, and thatwas the longest meeting, but it ended with him killing them all.
But when Hildibrandr heard that, he fumed with rage and said, ‘This
man is so lucky that a host of men make no mark on him. Now the eleven
who are left must go for him.’
And when Ásmundr heard that he was silent.
The dukes said, ‘Now we will share our company with you, and you
will be the leader, and then you will win; you will not fight alone against
the dauntless courage of so many.’Ásmundr did not reply, and evening came, and people had a meal andthen went to sleep.
Ásmundr dreamed that women stood over him with weapons and said,‘What is it with your look of fear? You are meant to be the leader of ­others,

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

137

but you are afraid of eleven men. We are your prophetic spirits, and it is
our task to defend you against men who have quarrels with the dukes,
and those whom you have striving against you.’With that he sprang up and made ready, though most people tried todissuade him. Then he rode against the champions, and they thought they
had his fate in their clutches and said it was more fitting for him to annoy
Hildibrandr than to die. He said he was not as deathly pale as those he had
killed earlier, and said it was obvious that fame would come from opposing
a number like eleven. Then they fought, and they crowded around him,
but he was difficult to overcome, and weapons made little impression
on him, while his sword cut everything that came in its way and that itreached, and it ended so that he dealt death to them all.
The dukes had accompanied him, and declared that his great deeds
would never be forgotten, and people began to say that he would not turnaside even if Hildibrandr Huns’ Champion came against him, the mostglorious of all men at that time.
Chapter VIII. The Fall of Hildibrandr
And when Hildibrandr learned that his champions were killed, berserk ragecame over him, and he set out on his way at once, and said, ‘It must not
be said that I risked my men in the field but did not dare to fight myself.’
And in the fury that had come upon him, as he set out on his way he saw
his son and killed him at once. Then he drove up along the river Rhine
to meet Ásmundr. He had a shield on which there were marks, as manyas the men as he had killed. And when Ásmundr learned this, he madeready for the meeting with him.
And as soon as they met they fought, and most of the blows were big
enough. And when they had fought with great fury for a long time, Hildibrandr gathered his strength and struck at Ásmundr with both hands andwith all his might, and as the sword entered the helmet it broke apart
below the hilt, and the blade went whining down into the river, and he
was wounded with many wounds. Then he spoke these verses:
It is hard to foresee
how one mustby anotherbe borne to death.
Drótt bore you
in Denmark,and myself
among the Swedes.

138

Making History
Two blades there werefor battle ready,left by Buðli;now broken is one.
Thus had the deaddwarves crafted themas none before
nor after has done.
By my head the shield
shattered stands,
on it tallied
ten times eightmarks of thosemen I have killed.
By my head my sweet
son is lying,
the heir I fathered
to follow me;
Not willingly
I denied him life.
I ask you, brother,just one boon,
A single favour,
Do not refuse!
with your clothing
cover me,as other slayers
seldom do.
Now I must lie
of life bereft,
downed by the sword
that deepens wounds.

After that Hildibrandr Huns’ Champion died, and Ásmundr gave him anhonourable funeral and was then displeased with his own deed. Then hedid not meet the dukes, but went to the estate owned by his mother andby Princess Æsa the Fair. Then a man had it in mind to ask to marry her.5Ásmundr recited, as he came to the doorway of the hall:
I did not expectthat judgement,that it would be said
I could not win,
5 This suitor is unidentified in the saga.

The Saga of Ásmundr, Killer of Champions

139

when the Huns chose me
as their champion
eight times
for the lord’s domain.
Alone I fought one,and indeed two,
five and four
friends of the hall,on the field six and sevenat the same time,
I alone against eight,
yet still I live.
Then hesitatedthe heart in my breast,
when eleven men
offered me battle,
until in my sleep
the spirits told methat I must wagethat weapon-play.
Then came the aged
Hildibrandr
Huns’ Champion,
he was no match for me;
and I made my markmeanwhile on him,
below the helmet,
a harsh war-token.

After that people gave him a good welcome, and he was called ­Ásmundr
Killer of Champions.
The princess begged him not to be angry with her although she had
helped to bring this about, and said there was much to excuse her, but
she said there was a strong spell on the weapons. And though he would
have been angry with her, he remembered her love and he prepared forhis wedding and married Æsa the Fair, and he killed the man who had
asked to marry her, and that man is not named. Then Ásmundr Killer ofChampions became a man whose name was famous far and wide, andthat is the end of this saga.