Hermod and Hadvör

In the days long ago, there lived a king and queen. They had an only

child, called Hadvör, who was not only the heiress to the crown, but

was also the most beautiful maiden ever seen.

Now, the king and queen, having no son of their own, had adopted the

child of a friend. The boy was called Hermod; he was about the same age

as Hadvör, and equally well-skilled in all knowledge that pertains to a

young prince.

The young people had played together ever since they could remember

anything, and the friendship of their childhood only strengthened as

they grew older, and they promised to continue true to one another, no

matter what might happen.

When they were about eighteen years old, the good queen sickened, and,

feeling that her end was drawing near, she called the king to her

bedside.

“Dear husband,” she said, “I feel I have not long to live. Pray,

therefore, grant me the last request I shall ever make you. I know how

lonely you will be without me, and I hope, therefore, that you will

marry again. But, if you do, let it be the good queen of Hetland, who

has lately lost her husband, and who, having no children, will love our

dear ones as if they were her own.”

The king, overwhelmed with grief, promised to do as she wished; and the

queen died peacefully.

For some time the king could think of nothing but the terrible loss he

had sustained. At length, however, wearying of his lonely life, he

fitted out a ship, and went to sea.

After sailing along for some days under brilliant sunshine, one morning

a thick fog arose. It grew denser and darker, and the sailors could no

longer tell which way they were going, when the mist suddenly lifted,

and they saw land before them.

The king ordered a boat to be lowered, and was rowed ashore. He then

got out alone, telling the men to wait for him.

Going quietly along, he presently came to a wood, and the sun being

very hot and the king very tired, he was glad to sit down and rest

under the shade of a big oak tree. He had not been long there, however,

when he heard music in the distance, and, following the sound, he

presently came to a beautiful open glade, and there he saw three women.

One of them, clad in richly embroidered robes, was seated on a golden

stool. She held a harp in her hand, and had evidently been playing, but

she looked sad and troubled. Beside her, seated on a lower stool, was a

young girl, also handsomely dressed, though not so richly as the elder

women, and behind them stood another girl, also good-looking, but very

plainly dressed, with a green cloak thrown round her. She evidently was

the servant of the other two.

After gazing at the women for a few moments, the king stepped forward

and saluted them respectfully.

The lady seated on the golden stool, having returned his greeting,

asked him who he was and where he was going.

“Alas!” said the king, “I have lost my dear queen, and now, in

accordance with her last wish, I am on my way to Hetland, to ask the

widowed queen of that country to become my wife.”

“Oh, king!” replied the lady. “How wonderful is the hand of fate! I am

the queen you are in search of! Hetland has been overrun by Vikings,

who burned and destroyed everything they did not carry off, and it was

only by a miracle that I managed to escape with my daughter and my

attendant here.”

When the king heard this, he hesitated no longer, but at once offered

to take her back as his bride.

After a slight hesitation, the lady accepted the king’s offer, and,

having rested a little longer, the king led the way back to the boat.

They quickly embarked, and, without any further adventures, arrived at

the king’s country, where a great wedding-feast was immediately

prepared, and the marriage took place, amid great rejoicing.

For some little time matters went very smoothly. Hermod and Hadvör kept

much to themselves, leaving the queen and her daughter to enjoy all the

splendour and gaiety of the court. But, as time went on, Hadvör, who

was always kind to those about her, seeing that Olöf, the queen’s

attendant, was much neglected and snubbed by her mistress, took

compassion on her, and often asked Olöf to come and see her.

After some months a war broke out with one of the neighbouring

countries, and the king had to go forth at the head of his army. No

sooner had he sailed than the queen went to Hermod and told him she

wished him to marry her daughter.

“That I cannot do,” replied Hermod, “for I love Hadvör, and she alone

shall be my wife.”

Then the queen, finding that no persuasion and no threats had any

effect, got very angry.

“If you will not marry my daughter,” she cried angrily, “neither shall

you wed Hadvör. I have not forgotten the magic taught me by my mother,

and, as you will not obey me, I lay my spell on you. You shall live on

a desert island, and all day long you shall roam about in the shape of

a lion; only after sunset shall you return to your human form, and then

you shall think of Hadvör and remember your former life, and thus

suffer doubly in looking back on the past; and you shall not be freed

from this enchantment till Hadvör succeeds in burning your lion’s

skin.”

“I am in your power now,” replied Hermod; “but your punishment will

overtake you ere long, for I also possess some magic gifts; and, though

I am at present powerless, as soon as your wicked spell is broken,

which it assuredly will be, you and your daughter, who is as wicked as

you are, shall be turned into a rat and a mouse, and you will bite and

tear each other till you kill one another.”

So Hermod suddenly disappeared, and no one knew what had become of him.

The queen made a pretence of sending out people to search for him, but

no trace of him was found.

When Olöf next visited Hadvör, she found her in great grief at Hermod’s

disappearance.

“Nay, do not weep,” she said; “the queen, by her wicked enchantments,

has caused him to disappear for a time. Both she and her daughter are

two wicked giantesses, who have only assumed their present form, and,

when Hermod refused to marry her daughter, she put in practice her

magic arts. She has transported him to a desert island, where he will

be a lion during the day, but resume his own form every evening, and

this charm will last until you succeed in burning the lion’s skin. The

queen has also further arranged that you are to marry her brother, a

terrible, three-headed giant, who lives underground. I, too, have

suffered from her arts,” concluded Olöf; “she carried me away from my

parents’ house, forcing me to serve her. Fortunately, however, she is

powerless to hurt me, for the green cloak I always wear over my dress

was a gift from my godmother, and nothing can harm me while I have it

on.”

Poor Hadvör! She felt very hopeless when she heard of all her

stepmother’s wicked plots against her, and entreated Olöf, by the love

they bore each other, to assist her.

This Olöf gladly promised she would do.

“But first, you must keep watch and guard against the queen’s brother,”

she said. “He lives in a cave beneath the castle, and will rise beneath

your chamber some night. You must, therefore, always keep a large pot

of boiling pitch ready, and as soon as you hear a great rumbling noise,

like an earthquake, and see the ground cracking, at once pour the

boiling pitch down the cracks, and this will kill the giant. It is the

only thing that can hurt him.”

About this time, the king returned home from the wars, and was greatly

distressed at Hermod’s disappearance. He made inquiries and sent out

messengers in all directions, but no trace of him could be found, and

the queen had to use all her arts to console the king under the loss of

his adopted son.

Hadvör meanwhile remained quietly in her own house. Following Olöf’s

advice, she kept ready the boiling pitch for the giant, and had not

long to wait. One night, shortly after the king’s return, she was

suddenly awakened by a loud rumbling noise; the ground began to shake

and tremble; but Hadvör, having been fully prepared, was not

frightened, and summoned her maidens to assist her. Then, as the noises

grew louder, and several great cracks appeared in the floor, Hadvör and

the girls poured the boiling pitch down the open seams. Then gradually

the noises ceased, till everything was perfectly quiet again.

The next morning the queen rose up early, and as soon as she was

dressed she hurried to Princess Hadvör’s house. There, lying on the

ground outside, she saw the dead body of her brother the giant.

“Oh,” cried the queen angrily, “that must be Hadvör’s work! But the

minx need not think she shall go unpunished, and upset all my schemes;”

and bending over the body of the uncouth monster, she continued: “By my

magic power, I will that your body shall be transformed into that of a

beautiful prince, and that Hadvör shall be accused of causing your

death.”

With these words she placed her hand on the giant’s body, and

immediately it was changed into the likeness of a handsome prince.

The queen then returned to the palace, and, pretending to weep, she

told the king that she feared his daughter was a very wicked girl,

though she always seemed so good, for that her brother, a brave and

handsome prince, had come to ask Hadvör’s hand in marriage, who without

any rhyme or reason had caused him to be killed, for she, the queen,

had just seen his dead body lying outside the princess’s house.

When the king heard this, he hastened to Hadvör’s house, accompanied by

the queen; and when he saw the dead body lying there, just as the queen

had described, he was very angry. He said he could not have wished for

a handsomer or nobler son-in-law, and that he would gladly have

consented to the marriage.

Then the queen begged that she might be allowed to choose Hadvör’s

punishment, and the king, greatly incensed with his daughter, gave his

consent.

So the queen said it would only be a just punishment that Hadvör, who

had killed her brother, should be buried alive in the same grave with

him; and the king, though sorry for his daughter, having given his

royal word, said the queen’s wishes must be carried out.

Olöf meanwhile, who, unknown to the queen, had overheard all that

passed, hastened away to tell Hadvör. When the princess heard what the

queen intended doing, she was very frightened, but Olöf comforted her

and promised to help her.

“And remember, if you wish to bring Hermod back again, you must not

mind undergoing some pain and suffering for him.”

Olöf then brought her a short cloak, which she told Hadvör she must

wear over her dress when she went into the grave or burial mound. The

giant, she said, would be a spirit after he was buried.

“He will then ask you to cut off and give him one of your hands,”

continued Olöf; “but you must not promise to do this until he has told

you where Hermod is, and how you are to get to him. Then when you want

to get out of the grave, he will let you mount on his shoulder; but

beware how you trust him: he will only help you to put you off your

guard, and will take hold of your cloak and drag you back. See,

therefore, that it is only loosely tied, so that when once you have

your foot on the outer edge the cloak alone will remain in his hands.”

Meanwhile the grave was being prepared, and when all was ready the body

of the supposed prince was laid in it, and Hadvör, who was not allowed

to say a word in her own defence, was lowered in beside him, and the

grave, was walled up and closed.

And then all happened as Olöf had foretold. The supposed prince became

a spirit, but in his former giant form, and asked Hadvör if she would

let him cut off one of her hands and her hair, saying, “Only a maiden’s

hand will open the grave, and a maiden’s hair will Hermod save.” But

Hadvör refused unless he first told her where Hermod was, and how she

could get to him.

Then the giant said that the queen had banished Hermod to a desert

island, and described exactly where it was.

“But you will not be able to reach him unless you cut off your hand,”

said the giant “Then you must cut off your hair and plait it together

and make it into sandals, and with these you will be able to cross both

sea and land.”

Hadvör at once carried out the giant’s instructions. She cut off her

beautiful long golden hair, and plaiting it together, made herself a

pair of sandals. Then, thinking only of Harmod, bravely held out her

hand for the giant to cut off, and declared she was ready to go.

The giant said he would help her, that she must climb upon his shoulder

and touch the roof with the hand he had cut off, when the top of the

grave would open. So she followed his directions; and no sooner was the

grave open than the giant stretched up his hand and caught hold of her

cloak, to pull her back. But with one spring Hadvör was outside the

grave, the cloak slipped from her shoulders, remaining in the giant’s

hands; and, without waiting to look round, she flew along the road he

had told her of.

She ran on for some time without venturing to stop or look round, until

at length she reached the seashore. There, far far away in the

distance, she saw a high rocky island. Her sandals, however, enabled

her to cross the water easily; but when she reached the island the

shore was so steep and rocky, she could find no way of getting into the

interior. This was a terrible disappointment and tired and weary with

all she had gone through, Hadvör sat down on a fallen piece of rock,

and presently fell asleep. Then she dreamt that a big giantess came up

to her and said, “I know that you are Hadvör, the king’s daughter, and

that you are in search of Hermod. He is on this island; but you will

not find it easy to reach him, if left to yourself, for the cliffs are

steep and dangerous, and, though you are brave and ready to face any

danger for him, you will not be able to climb them. But I will help

you. Go round the corner of the next cliff, and there you will find a

stout rope fastened to the rocks. By its help you will be able to climb

up and get into the island. But it is large and has many caves, and you

might be a long time ere you find Hermod. I have, therefore, brought

you this ball of ribbon; take hold of the loose end, and the ball will

roll along and guide you in the right way. I also give you this girdle;

fasten it round your waist, and as long as you wear it you will suffer

neither hunger nor fatigue. But remember to keep silence while Hermod

is still under the spell, and on no account must you speak until after

you have burnt the lion’s skin.”

When Hadvör awoke, feeling quite strong and refreshed, she thought she

had only had a very pleasant dream; but, looking round, she saw a ball

of gaily coloured ribbon and a beautiful silken girdle lying beside

her. Putting the girdle round her waist, she tucked the ball inside of

it, and, going round the next cliff, she saw a stout rope hanging down.

Then she knew that her dream was no ordinary one. She took hold of the

rope, and began climbing the almost perpendicular rock. But it was a

long and difficult task, for the rocks were high and steep, and the

loss of her hand greatly impeded her progress. But whenever she lost

heart, she thought of Hermod, and the knowledge that she was at last

near him gave her fresh strength, till at length she reached the top.

She then placed the ball on the ground and followed its lead, till it

stopped at the entrance to a cave.

Cautiously Hadvör peeped in, but she saw nothing except a miserable

wooden pallet, so she crept under this and hid herself.

The hours seemed very long, as she lay there listening for every sound

that might announce Hermod’s approach; then, just as the sun was

setting, sending a bright crimson gleam into the cave, she heard a loud

roar, accompanied by heavy footsteps, and presently a huge lion entered

the cave.

Hadvör’s heart leapt into her mouth, but she remembered that she must

be silent if she wished to save him.

The lion then went towards the hearth, and giving himself a vigorous

shake, the lion’s skin fell off, and Hadvör saw that it was indeed

Hermod.

He sat down on the bed (little thinking that Hadvör was hid

underneath), and began talking aloud of his love for Hadvör, and his

great grief at their separation, and his utter inability to help

himself. “For, alas!” he concluded, “it is only by Hadvör’s finding and

burning my lion’s skin that I can ever get back my human figure and

power; and how is it possible she should ever find me here?”

Hadvör, when she heard these words, almost jumped out from beneath the

bed, but she remembered in time that she must not speak until she had

burnt the lion’s skin. So, with a strong effort of her will, she kept

perfectly still and silent till Hermod threw himself down on the bed.

As soon as she heard that he was fast asleep, she crept forth quietly,

and, taking an armful of wood and a lighted brand from the hearth, she

made up a big fire outside the cave, and burnt the lion’s skin Hermod

had thrown off. She then returned to the cave and wakened Hermod. What

a glad and joyful meeting that was!

Hadvör told Hermod all that had occurred after his disappearance, and

how, by Olöf’s help, she had been enabled to find him.

“Oh, Hadvör,” cried Hermod, “to think of all you have done and suffered

for my sake! And, alas, that you should have lost your right hand! How

can I ever make up to you for all you have done?” And gently taking the

maimed arm, he pressed his lips to the wrist, when lo, and behold, the

hand was restored, and not even a mark was visible to show where it had

been severed!

Then they began planning how best to return home, and Hadvör told

Hermod of her wonderful dream and the gifts she had already received

from the giantess. “Surely,” she added, “she must live somewhere on

this island, and might help us again.”

Hermod said he believed a giantess did live on the island, and that she

was called Allgood, but he had never seen her, though she was supposed

to watch over people and help them. So they determined to try and find

her, and they sallied forth. After a long search, they came to a huge

cavern, inside of which sat the great giantess, surrounded by her

fifteen children! Then Hermod asked her if she would help them to

return to their home, telling her how they had been driven forth.

“It will not be easy,” replied Allgood, “because the giant who was

buried with Hadvör will try and throw all kinds of obstacles in your

way. He has been changed into a huge whale, and swims all round this

island, and he will certainly try all he can to kill Hadvör ere she

reaches her own country. But I will lend you my ship, for though

Hadvör’s sandals would carry you across the water, they will not

protect you from the giant. He may not know that you are in my ship;

but if you see him swimming towards you, I fear your life may be in

danger. Then call on me, and I will help you.”

Hermod and Hadvör thanked the giantess warmly for her good advice and

kind offer of help, and getting on board her ship, where they found

food and everything they wanted, they left the island, happy and

hopeful. But ere long they saw a huge whale swimming rapidly towards

them. He spouted the water up, yards high, and lashed the sea with his

tail as he came near the ship.

“Oh, Hermod,” cried Hadvör, “that surely must be the wicked giant! Let

us call on Allgood to help us!” And they both called loudly on the

giantess for aid.

Immediately a still bigger whale than the first one appeared, followed

by fifteen smaller ones. They swam swiftly towards the ship, and when

they had completely surrounded it, they turned on the first whale. Then

a terrific battle began. The water shot almost up to the clouds, the

sea was lashed into such great waves, that it seemed as if the vessel

must be swamped, and Hermod and Hadvör watched eagerly for the result.

The fight lasted for some time; but when at length it was over, they

saw that the sea for some distance was red with the blood of the dead

whale. And then the big whale, followed by the fifteen smaller ones,

swam back to the island, and Hermod and Hadvör reached their own land

in safety.

Meanwhile, strange events had happened at the king’s castle. The queen

and her daughter had disappeared, and in their apartments a big rat and

a mouse fought all day and night. In vain the servants tried to drive

them away. Even if they ran off for a short time, they always came back

again and disturbed the whole castle by their cries. Thus some time

passed, and the king was once again plunged into grief, not only at the

disappearance of the queen, but because these horrid animals left

neither him nor his court any peace.

One evening, when they were all assembled in the great hall, very sad

and silent, quick steps were heard approaching, and, to the surprise of

every one, Hermod entered. As soon as the king saw him, he embraced him

warmly, greeting him like one returned from the dead, and anxiously

inquiring all that had happened to him. But before sitting down, Hermod

said he must first go to the queen’s apartment. There the rat and mouse

were fighting and biting one another, uttering frightful cries; but,

drawing his sword, Hermod smote them both, when, to the amazement of

all, there lay two hideous giantesses dead on the ground. The servants

quickly carried them out into the great courtyard, where they were

thrown on a pile of wood and burnt.

Meanwhile, the king and Hermod, accompanied by the whole court,

returned to the hall, and then Hermod related all his wonderful

adventures, greatly to the delight and amazement of the king and his

courtiers. And, while they were exclaiming at the wonders of his tale,

Hadvör came in, accompanied by Olöf.

Then, indeed, there was general rejoicing, and the king at once acceded

to Hermod’s wish to become his son-in-law. There was no long delay over

the wedding, and as the king was now growing old, he handed over the

government of the country to Hermod, whose reign is still known as that

of “the good king.”

Hadvör, in the midst of her own happiness, did not forget Olöf and all

the good services she had rendered her. She married one of the great

nobles of the kingdom, who became King Hermod’s right hand, and Hadvör

and Olöf remained close friends all the days of their life, their

friendship descending to their children and grandchildren.