Loving Brynhild: A Novel of Norse Mythology

By Clarise Samuels

The beautiful and sensuous Norse goddess Brynhild resides in the palatial heavens of Asgard, famous for the Hall of the Slain, also known as Valhalla. As Odin's lover, Brynhild has a special status in Asgard, where she is the head of the Valkyries. Her amorous relationship with Odin, however, has incurred the jealousy of Odin's wife, Frigg. When Brynhild willfully disobeys Odin's orders, the chief of the gods decides to exile Brynhild to live another lifetime on planet Earth. Here she is to marry the greatest warrior on the planet, Sigurd, and her mission is to enlighten the populace, who are making slow progress during this barbaric period of Late Antiquity. But many obstacles are placed between Brynhild and Sigurd, and the two star-crossed lovers are forced to part. Brynhild is obliged to marry Gunnar, the King of the Nibelungs. As the virgin goddess whose strength is derived from her virginity, Brynhild has no interest in marital relations, but she must perform her wifely duty as the Queen of the Nibelungs, much to her consternation. In the meantime, Nibelungenland is facing a serious threat from the barbarian Huns, who mean to pillage and destroy the magical, mythical kingdom under the leadership of their infamous chieftain, Attila.

[16+ reading audience]

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clarise Samuels
• Release date: May 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301269426

Clarise Samuels

Clarise Samuels is a Montreal writer. Her poetry chapbook, Fairy Tales for the Bourgeoisie, is available through Amazon and was favorably reviewed by Books in Canada. Her first novel, Loving Brynhild, is a fantasy/philosophical novel based on Norse mythology and told from the point of view of the goddess Brynhild. The book was serialized by the British journal Goddess Pages from May 2010 to May 2012. Clarise has also published short stories in the genre of fantasy, science fiction, and mild horror in a variety of journals. Clarise has a Rutgers Ph.D. in German literature and is the author of a scholarly tome on the poetry of the Holocaust poet, Paul Celan, which can be found in major university libraries all over the world. Her second novel, The Many Loves of Edward August von Traugott, was recently completed and is now seeking a publisher.

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Loving Brynhild: A Novel of Norse Mythology

By

Clarise Samuels

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Clarise Samuels on Smashwords

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Loving Brynhild: A Novel of Norse Mythology

Copyright 2013 by Clarise Samuels

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental.

Adult Reading Material

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Acknowledgements

My primary sources for background material were the Völsunga Saga (translated by William Morris), with elements borrowed from the Edda by Snorri Sturluson (translated by Anthony Faulkes), the Nibelungenlied (translated by A. T. Hatto), and the Völuspá (translated by W. H. Auden and P. B. Taylor).

The entire novel was serialized from May 2010 to May 2012 in the British literary journal Goddess Pages. An earlier version of Chapter 1 was originally published in Wild Violet Magazine (Vol. 5, Issue 1, 2006) under the title The Exile of Brynhild.

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Cover Image: Odin's Farewell to Brunhilde by Konrad Dielitz (1892)

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1: The Exile

Chapter 2: Life in Valhalla

Chapter 3: How Sigurd Slew Fafnir

Chapter 4: The Rescue

Chapter 5: On the Way to Iceland

Chapter 6: Family Reunion

Chapter 7: The Feast

Chapter 8: The Betrothal

Chapter 9: Gunnar's Plan

Chapter 10: Ladder to Heaven

Chapter 11: The Helmet of Dread

Chapter 12: How the Queen Quarreled with Gudrun

Chapter 13: An Army of Angels

Chapter 14: Ragnarök: The Fate of the Gods

Chapter 15: Epilogue

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Loving Brynhild

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Chapter 1

The Exile

Odin chanted his magical conjurations, raised his right hand, and in so doing, violently shoved me through the celestial portals that separated heaven from Earth. And then I was falling through the seven heavens, falling, falling, falling, until I landed on the mountain peak called Mount Hindarfiall. In my dazed state, I could only think, how did I get here? I was a goddess from Asgard, the heavenly abode of the gods. But now I was lying on a mountaintop, only half conscious.

Odin evicted me from Asgard. He evicted me because I had become enthralled with the dashing, blond warrior who was slated to die in combat that day. But the devastatingly handsome general did not die of his wounds in that fateful battle, as had been ordained by Odin. I saved him, against orders, and it was the aged general with the silver hair who perished instead and was whisked back to Valhalla by my Valkyries. I paid dearly for this transgression. I was to live another life on Earth, that festering, violent cauldron of primitive emotions and savage desires. Earth was no place for a goddess. But I had no choice. Odin’s severe pronouncement was uttered, and my imminent doom was decreed. I was to be evicted from the heavens.

Despite the harshness of this sentence, Odin, the Supreme Being, longed for me every minute of his eternal existence. Odin was bewitched by me.

Yes, Odin had a wife. He was severe with his wife, Frigg, who was constantly jealous and suspicious of his relationship with me. Frigg could not stop obsessing with this insult to her dignity, and Odin would order his wife to desist with her constant questions and innuendos regarding our relationship. Frigg carried on relentlessly when so handled by Odin. She fairly screamed at him, It’s because you would leave me for a dazzling young beauty if we were human and living down there with the rest of them, isn’t it? You’re always going on and on about how you love all of them. You sympathize with the seducer!

Yes, that’s right, Odin would scream back, because I am the Ultimate Seducer! I am the All and the Nothing, the Finite and the Infinite. They call me the All-Father and many other names—Val-Father, Blindi, Grim, Ganglari, Herian, Hialmberi, Thekk, Thund, High, Just-as-high, Vakr, Skilfing—as you well know, given the tower of ‘babble’ humans have devised with their languages.

Frigg’s frustration had some basis to it. Odin was obsessed with human relationships. Romance was a particularly brutal area for humans, fraught with pain and false notions. Odin could not determine what was causing all the confusion on the planet of which he was most fond. He tried to emulate human foibles in his own relationships in order to discern the true nature of human perplexity. He was not making very much progress. One plan, which we were all called upon to help develop, was to devise ways to help humans express their most heartfelt emotions. Thus, the need arose for the secret code Odin conceived just for humans. Based on eye contact, innuendo, furtive touching, and even long breath pauses, the secret code required accurate interpretation and shrewd insight. As a result, these well-meaning but misguided beings often misunderstood each other, and this merely caused more grief and sorrow, which drove Odin to distraction since this was the very opposite of what he had intended. Humans were most unpredictable. Odin could make no presumptions when it came to these favored creatures of the gods.

But the secret code was still better than no system at all. Odin developed dozens of different ways of communicating emotions based on eye contact alone. Holding one’s gaze steadily and directly for a prolonged period of time, while smiling or looking content meant, I desire you. Briefly meeting the other’s gaze but then looking away quickly and lowering the eyes, still keeping the beloved in one’s peripheral vision meant, I’m thinking about it, but I need more time. Holding the other’s gaze steadily but without smiling, and sometimes with a rather dour facial expression meant, Why are you hurting me like this? To make a signal with the corner of the eye was refusal; to lower the eyes and make a quick gesture with the head was consent. To shift the eye pupil all the way to the left or right meant someone in that direction had entered the room and was observing you. And the list went on.

This was madness. Divine madness.

Frigg’s jealousy was not completely unjustified, even though her female tendency to be overly possessive of her husband was greatly exaggerated and a flaw more telling of human nature than godly nature. The lack of divine serenity and dispassion, which Odin would have liked to see in his wife, was more than just problematic—it was almost enough to drive this Father of the Gods to drink. Odin forced himself to withstand the onslaught of Frigg’s hysterical accusations with composure, careful never to confirm or deny the volatile suspicions voiced in such tirades. Yet every god and goddess at Asgard knew the truth of the matter.

Yes, the truth was that Odin adored me, and Frigg’s wifely instincts had accurately read her husband’s heart and mind. But Odin and I were bound to have a falling out. I had already strained Odin’s patience with a series of minor infractions. Nevertheless, when I finally broke with Odin, it all happened so quickly that I was stunned by the swiftness of the irreversible chain of events.

It was supposed to have been just an ordinary and uneventful day in the life of a Valkyrie. I had been dispatched to the front lines of a significant battle to collect the most honorable souls. These were the souls who had fought with the most courage and skill or for the highest ideals. Upon the arrival of the Valkyries, the old king, Helm Gunnar, was engaged in battle against the young king, Agnar. Odin had promised the victory of the battle to the seasoned man of years, the venerable Helm Gunnar, for despite his age, he was still among the greatest of warriors. But I was not anticipating the young Agnar to be a man so uncommonly handsome; blond and bearded, he was the perfect model of a Norse warrior, and I had a weakness for such men. I became infatuated with Agnar the moment my watchful gaze alighted upon him. I had arrived at the scene just a bit too early. Victory did not yet belong to Helm Gunnar; the beautiful Agnar, who was destined to die that day, was still alive and embroiled in the thick of the battle.

I did the unthinkable. I intervened, and no one had asked me to intervene. I interfered with Agnar’s agenda; I countermanded Odin’s decree. I saved Agnar, and instead condemned Helm Gunnar, the aged and legendary warrior, to an untimely death. So I carried Helm Gunnar’s soul off the battlefield that day, and the younger warrior lived. When we returned to Valhalla and revived Helm Gunnar, the old king awakened in a daze.

Gods, you are all beautiful, Helm Gunnar noted as he looked around and focused his eyes upon me. Who are you?

I am Brynhild, the Chief Valkyrie, and this is Valhalla, I replied.

What? This is Valhalla? The Valkyries? Is it...? Have I...? Am I...?

Yes, I interrupted the white-haired grandfather of princes. You are dead.

The gods in heaven be damned! Helm Gunnar cried out as he tried to raise himself in his weakened state. All the signs and wonders predicted I would win, and I would live! What happened? What went wrong?

At this point I was beginning to experience something that most definitely felt like a guilty conscience. Informing Odin, of course, was quite another matter. Odin could not hide his shock and bewilderment. He had been expecting Agnar. What in the name of every god and goddess at Asgard went wrong? Odin fairly screamed. Where is my pure and faithful Agnar?

He lives, Sire, I admitted frankly, deciding not to mince words. You see, I intervened.

You did what? he asked in a low voice, sounding ominous.

Please forgive me, Odin, I said, curtsying lightly, but I intervened.

You intervened, the Father of the Gods repeated calmly.

Yes, I responded.

You are not allowed to do that, Odin stated softly, still calm.

I know, I answered with equal calmness.

Ah, yes, and if you know that, Odin started to whisper frantically as his anger mounted, what in the name of heaven and earth prevailed upon you to do something only a half-crazed idiot in a desperate frenzy of insanity would presume to do? Odin railed at me for a full half-hour. The All-Father ranted and raved as I sat there in silence. He paced back and forth in front of me, his face crimson with anger and his hands balled into fists as he blamed, censured, and rebuked me for my irresponsible behavior. Indeed, he nearly became apoplectic.

Finally, Odin ordered me to leave the room. When I reached my chambers, I slammed the door behind me and tried to regain my poise. I knew Odin would not recover from this assault on his authority too soon, and the consequences would be severe. Yet I did not suspect what lay in store for me. Later that evening, I was summoned back into the screening chamber, Odin’s personal domain. Odin’s color had returned, and he was calm. He stood by the window with his back to me. Brynhild, he began slowly, and I knew something of great import was about to follow, as you know, you must never intervene in the fate of humans unless they ask. Odin began pacing again, his hands crossed behind his back. You see, for the most part, I give my earthly creatures free will. Just think of it, if I were to intervene every time something unpleasant happened in the course of their transient lives, what would that contribute to their spiritual growth and progress? How would they come to know their most divine traits, their finest hours?

I know, Sire, I affirmed, waiting impassively for what was to come.

If you know this, why did you do it?

Because I fell in love with the human incarnation of Agnar’s soul. And I felt pity for him, I declared openly.

And you doubted my purpose, my will, and my intentions?

Oh, no, Sire, not for a moment, I persuaded him. I would never doubt the will of Odin.

Yet you fell in love with a human, and it was love at first sight, no less. You disappoint me, Brynhild. I expected much more discipline from you than this, Odin remarked with a paternal tone of authority in his voice.

I’m sorry, Sire. It shall not happen again, I assured him.

Indeed, it shall not because I am relieving you, at least temporarily, of your duties as Chief Valkyrie, Odin announced.

You…what? Because of one indiscretion? You are overreacting, Sire. You, of all the gods, should know better, I stammered, still stunned by the blow of his pronouncement. Odin wrinkled his brow, and he stared at me thoughtfully before he spoke.

This is not your first indiscretion, Odin reminded me. And it is time, Brynhild. I have known for a while now the time was near. I just did not know how to tell you. I felt my heart sinking.

Time for what? I asked. Odin turned around, walked over to me, and put his hands upon my shoulders.

Brynhild, you are due to return for another lifetime on Earth, he said simply.

Good heavens! I gasped. Have you gone mad, Sire? That is not possible!

There is no choice in the matter, Odin insisted, smiling at me like a benign parent. You have to go.

But why? I asked with a catch in my throat, as my lower lip trembled. I cannot do it. I absolutely cannot do it. I cannot go through that again.

You can, and you must, Odin noted sadly. You will be incarnated whole in your present form and will appear on Earth at the human age of about thirty or so, give or take a couple of years. To be quite honest, Odin continued, I need some time to myself. Frigg is going insane with jealousy, and she is starting to obsess with this issue. I cannot hide from her the true nature of my feelings for you. This will give me a chance to reconsider this dilemma and to sort out all the emotional confusion and the ethical implications. Frigg is, after all, my wife. I have to have some consideration for her feelings regarding this sensitive matter.

And the amnesia? I inquired, knowing no one was allowed to return to Earth with their memories of Asgard intact.

I can compromise with partial amnesia, Odin answered. I exhaled deeply. Even partial amnesia was a bonus on Earth; I would not be stumbling about in such a complete state of disorientation.

When do I have to go? I asked.

Report to my chambers tomorrow morning, Odin ordered as he turned away from me.

I knew I had been dismissed.

In my anguish, I ran through the labyrinthine corridors of Asgard to return to my apartments and prepare myself mentally for what was to come. I had a difficult time calming down and attempting to remain stoically unfazed as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Needless to say, I did not get much sleep that night. I was being exiled to Earth, a backward and treacherous world beset with dense energies.

The next morning I made my way back to Odin’s chambers, where he awaited me with bleary eyes; he had not slept well either. If the other gods and goddesses had been informed of my imminent exile, they did not speak of it to me. Truly, I was not to be envied. I entered Odin’s suite, and once again he placed his hands on my shoulders.

Are you ready? the All-Father asked as his eyes searched mine.

Yes, Sire, I’m as ready as is both humanly and divinely possible, I replied.

Then listen carefully. You will incarnate in your goddess form, which will emerge from nothingness, on the top of a remote mountain called Hindarfiall. It will be a dramatic event, and there can be no human witnesses. Anyone witnessing this event will take it as a revelation of myself, something I would rather not deal with right now. After you materialize in your human form, you will become aware you are lying on a slab of stone in a white gown surrounded by a circle of fire and covered by a suit of armor. No one but Sigurd, the greatest warrior of his time, will be able to penetrate the circle of fire. He is your true husband, and he will awaken you. Do you understand?

Yes, I understand, Sire, I answered.

Good. Are you quite ready? Odin asked again.

Quite, I returned weakly, knowing full well no one is ever completely ready to be evicted from the heavens.

Raise your right arm, Odin instructed me. I did so, and the fingers of my raised hand gently rested against the fingers of Odin’s hand, raised high over my head. He closed his eyes and hypnotically uttered words filled with magical incantations. A tornado formed itself around us, and it began wildly to kick up my hair and the skirts of my white, gossamer gown. Odin stepped back outside the circle of the tornado, and concentrating fiercely, he pointed at me with his right hand. His index finger, which we often poetically referred to as Odin’s thorn of sleep, sent out waves of energy designed to propel me earthward and make me forget my life as a goddess. You are on your way, Brynhild, he yelled over the deafening roar of the tornado. Be brave, and remember me!

I screamed as the tornado carried me away from Odin’s chambers. I became aware I was plunging, ceaselessly plunging, into an infinite abyss that terrified me beyond anything mere mortals could divine in their wildest dreams. I dropped through every one of the seven heavens, at last leaving them behind me as I entered the physical universe.

With a crash not unlike the impact of a thousand boulders raining upon a valley floor, I landed on the flat slab Odin had described to me, on the top of Mount Hindarfiall. The sky had turned black; there were scores of lightning bolts all over the mountain, deafening claps of thunder, and high winds no mortal could withstand. I was exhausted. I did not even notice the castle walls, which had sprung up around me. As I finally drifted into unconsciousness, one thought was forming.

You must remember, Brynhild, you must remember.

And then I succumbed to the overwhelming blackness of a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 2

Life in Valhalla

To be sure, I had brought this exile upon myself. Yet, I never deliberately wanted to defy Odin. My impulsive actions were born of my natural spirit, and I could not change the essence of that spirit. I had displeased Odin once again, and this exile from Asgard was the consequence.

Asgard was splendid. The gods were continually celebrating earthly feats of war and valor. Odin held a gala event every night for all the fallen heroes, a magnificent feast that always took place at Valhalla, which was indeed Odin’s favorite hall. These festivities were, without exaggeration, divine—we danced as if we were drunk with ecstasy, drunk with the music that captivated the body like a snake subdued by a snake charmer. Odin encouraged the participation of all the gods and goddesses, while he himself discarded his usual reserve and allowed himself to fall under the tantalizing spell of the music he so loved. The twelve principal gods of the Aesir, the chief race of gods under Odin’s leadership, were always in attendance, including Thor, Balder, Heimdall, Freyr, Tyr, Vili, Ve, Vidar, Sif, Freyja, and Idunn. Odin’s wife, Frigg, was almost always conspicuously absent.

Odin would stroll up and down the long rows of tables, passionately playing his violin, and stopping occasionally to lavish his sweet kisses upon any Valkyrie in sight. Dance, dance, all of you! Odin would yell out for all to hear. There is nothing to fear, nothing to be anxious about. All is well with the universe, and all problems will reach a happy conclusion. Drink until you are senseless. For this one night, I give you my permission. Asgard is the safe zone of the universe, where no ills can befall you.

He did not eat; wine was both food and drink for him although he often accepted a cup of mead, akin to wine but sweetened with honey. Odin was handsome beyond measure, with thick, dark curls flopping over his face and the bluest eyes in the universe deeply penetrating those of anyone he even glanced at. By the end of the evening, Odin would be in quite a state of agitation. Looking wild-eyed and obviously drunk, his insatiable lust could no longer be hidden with decorum or polite gestures. And it was on such evenings that I was always called upon to follow Odin back to his private chambers and gratify his sensual compulsions, which were of the most ardent and frenetic nature.

Frigg was the only principal goddess who did not attend the nightly festivities since Odin discouraged it. Later Frigg would hear from the others that her husband had left the banquet at Valhalla with me, and she would give him hell about it. It was no small feat to give someone hell in heaven, but Frigg had successfully devised her own methods with her constant invectives. Odin bore these tirades with patience and stoicism. The All-Father was aware of the contradictions in his behavior; he would always insist he was taking his cue from human practices regarding romance and fidelity. Odin excused himself with his desire to mimic humans and understand these difficult creatures a little better. Frigg, however, was not mollified by her husband’s concern for the human plight.

While lying in Odin’s arms and indulging his amorous inclinations, I would argue with him about our ethical predicament. It is a burden to be the object of Frigg’s resentment, I would constantly lament. Odin would not pay much heed to such complaints.

Never mind Frigg. I can handle her, he would always insist.

Can you really? The moment you turn your back, she is glowering at me and constantly telling the others how lazy and incompetent I am. She never gives me any credit at all for my performance as head of the Valkyries, and when I enter the room, she sticks her nose up in the air. Her contempt is palpable.

I will speak to her, Odin would promise lamely. Speaking to Frigg never did much good.

Frigg, queen of the heavens and the protector of the Northern housewife, with her homespun gowns, which were famous for their inlaid gemstones (she made her own jewelry for the adornment of both herself and her elaborate costumes), and her long copper hair, which became dark purple under the ethereal lights of Valhalla—Frigg was the bane of my existence. Frigg was unusually plain for a goddess. Most notably, she was remarkably overweight. The wife of the All-Father was hysterical and insecure about her inconstant husband, and her perpetual disquietude was such that she was constantly eating.

Frigg’s ungainly appearance provided for her the underlying motive for protecting housewives. She sympathized with the plain, middle-aged wife, especially those who were casually abandoned and left by the wayside when a husband moved on to someone a bit younger and more interesting, not to mention more sensually appealing. "For all her harangues against Odin about marital infidelity, there are rumors Frigg once slept with both of Odin’s brothers, the