NCE he had wedded      Wæls’s daughter

Sihtgar Sigeflæd’s lord      sent her father word

“Hie to my hall      here with my bride

your sons as well      shield-breaking bairns

your thegns and theows      throng to us here

The wood-fish wearies      winter-drowsy

frost must fare      the fields and woods over

lock the land      leave us nothing

But my hall holds fast      from hoar-frost safe

fire-warmth and food      Feast with us

sit by the seat      of Sigeflæd peace-weaver

my bride begs      her brothers and father

weapon-shaking Wæls      to winter with us”

Welcomed these words      Wæls Ræþhun’s son

spoke that spear-lord      to sons and thegns

“Let us fare forth      fly us to Geatland

sail the swan-road      strike with oar

row unresting      until we reach that hall

see there your sister      Sihtgar her husband

wait out the weather      winter with them”

Sigemund spoke      son of Wæls

“Let us wait a while      why go hastily?

Three months only      their marriage has lasted

We miss her this much?      Must visit now?

Sihtgar is sly      his speech dark

a worm-tongued warrior      Beware and stay put

We must keep away      and winter here”

Wæls spoke      son of Ræþhun

“Are you that Sigemund      strongest of your brothers

who fought by your father      when fell thousands?

Ever an ash-breaker      awake or sleeping

can this man quail      who has killed so many?

Refuse such welcome      ride not to kin?”

Sigemund glowered      grimmed at these words

his brothers boasted      battle-bold nine

shake they would never      show not fear

never slaughter nor sea-storm      had sent them running

neither would mead-bench      or meat and hearth-fire

So said those sons      Sigemund’s brothers

Sigemund spoke      son of Wæls

keen of counsel      he calmly answered

“If my brothers believe      I can bear no fear

let us go and grapple      game at war-making

see then who shudders      when sheaths are emptied

I reckon our ride      will return no harm

I reckon Sihtgar’s      rooms are warm

I reckon as ready      to receive us is Sigeflæd

but Sihtgar is sly      his seeking dark

cause he has      to kill us all

Well I remember      their wedding day

offerings and ashes      eating and gifting

the Mad One came there      made us an offer

a bright battle-edge      to the best among us

thus speaking he thrust      into the thickest beam

high in the hall-roof      hilt-deep

flashing in firelight      The feast ended

every guest gripped      gave it a pull

my battle-bold brothers      the bridegroom too

each and all      even Wæls

until Sigemund stood      son of Wæls

That edge is his now      easily taken

No ætheling ached      it angered no drihten

my brothers on benches      the bride’s father

I sat beside them      sword on my knees

and mood-frost faded      flowed again mead

save for Sihtgar      Sigeflæd’s husband

our sister’s lord      stared and grimmed

The Mad One had marked him      his mood darkened

Sihtgar spoke to me      slyly worded

‘Give me that gift     gold you will have

that must be mine      the Mad One’s edge’

I cannot I said      the sword is mine

‘Give me that weapon      women you will have

theows to lie     your thews between

that must be mine      the Mad One’s edge”

I cannot I said      the sword is mine

‘Give me that sword      silver and red-gold

women and weapons      wave-horse and lands

houses and hounds      all you will have

that must be mine      the Mad One’s gift’

Never I said      you need not ask

Greybeard gave      this gift to the best

the best man bore it      freed from the beam

Easy for others      even Sihtgar

would it have been      had it been theirs

Well I remember      wan Sihtgar

gloomy but grinning      grim but laughing

He sat beside Sigeflæd      sang and drank

gave to the gleeman      gifted the shaper

made as if merry      the madness working

He slunk away soon      sarded his bride

Sigeflæd peace-weaver      our sister married

she wished not that wedding      Wæls had urged it

They rose and rode off      returned to Geatland

sailed too soon      the supper unfinished

He feigns forgetting      fools us with welcome

but Sihtgar is sly      he stalks from his house

That is no bad hunter      who brings the hart to him”

Sigemund fell silent      spoke no more

Wæls spoke      son of Ræþhun

“Surely my son      will shirk no fighting

even with all      his angry brothers

That is a great one     a glad father me

to have made such men      mighty ones all

We need not fear      nothing can be our downfall

though Sihtgar be sly      slay he will not

his bride still blushes      their best still new

We will go gladly      Geatland awaits”

II.

T Wæls’s words      they weaponed and saddled

Readied they rode      rushed to their doom

north toward night-dark      never resting

Three days      they fared

by horse over hills      hard riding

Three days      they sailed

took ship over sea-road      skimming waves

wended togetherward      Wyrd and those men

When struck the strand      Sihtgar’s dunes

the shore’s shingle      they scattered under the keel

a coast-guard called      came down to them

with welcoming words      warm tidings

Geatish greetings      gladly spoken

Many he had met      on that mere-edge

but seldom so strong      or striking a band

he could recall      coming to Sihtgar’s lands

Wæls spoke      son of Ræþhun

thanked that thegn     and thanked the gods

for bringing his bairns here      borne over whale-road

sly seal-bath      that swallows many

“Let us make blessing      battling gods

here on the strand      hard by the foam

slay and set fire      send through the ashes

The gods give gifts      to them that greet them”

The coast-guard      climbed on his horse

spoke in response      “Such can wait

hie now homeward      to the hall with me

Sihtgar awaits      Sigeflæd too

all will make offering      each will pray

once we are come      welcomed there”

Sigemund spoke      son of Wæls

“Seldom so sweet      a song I have heard

from the eagle that eyes      the enemy waves

Ten ships ashore      and he shakes no weapon

demands no names      nears us unwary

I would not follow      his words are false”

The coast-guard spoke      said these words

“Sihtgar has said      to seek you out

watch the world-edge      for winging sails

You sent us word      to wait your coming

Sigeflæd his bride      would see you at once”

Wæls spoke      his words for Sigemund

“Remember aright      the rider we sent

went well ahead      with word for Sihtgar

Geatland greets us      guests it has looked for

hie now homeward      the hearth beckons

fire and friendship      feast for warriors”

Sigemund fell silent      spoke no more

III.

OW from the nesses      neared more riders

weaponed watchmen      warding the sea-march

came to the coast-guard      calling and hailing

gathered about Wæls      grew to a throng

led them inland      left the ships

None of that number      would need them again

Forth over fields      fared that party

toward the tor      touched by sun-light

the gloaming’s gleam      on golden house

Sihtgar’s stead      stout mead-hall

The sunlight shied      shortly would darken

Northern night      neared the Wælsings

On grassy ground      their guides halted

a swell of earth      in sight of that hall

the coast-guard spoke      killed with his words

“Wait a while      we meet them here

Sihtgar our drihten      Sigeflæd peace-weaver

look for you now      will lead you in”

Now Wæls awoke      wary at last

and heard the thegns      hearth-companions of Sihtgar

with spears and swords      seaxes and arrow-shafts

boards and battle-shirts      boar-crested helms

surging from strand      to slaughter-place

Then Wæls’s warriors      rich-weaponed sons

marked in the meadow      a mighty war-party

spied spearheads      in the space between hills

where that host      hastened to meet them

Wæls spoke      son of Ræþhun

“How I have hastened      to hear this sound

this song often struck      as I stood in the weapon-hedge

All my year-days      I yearned for this most

terror-tune      Tiw’s humming

thrumming to thole      as thegns are killed

I shall die on this dune      my doom is clear

my grave shall be Geatland      gory barrow

too eager for ale      elk-sand and red-gold

horn and hearth      I hurried deathward

I blame not my bairns      their boar herded them

Sigeflæd neither      this is Sihtgar’s deed

By moonrise the Mad One      will murder me

crafty killer      quickest of gods

but ere that happen      he shall regret it

Sihtgar sword-breaker      shield of the Geats

This bloody bed      shall bear him down too”

Then Ræþhun’s son      slew the coast-guard

the sons and Sigemund      slaughtered the others

wetted their weapons      in welling battle-dew

hewed off the heads      held them aloft

shook them at shield-wall      Sihtgar’s band

bold battle-line      between them and the hall

golden-gabled      on the Geats’ hilltop

Now Sihtgar showed himself      sent yet more

behind the Wælsings      bound them in

Sigemund spoke      son of Wæls

“To ring this hill round      run Sihtgar’s band

Better not to have bothered      these brothers will not flee

He mocks us to march      men after us

I mean to make      not a move toward the ships”

Wæls answered      edge-loving king

“Say again son      spoken truly

to a coward all kinds       are cowards as well”

They hurled the heads      into host below

ten men tossed      ten men fell

stricken and slain      by skulls pitched down

Some heads only show worth      once sundered from neck

The Geatish spearmen      gathered themselves

rushed in a row      ran spears-leveled

Wæls and his band      brothers and thegns

shouldered shields      shook war-gear

swords and spears      seaxes and byrnies

wrathful rattle      the roar of the Mad One

The two sides struck      with sound of thunder

shafts were shivered      shields bitten through

bone-houses broken      blood flowing

but Wælsings’ weapons      whetted blood-worms

hacked heads through      hewed down spear-trees

no few fell      in that first sword-storm

thirty thegns      three of the Wæls’s kin

stretched on the sward      sword-sweat drenched

Horsa and Helm      Herewin the youngest

lay lifeless      loosed by death

then edge-swap ebbed      all withdrew

both bands borrowed      a breathing-space

IV.

IHTGAR spoke      said to Wæls

“Monster’s bane      murderous king

your sons lie slaughtered      so will you

give yourself to the Geats      gold you will have

end this arrow-song      answer me well”

Sigemund spoke      son of Wæls

“Sihtgar is sly      so are we

No gold will you get      by giving up

Better a barrow      boasts fulfilled

even those ending      in early slaughter

than false friendship      feeding yourself to wolves”

Wæls spoke      weaponed king

“No loss to lose      a life without boasts

oaths made good      are all a man has

Well I remember      reckless words

never to flee      fire nor battle-light

never to fail      in fight or contest

never to flinch      from iron’s touch

So I swore      spoke long ago

in Ræthhun’s hall      in hearing of my father

marked by the Mad One      who makes men wild

I have fled neither fire      nor foe nor weapon

in all my year-days      ever true

I will not flee now      and never shall

not for gold      nor Geatish threats”

Sihtgar’s spearmen      steadied anew

shaped their shield-wall      shouted and rushed

dared that dune      doughty sword-trees

where Wæls waited      warlike and grim

ent-strong with anger      ever battle-geared

The two sides struck      staggered the Geats

their foes though fewer      fought them harder

shafts were shattered      shields were cloven

bows were busy      brought men low

Foremost in the fighting      far-traveled Wæls

stood steadfast      stepped never rearward

so too his sons      Sigemund oak-rooted

mightiest among them      much bloodied

they struck and stabbed      and their strength held

At last the enemy      ended that scrum

withdrew from the hilltop      wearied again

Much slaughter was made      in that second attack

sixty of Sihtgar’s      sundered and killed

three of the Wælsings      welling blood

Æscgar and Ælfgar      Æþelgar the wisest

hewn down and heaped      their hearts stilled

Sihtgar spoke      shouted to Wæls

“Mother’s bane      murderous kinsman

your sons lie slaughtered      so will you

enough of this edge-play      evil fighting

give yourself up      gather your dead

your sons we will send      seaward and home

all may leave      everyone but you

you we will yield not      I yearn for your blood

grim and greedy      the gods curse you”

Sigemund spoke      son of Wæls

“Truly he has said      you will sail not from here

not leave this land      but lie here ere night

neither shall we      never forsaking

Your sons will stay      sing their death-tune

smite and spear      shield-walls burst

Sihtgar will sorrow      for speaking false words

the Geats will not get you      give not yourself up

Better a bloody end      bashed and spitted

with sword unsheathed      and sons around you

than being taken and tortured      touched fearlessly

whirled westward      unweaponed and unmanned”

Wæls spoke      saw clearly his Wyrd

“My grave is Geatland      ground made costly

see here my sons      slain and heaped up

six so far      stalwart men

war-hedge and wound-hoe      dear words to them

keen-edged and crafty      quick and high-minded

they welcomed war      wielded good spears

feared no fiend      fled no night-walker

man and monster      meant nothing either

That I overlived any      their eagerness caused

But wait not long      they will welcome me hence”

V.

HEY shaped the shield-wall      smaller now

stood on the stacks      of stricken men

Bodies belched      blood flowed

Already that evening      the eagles marked them

ravens reeled      in reddening heaven

Then Sihtgar’s host      hefted their shields

waded the wash      of wound-tears running

Sihtgar sent them      sharply drove them

wary at world-edge      watched the sky-lamp

in the last light      they lashed out and fought

spears spitted      sprayed gore

great red gobs      gaping wounds

edge-points opened      arms and shoulders

limbs hung limp      lost to their owners

bone-locks burst      byrnies split

wrenched in wrestling      by weaponless men

sundered from shield-wall      struggling beneath

they tangled and tore      together in corpse-heaps

breaken bone-houses      a barrow for them

That small fight      was not swiftly won

Sihtgar’s fighters      fell all around

bold and battle-ready      but bested by Wæls

Sank there as well      the sons of Wæls

killing and killed      unquickened at last

three fell then      thrust through and slain

Æþelberht and Leofbehrt      Ecgberht keenest

each took eight      enemies to die

starkest and steadiest      of the sons of Wæls

save for Sigemund      standing alone

only the eldest      of all remaining

Sigeflæd’s sibling      Sigemund the twin

all dead the others      ended in battle

Then Sihtgar’s spearmen      stunned by winning

held off a heartbeat      beheld those two

Sigemund Wæls’s son      Wæls Ræþhun’s son

alone with their ash-spears      awaiting the fight

unbowed though bloodied      bruised and gashed

Sihtgar spotted      the sword of the Mad One

grievous gift      begetter of slaughter

that unkind king      had kindled this madness

to bring him boar-helms      board-cleaving warriors

Sihtgar spoke      shook with laughter

“Give me that sword      shining blood-worm

it will do no good      to gird it on now

here in my hand      hand it over

Your father will fall      follow you down

cast down killed      at the crown of this hill

falcon fodder      food for wolves

Then I will take it      Tiw’s sickle

No good it gained you      though gods smithed it”

Sigemund spoke      son of Wæls

“Enough has been spoken      attack and be done

the Mad One meant      for me to have it

best of the brood      on benches that night

brothers betrayed      bloodied here now

Slay and steal      strike me down

Bear this battle-light      it belongs to me yet”

Wæls said nothing      nearing death

reckoned and ready      raised his sword

Sihtgar sent      his spearmen forward

before and behind      both his shield-walls

They were long in laying      those lords down

Hurrying uphill      each host struck

before and behind      battle returned

Sigemund standing      steadfast by his father

No few they felled      in the fight’s dusk

until at last      leapt a spearman

thrusting true      tore at his shoulder

unstrung his arm      useless fell

Wæls awash      wet with sword-sweat

one-armed      angry and crafty

shattered his shield      shook that foeman

hurled him overhead      downhill from the fight

Then Wæls watched      wary and keen

beheld from the hill      hieing Siegflæd

bearing battleward      bride of Sihtgar

her theows and thegns      thronged about her

Sigemund’s sister      sought their father

fared over field      flew toward them

Wæls watched      unwearied and proud

sure then that Sigeflæd      should avenge him

reckon their losses      ready a plan

will the wasting      of her wicked drihten

Wæls smiled      son of Ræþhun

that raven-feeder raised      his rich slaughter-edge

that breaker of benches      boasted once more

“Come killers      quickly strike

I can ward no weapon-blow      unwearied though I am

step up and strike      stand you ready

to bear my blows      as I bleed my last

Ten I will take      if I take even one”

VI.

HEN they attacked      thirty of Sihtgar’s

spear-points steady      shields overlapping

the foremost fighters      fielded by Geatland

rushed ready      reddened their swords

ran him through      Ræþhun’s bairn

But he died dearly      dealing blows

cleft and cut      as craftily as ever

wielded his weapon      wonder-slayer

Twice ten      he toppled in that brawl

bettered his boast      with his last breath

At last he lay      loaded with wounds

gashed and gored      greedy for edge-bite

So went Wæls      warrior-king

Sigemund stood      still weaponed

alone in that acre      of ash-struck dead

hedged all around      with a hundred spears

Sihtgar spoke      slayer of the Wælsings

“Forward fighters      fyrd attack

of all that band      that beached their ships

struck the strand      not six hours ago

one alone      unkilled but friendless

here in the heaps      holds yet that sword

Dead on this dune      his dearest hearth-companions

brothers and bench-mates      bonded thegns

all cut asunder      every one dead

The sun is set      slaughter must end

here in the gloom      go and strike

before full black      blots out the slaughter-place

See him there standing      Sigemund alone

end this edge-play      his evil cast down”

Sigemund readied      raised his shield

gold-edged war-gear     gleaming sword

boar-crested helm      black-eyed and dread

and Sihtgar’s spearmen      shuddered and held

made no move      toward that mighty foe

Sigemund spoke      son of Wæls

“Come killers      quickly strike

here my lord lies      loaded with wounds

costly killing      cut down dear

I can do no better      than to best that warrior

father and fighter      foremost in middle-earth

far-traveled      famed everywhere

not unskilled      in slaughter-craft

His son will see      his slaying repaid”

Sihtgar spoke      spurred his war-band

shouted and shoved      those shaft-breakers

That drihten drove      dared them onward

Forth then the fighters      forward to Sigemund

struck with shields      spear-shafts hooked

knee and ankle      knocked him down

board-beaten     bound straightaway

thegns overthrew him      thrust him down

Sigemund slew      seventeen more

before that band      bore him to Sihtgar

VII.

OW came Sigeflæd      to the slaughter-field

gory ground      glutted with wound-sweat

broken bone-houses      bloody heads

Sigeflæd came      Sihtgar’s bride

rode to that ridge      reddened downland

From hall she had beheld      the heaving spears

wetted weapons      welling battle-lines

Now she strode      to Sihtgar her drihten

spoke these words      Sigeflæd Wæls’s daughter

“What will you do      deadly ring-giver

my father fallen      felled my brothers

all but one      overliving the rest

You bloodied that band      broke all their shields

smote and sundered      slaughtered them all

of this one alone      I ask your will

How are you mooded      murder-lord?”

Sihtgar spoke      slayer of the Wælsings

“Why are you come?      What do you think?

Snared and slain      I slaughtered this host

baited your brothers      bore Wæls hitherward

foolish father      fond of daughters

one overlived      overminded Sigemund

boastful of blade      now beaten down

rent by ravens      bereft of weapons

bare of byrnie      bloody and gutted

he will give me that sword      and get slaughter

At last will end      the heirs of Wæls

only sons by their sister      shall live on

Thus mooded am I      by Mad One driven

What will you do      deadly peace-weaver?”

Sigemund’s sister      sword-wise and cunning

wove these words      worked them upon Sihtgar

“Well I remember      Wæls my father

a high-born husband      hoping for me

a king for kin      crafty gold-friend

how when he got      the Geatish lord

son of sword-lords      Sihtgar my husband

to come to his kingdom      called him there

fed and feasted him      fatted upon our benches

battling with boasts      besting him always

so that Sihtgar seemed      slightest of all

weaker than any Wælsing      nor wiser than any

this Sihtgar saw      seethed at his hosts

Yet for elk-sand and gold      eager for silver

my father brought me forth      Fair was I

glad gold-tree      gleaming in hall

a gift for a gold-friend      Geatish king

Saw I there Sihtgar      sitting by the coals

knew him for naught      a never-keen man

The women had whispered      words of this

Wæls spoke      spear-wise father

‘See here Sihtgar      sea-borne drihten

come from Geatland      and gathered to us

We will work a wedding      wife you to him

I reckon this right      a rich pairing’

I answered him      angry and grim

‘So silly as Sihtgar      saw I never

Gladly would I greet     a groomsman well-chosen

a warrior of worth      wonder-strong

breaker of shields      bright-sworded spearman

Glad too a gold-friend      gift-giving ætheling

old or young      of any winters

but this weakling      I will not

Settle not for silver      send this to Geatland’

The Wælsings watched      wary brothers

fearful of father      frightening Wæls

and silent hall-guest      Sihtgar helm of the Geats

Wæls spoke      son of Ræþhun

‘Never am I mooded to mock      maiden daughter

Sigeflæd Wælsings’ sister      speak no more

The Geatish drihten      you dare not spurn

Welcome his wealth      his war-band and halls

insult him not      in mine own mead-hall

War he would wage      though win we would ever

Better not to battle      boast not against him

Weave peace now      war-wounds leave unopened

be this man’s bride      bear you togetherward

friends and father      will not forsake you’

Sigeflæd spoke      said I to Wæls

‘Gladly would I greet      a good man

welcome a warrior      worthy shield-breaker

rich or reckless      reckoning not years

but I will not this wight      weak and cunning

trusting to treasure      dragon-sick schemer

Settle not for Sihtgar      send this homeward’

Wæls spoke      son of Ræþhun

feared in the fighting      fallen now

‘I have given our guest      gold and feasting

theow-women      and thegns’ friendship

hosted in hall      hailed him over bee’s-gift

He hied him here      hurried to us

Sigeflæd to see      sister to the Wælsings

daughter of Wæls      of drihtens mightiest

Will you not wed?      Winter comes

the gold-gotten will go      Geatland welcome him

and word will wing      wounding tales

of insult and ire      an ætheling betrayed

bereft of bride      bustled homeward’

Sigeflæd answered      I said my last

‘Foolish fathers      force their kin

an unwise wont      willing evil

I will wed      the warrior you choose

you know I hold      to hallowed custom

but I was asked      answered true

Good never was gotten      forgetting the bride’

Wæls spoke      Rædhun’s son

‘At last agreement      I ask Sihtgar

will you wed      this willing daughter?’

Sihtgar was sly      so you well know

that drihten dreamed      of death already

sword-song and slaughter      of Sigeflæd’s kin

he would not wed      wished nothing of Sigeflæd

but would revenge      wished it earnestly

That trickster talked      trapped with words

said yes to Wæls      yielded himself

foresaw that feasting      led fastest to murder

Sihtgar snared      Sigeflæd’s kin

Now lifeless they lie      less Sigemund

foremost fighter      of that far-known band

Spare not to slay      nor simply kill

You reckon to repay      revenge for insult

you have gotten that gift      given by Mad One

now lengthen his loss      leave him to die

bound to branches      of unbreakable oak

unweaponed and wound      in the wolf-thick holt

Nightfall and fog      draw forth the ents

bee-wolf will bite      and bitter orc

Eaten alive      at last you get peace”

Sihtgar stood      shield of the Geats

that drihten doubted      the daughter of Wæls

VIII.

IHTGAR spoke      sly war-thegn

“Wæls is dead      his daughter lives

Sigeflæd and Sigemund      and sister redes me

counsels against killing      to carry to leaf-sea

bind in the boughs      that bold Wælsing

rest in revenge      wrought by wood-beasts

Well and wise      I would not kill myself

but wonder I must      that Wæls’s child

begs not her brother      unbloodied yet

be left to live      released to flee

a peace-weaver pleased      with prolonged death

I doubt misdoing      in this dark counsel”

Sigeflæd spoke      slyer yet

“Gifted to gold-friend      to Geatland I went

wedded unwilling      a weakling’s bed-comfort

asked I answered      earned this regardless

Wæls you have wounded      well did he die

his sons slaughtered      their sister they gave away

Mind-thoughts of Wæls      made this wedding

and Sihtgar’s anger      and ambush and crow’s-feast

Willed by Wyrd      Wæls chose for me

now battle-wounds bearing      unburied he lies

his Wælsings too      welling with battle-dew

slaughtered by Sihtgar      sly unchosen

let them lie      loaves for wolves

bind this brother      bear him woodward

of ents eaten      eagerly feasting

world-wound      working upon him

His blood will bear      burden of my wedding

last of all      who let me wed

Sigemund      son of Wæls”

Sihtgar spoke      Sigeflæd’s lord

“Work the will      of my wife your queen

set Sigemund      staked to a tree

draw out his death      dread leave-taking

fell fodder      for fearful beasts

wood-fish and wolf      wary elves

every deer and dweorg      deep in holt-fastness

But fetch him first      to face me

see his sword      in Sihtgar’s hand-grip”

IX.

HAT ring-giving Geat      greatly mooded

chose his death      doomed beforehand

then rode off to rue      his ruthlessness yet

Sigemund they bore      set before him

gloated and grimmed      the Geatish drihten

swung that sword      that had sundered byrnies

Already that edge      had eaten of hearth-companions

In year-days yet      yonder winters

wound more it would     wielded fiercely

warriors make to well      women to keen

but not by the hand of Sihtgar      helm of the Geats

Sihtgar spoke      Sigemund taunted

sought him to say      whose sword it was

Weyland’s work      wonder-edge

Mad One’s gift      murderous blessing

But Sigemund spoke not      said a word never

and Sihtgar the sly      sent him hence

forth from the field      fearful slaughter-place

That host harried him      hands bound

going forth in the gloaming      grey twilight

drawing him deep      that deadly war-band

into the wood      evil fate

Greatest in Geatland      that grim holt

swam with sea-dark      swallowed all

Who wandered that wood      went never out

fell and fen      filled with orc-kin

dread of deer      death-dealing wood

Ever since old times      evil had stalked it

that great grove      god-haunted

the Geats made gifts      gory offerings

threw up gallows      theows hanged

sheep and she-goats      sundered below

and all to ashes      everything burnt

but gifts could not gain      gods did not send

peace to that people      pround kinfolk

They waxed wary      of Wyrd-bound forest

stayed away      strode not within

Worse yet they would waken      year-days hence

but now they forebore      those bounds to cross

that wild wood      wolf’s-yard

brimming boar’s-sea      bower of ents

elk-home      eyrie of ravens

These all take      taste and rend

gorge and glut      glad of their prey

owl and eagle      eat what these leave

Such for Sigemund      Sihtgar willed

X.

IS men in the midst      of that mighty wood

fearful forest      found an oak

acorn-father      friend of ship-builders

standing stark      strength of the wood

They bent and bowed      bound him there

wound many times      with world-strong rope

So Sigemund sat      strung up

ash-shiverer      oak-bound

brethren bereft      that breaker of shields

Then came Sihtgar      king of the Geats

wrath-mighty      wry and grim

in dusktime dimness      that drihten spoke

said to Sigemund      that sly folk-helm

“My revenge is wrought      remains you alone

sword-stealer     son of Wæls

greedy and gloating      no guest-friend you

When asked you answered      angered me

who bent to beg      before your hall

fell forgetfulness     to forget oneself

Now with back to bole      bent is he

who galled his guest      gave him naught

share that shame      shorn of kin

that battle-light beloved      I bear homeward

to say to Sigeflæd      ‘See the edge

battle-bought      blood-tongue

I took today      tore from hand-grip

wrested from foe      on reddened down

that belonged to your brother      bloody Sigemund’

That woman shall weep      weary herself

pour out her tears      no peace-weaver she

while Sigemund sits      sundered by beasts

eaten whole     hand and foot

bitten and broken      blood welling

ash will be left      only that

while Sigemund’s sword      to my sons goes down

hailed and hallowed      when he is forgotten”

Thus spoke Sihtgar      sword in hand

Sooth son of Wæls      Sigemund said nothing

but waited and watched      wary and keen

Wise eyes wander not      nor wise mind-thoughts

So Sihtgar left      sought out his wife

did as he had boasted     boldest of kings

but his wife wept not      nor words spoke

he had done what she asked      dragged Sigemund hence

A while he watched      wondered at her

doubting a trick      from double-dealing Wælsings

but she betrayed nothing      bided her time

At last alone     he left to sleep

wondered at her willing      such evil to kin

XI.

HE stars stood forth     stark night-gleams

cast down cold      cut Sigemund through

where alone he sat      singing of Wæls

his brothers too      bloodied kinsmen

The wood waked      wights of all kinds

stretched and stood      strode greedily there

Sigemund heard      hailed their coming

No fear he felt      unflinching man

nor dread of Sihtgar      or that drihten’s words

Sihtgar slumbered      shielded and far

abed in his burh     blessed with dreams

He knew not     never he doubted

those words he crafted     to cow his foe-man

spoke the truth     spelling his doom