‘BY TIWASS!’ GUNDERIC said, his face ashen. ‘It’s impossible.’
‘To jump across that chasm into fire?’ Gunhild said, shaking her head. ‘It’s too difficult!’
‘I believe that is the point,’ Lokke said. ‘To put people off from trying. I did warn you there was a challenge to overcome.’
‘Some more details might have been useful,’ Wodnas said, looking sideways at Lokke. ‘It hasn’t put everyone off trying, I see.’
He pointed the spear he used as a walking staff down into the gorge. Hagan once more felt his guts lurch as he looked over the edge, down the sheer walls of rock to the river churning over the rocks far below. With a start he realised that what he had previously thought were whitened sticks were actually bones. There were two long columns tangled in a fallen tree, one longer than the other, which Hagan recognised now as backbones, one of a horse and one of a man. There were several skulls lodged among the rocks and fallen branches too. A few scraps of tattered cloth, the remnants of the clothes of previous men who had attempted Brynhild’s challenge, washed back and forth in the running water.
‘It’s unfortunate that you accepted the challenge so publicly,’ Wodnas said.
Gunderic looked around. Hagan followed his gaze as he looked on the many Burgundar warriors who watched on from among the trees behind them. They all had the same look on their faces: one of expectation.
‘Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere?’ Wodnas said, flicking his eyes towards the watching men.
They all nodded and trekked a little way back through the forest until they came to a clearing far enough away from the eyes and ears of the rest of the company of warriors.
‘This Brynhild is a clever one alright,’ Lokke said. ‘She has created a double-edged sword. If a king attempts the challenge, there is a high likelihood he will die. If he turns it down, he will lose the respect of his men, who will then look for another king to replace him. Either way a rival to her realm is removed.’
‘That bitch,’ Gunderic said, gnashing his teeth. ‘To think we used to call her our friend!’
‘Things happen to change people,’ Lokke said.
‘To try that jump would be suicide,’ Geic said.
‘It’s not that bad,’ Sigurd said with a shrug. ‘I could do it.’
All looked at Sigurd, unsure if he were joking or not. The jump was very difficult and any mistake would mean certain death.
‘You showing off, husband, won’t get us anywhere,’ Gunhild said. ‘It has to be Gunderic.’
‘I’m supposed to keep you alive, lord,’ Geic said. ‘For that reason I can’t allow you to try this.’
‘But I have to!’ Gunderic said. His voice was higher than normal and Hagan saw a look of panic on the king’s face. ‘You heard Lokke. If I don’t I risk losing the allegiance of our warriors.’
‘Lord, I’m saying this not just for your sake but for the sake of all the Burgundars: don’t do it,’ Geic said. ‘Your realm is still new. To lose its king so early on could result in it falling apart completely. You have no son. Who would take over the throne?’
All of them looked at Wodnas. The old man, impassive, pursed his lips.
‘It would be whoever you say it should be, King Gunderic,’ he said.
‘I can’t say who when I’m dead!’ Gunderic said.
‘Perhaps you should say now,’ Gunhild said. ‘I am your sister, Gunderic. And the last of our royal Nibelung family. The throne should pass to me.’
‘Nibelungs have not always ruled,’ Brenwic, Lord of the Leuhtungs said. ‘There was a time when Leuhtungs guided the destiny of our folk.’
‘Before the Nibelungs the Volsungs ruled,’ Sigurd said. He placed his hand on the hilt of the great sword sheathed beneath his arm. ‘Tiwass has blessed me. It makes sense that Gunhild and I should rule together.’
‘Stop it! Stop it!’ Gunderic said. There were tears in his eyes. ‘You’re arguing like I’m already dead.’
Sigurd glared at Brenwic, who looked back in defiance. Hagan felt dismay that their company that had left Geneva in such high fettle, with combined purpose, should fall apart so fast.
‘This is exactly what I mean, lord,’ Geic said. ‘If you fall into that ravine the rest of this company will be at each other’s throats, fighting for the throne, before you even hit the bottom. That is why you can’t do it.’
For a moment there was silence as each person in the clearing looked at the others around them. Those who until moments before had been allies, comrades and fellow-folk had changed to rivals, even potential enemies as the chance of gaining power had appeared.
‘The choice is up to the king,’ Wodnas said. ‘Do you want to attempt this challenge, lord?’
‘No,’ Gunderic said in a quiet, hoarse voice. He bit his lower lip. ‘I don’t want to die.’
He looked at the forest floor and another silence descended.
‘Perhaps there is another way,’ Hagan said when he could stand the uncomfortable atmosphere no longer. He was not sure where the idea came from but he was desperate to avert further confrontation. ‘Let me speak to Sigurd and the king alone.’
The others hesitated but Gunderic nodded and they filed away.
‘Sigurd, if you really do think it is easy, then why don’t you do it?’ Hagan said when they were alone.
The big man started, blinked, then frowned.
‘Because it has to be Gunderic who does it,’ Sigurd said. He spoke in a tone of voice like someone criticising a child who had said something stupid. ‘I’m already married to Gunhild. I don’t need to marry this other woman. She is pretty though.’
Hagan lifted the Kin Helm from where the king held it in the crook of his arm. He pointed to the visor and chain-mail veil.
‘You could wear the king’s armour,’ Hagan said. ‘And ride his horse. With this helmet on, and his cloak, no one will know it is you instead of him. At least the women on the other side won’t anyway. That fire burning over there will obscure their view as well.’
‘It’s brilliant!’ Gunderic said. He was smiling again, his eyes alight. ‘Hagan, perhaps you should be my chief councillor.’
Hagan could feel Sigurd glaring at him.
‘I do not mean to push you into this,’ Hagan said. ‘I only ask you to do it if you think you can. I’ve no wish for you to throw your life away without need.’
‘I’m sure you don’t,’ Sigurd said, his lip curling into a sneer. ‘Unless you too think you have a claim to the kingship?’
Hagan felt a surge of genuine terror in his guts. The big man’s sheer physical presence was intimidating enough but when the full weight of his glare was added the effect became withering. For a moment Hagan wondered if Sigurd was about to draw his blade and strike him.
‘I do think it’s easy,’ Sigurd said, his voice almost a growl. ‘If you have enough willpower and determination of your own to push the horse. And I could do this deed that you fear to do, my king.’
Gunderic sucked in his breath through his teeth. The derision was evident in Sigurd’s voice.
‘But leaping the chasm is a feat of bravery that will live in the memory of all who see it and the stories they tell others about it for ever. If I do it dressed as you, no one will know it was me who did it.’
‘That’s the whole idea,’ Hagan said.
‘But then I do the deed but get no glory,’ Sigurd said. ‘Where is the advantage for me in that?’
‘Whatever you want,’ Gunderic said. ‘Name your price – within reason.’
‘You name me as your successor,’ Sigurd said.
‘Of course,’ Gunderic said. ‘My expectation was that my sister would rule if anything happened to me anyway.’
‘Your sister will rule as my queen,’ Sigurd said. ‘But I shall be king. I want to make that clear.’
‘Gunderic, to agree to this is dangerous,’ Hagan said.
Sigurd planted his large forefinger on Hagan’s chest.
‘Shut your mouth, Dagelung, or I will teach you the meaning of real danger,’ he said. Hagan once more felt the burning weight of the big man’s fiery eyes. ‘Well, King Gunderic? What do you say?’
‘I agree,’ Gunderic said. His eyes flicked sideways then back again.
‘Very well,’ Sigurd said. He was now smiling a wolf-like grin. ‘Let us get changed.’
Hagan checked no one was watching then returned to help the king and Sigurd strip out of their armour. Sigurd unclasped his cloak and removed it.
‘Unbuckle this, will you?’ Sigurd said to Gunderic, turning his back to the king. As he did so Hagan noticed that the back of Sigurd’s unusual scale-like armour did not meet. It was buckled together down the back but the big man’s torso was so large it pulled the sides too far apart to join together, leaving a gap between them. This meant the armour had not been made for Sigurd.
When he pulled on the king’s black mail shirt the same thing happened, even more noticeably. Even with both of them hauling at the straps, Gunderic and Hagan were unable to make the mail shirt meet at the back at all. In the end Sigurd shrugged them away and pulled on Gunderic’s cloak, sweeping it around his shoulders and covering the gap in his mail. He took Gunderic’s helmet and squeezed it onto his head. The iron visor amplified his heavy breathing.
Gunderic, on the other hand, had no problem fitting into Sigurd’s scale armour. Indeed the arms were loose and the tunic, which came down to Sigurd’s thighs, almost reached Gunderic’s knees.
‘Perhaps you should hang back out of the way when Sigurd rides,’ Hagan said, beginning to doubt if his plan would work. ‘I will get the horses.’
Gunderic looked at the drooping sleeves of the armoured jerkin he wore and nodded.
Hagan ran out of the clearing and back to the Burgundar company waiting at the edge of the precipice and along the track back downhill from it. Seeing the questioning looks of Gunhild and the others he nodded to them then went to find Gunderic’s horse.
It was a magnificent beast – a Hispanic stallion with a slick black coat. The sight of the creature returned some of the hope in Hagan’s heart. It was strong and feisty which looked promising if carrying the weight of Sigurd across that yawning chasm.
Hagan led it and Sigurd’s own horse back to the edge of the clearing where the king and Sigurd waited.
‘I’ll use my own horse,’ Sigurd said. ‘She is used to me and we trust each other.’
With misgivings churning in his stomach, Hagan handed the reins to Sigurd.
‘Right,’ Sigurd said. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
He jumped onto the back of his horse and trotted off down the track in the opposite direction to the ravine. The warriors standing on it jumped out of the way as he galloped downhill. A little way down the track Sigurd halted, reining his horse to a sudden halt. The beast reared on its hind legs and wheeled around to face back up the slope.
‘Ya!’ Sigurd cried out, kicking his heels into the horse’s flanks and thrashing the reins. The horse started forward and began galloping up the hill. Sigurd shouted and kicked, goading the horse onwards. It went ever faster, picking up speed despite going uphill. He leaned forwards, yelling words of encouragement into the creature’s ears as he continued to drive it onwards. From inside the metal cage of the helmet his voice sounded strange and metallic, which added to the disguise. As he rode up the hill the warriors who lined the track began cheering, their noise swelling the closer he got to the ledge at the top.
The shouting attracted the attention of the women in the settlement across the ravine. Hagan saw Brynhild and several others appear above the palisade that surrounded the settlement. The view of her shimmered in the heat rising from the fire below, but at the sight of the horseman galloping towards the precipice, Hagan thought he saw Brynhild’s face fall into a look of consternation.
He clenched his teeth and fists, breathing through his nose and trying not to hold his breath. Sigurd in Gunderic’s armour galloped across the last thirty paces to the ledge at the edge of the gorge.
Sigurd gave one last cry, forcing the horse onwards. The creature – no doubt frightened out of its mind but more in awe of its master – gave out a loud whinny as if in response.
Total silence fell on the watchers so the only sounds were the drumming of the horse’s hooves on the soft, pine-needle covered floor of the forest track and the rushing of the river over the rocks far below.
The horse reached the edge of the precipice. Sigurd gave one more shout and kicked his heels then the horse took a huge leap. The drumming of its hooves ceased, but its feet still thrashed as if it were on the ground and for a moment it looked like horse and man were riding across the air to the other side. A great gasp went up from everyone watching on both sides of the ravine.
Then the horse’s forehooves crashed down on the far side. Its back legs followed and it skidded forwards, momentum pushing its rear end around in a semi-circle.
‘He’s made it,’ Wodnas said.
The horse let out another frightened whinny but Sigurd, remorseless, drove it on towards the fire. He did not even attempt to leap it – there was no time – but instead ploughed into the burning barricade, kicking it aside. It shattered and fell apart, toppling blazing sticks in every direction.
Before the horse even came to a stop Sigurd was off its back and stooping to pick up Brynhild’s ring. He held it aloft, grasped between the forefinger and thumb of his mailed right hand.
Cheers of triumph, pride and relief burst from all the Burgundars in the woods around Hagan.
Then a realisation came to Hagan. Sigurd could not keep Gunderic’s helmet on for ever. And when Brynhild and her people came out of the gate in the palisade they would realise just how tall he was. The ruse would be discovered.
The same thought appeared to occur to Sigurd. With the cheers of the Burgundars still ringing across the ravine, he leapt back onto his horse. With a cry and kick of his heels he began to ride back towards the edge of the precipice. In a moment he was galloping straight for the ravine. The cheers died in the throats of the onlookers, replaced by a collective gasp as the horseman leapt into the air once more, completing the deadly jump again in the opposite direction.
As Sigurd’s horse landed on their side of the gorge the Burgundars went wild with elation. As far as they were aware their king had been set an impossible challenge and not only had he met it but he had done it twice. Hagan felt himself carried along by the emotion, clenching his fists and stomping his feet as Sigurd rode past him.
Despite the clear dislike Sigurd had for him Hagan could not help but admire the courage, skill and strength of the man.
Sigurd rode back to the clearing where Gunderic awaited, having already stripped out of Sigurd’s armour. Hagan trotted to the edge of the clearing and stood guard while Sigurd tossed the ring to the king then pulled Gunderic’s helmet, mail and cloak off. Gunderic pulled it on and not a moment too soon as floods of Burgundars came rushing on foot after Sigurd, eager to congratulate the king.
Gunderic, holding Brynhild’s ring in his fist, pushed his way through the thronging warriors who clapped him on the back and cheered him all the way back to the ravine.
On the far side Brynhild and her warriors had filed out once more from behind the palisade and now stood on the edge of the cliff. They all looked upset. Brynhild herself was aghast.
Gunderic motioned for silence and his warriors settled down. When relative quiet was restored, the king held up Brynhild’s ring for all to see.
‘Well, Brynhild?’ he said, a broad grin on his face. ‘I have completed your challenge and I repeat my offer. Let us unite our two kingdoms and our war hordes. And to seal this alliance we shall be married.’
Brynhild looked at the ground, then heaved a heavy sigh.
‘I swore an oath that I would only marry the man who was brave enough to jump this ravine,’ she said. ‘Most were too frightened to try and the few who did are now at the bottom of that river down there. I am a woman of my word and I must accept your offer or break my oath.’
The blonde woman at her side grasped her arm. She said something that the Burgundars on the other side of the ravine could not hear. She had a pleading look on her face.
Brynhild shook her head.
‘I must,’ she said. ‘If I break my word then who will ever trust it again?’
‘Will you put over the bridge then?’ Gunderic said. ‘Let us cross.’
Brynhild shook her head.
‘My oath did not include letting men into my realm,’ she said. ‘That still stands. I will come to you in Geneva in a week.’
Head bowed, she turned and went back through the gate in the palisade.
Hagan watched from the edge of the clearing. Gunderic clapped hands with those around him, a broad grin on his face as he accepted their plaudits and congratulations. He was his old, arrogant self and a far cry from the anxious wreck who thought he was going to have to jump the chasm himself not long before.
He felt the weight of a large hand on his shoulder and turned to see Sigurd standing beside him.
‘Well, friend,’ Sigurd said. ‘It seems we both know something about the king that could be very dangerous for both of us.’
‘So you bear me no ill-will for suggesting you make the jump?’ Hagan said, hope lifting his heart that he had perhaps not made an enemy of one of the most powerful warriors he had ever met.
Sigurd raised an eyebrow.
‘Right now you are the only witness to what Gunderic said back there about the royal succession. For that reason I will make sure you make it back to Geneva alive so it can be made official. If it wasn’t for that you’d already be dead.’