Braedthurnir Tolfsaga - The Tale of the Twelve Brothers

[LEOWRAC'S YOUNGER SONS]

Then there were two brothers, twins in birth and growth.

The life-giver gave them looks so alike that their mother,

Rhiannwaen of the swan's-neck, would pick them out,

Separate the boy-lambs as they grew to manhood.

But, though to glances they gave the same face,

In character the bright sun and cold moons,

Were summoned and shared the same sky.

If this was so, then Bran would be the sun-child,

Bright and bonny, this bairn was beloved of all.

In the star-dark would thus rise Haell, like Juraidh,

Swimming in the night-soak. Stubborn he was

And prone to pride, envying his twin's very presence.

The brothers both grew up, becoming in their time men,

Each strong in arm, skilled with blade and shaft,

They stood like the king who sired them. Still,

As when they were children together they strove,

Against each other. Each tried to get the better of the other,

And even Leowrac could not say which was the strongest.

And so to test their mettle, as a smith swings a sword,

They did agree to match themselves both in a contest.

And so it turned out. Like the river's flooding was Bran,

Set against Haell, the mountain's spine. They were clad,

Chin to waist, in fine forged mesh, shirts of iron.

Each held both a round hand-helm of hardened wood,

And gird a gold-hilted coil-blade around their shoulders.

In this manner the twain set out, matching their speed,

Shoulder to shoulder with their father's other son.

The first challenge that they met was a sheer wall of rock,

Unbreachable, men were forced to walk around its base.

Save for this mighty pair, who made a passage upwards.

A rift in the rock became refuge for hands and feet,

Pulling and pushing, from the valley-floor they pressed.

As a lightning bolt lances from the lofty clouds above,

So this crack did cleave a path down the crag. The cliff,

Sheer as a sword, spanned fifty times or more in height,

The size of the greatest of giants. But, grabbing with hands,

So did sturdy Haell strive to reach the summit. Shortly,

He stood atop the cliff, with Bran but a few spans behind.

As they turned and ran again, they came upon a tranquil tarn.

Deep and long it was, but dismayed the brothers were not.

In they plunged, the water high above their grey iron collars.

Swiftly they swam, the surface of the mere giving no respite.

And so against high water, fell currents, and the watching,

Stalking sea-beasts were the brothers now set. Swords,

Those bright makers of men, were unleashed. They lashed out,

Like the tongues of the serpents who sought to gouge,

And savour their flesh. Their strength prevailed. Unscathed,

Though past wrathful creatures and strong waves they came.

Bone-weary, the pair continued, setting their legs running.

They spanned the ground back to their home with their feet,

The last part of the journey was hardest. And throughout,

Up rock and thought water, Haell had greater speed,

And thus was further ahead at the lakes edge. But in the run,

Where a man's legs feel like lead, and his lungs burn,

Like the hottest forge of the sword-smith, labouring on,

His bright patterned iron blade being made. In this,

None could outmatch Bran. He ran the fastest he could,

And he and his brother each reached their home together,

Not a hair's breadth between them. So, brother and brother,

They ran again. And each rounded the circuit four more times.

Beyond a normal man's kenning was their pain by the end,

And still no distance separated the last stride of Haell,

And the final footstep of Bran. Darkness had fallen, so,

their father, blade-giver of men, bade the brothers cease.

He then spoke to them, the wise words of a king were heard.

"Thy and thine brother both make me thank Culuaie,

your strength is beyond measure, and makes me proud.

You, Haell, have the power of ten, wielded truly.

My son Bran, your speed rivals the very winds of this land.

And so, you must realise each other's strengths, and be glad.

I will not have you fighting against each other any more."

So he spoke. And the brothers were sorrowful for their feud,

And forever on did be friends. In many things however,

The pair did still vie with each other, seeking advantage,

But now there was no anger in them with his brother.

Lastly came Kell, the elders' most favoured child.

He was but a wean still, when his brothers were men,

Of high bearing and worthy. As he grew they looked down,

And cared for their infant kin, who learned much in their care.

Soon he was too a man, bringing the land's ring giver joy,

And he was gladdened by his youngest son as he grew.

In manhood, Kell possessed not the incredible powers,

None of the great boons of any of his brothers. But,

Instead he became the balance of them all. Bjarn the bear,

And stout Haell were stronger than their youngest brother,

But no other. His wisdom was the match of them all,

After the mind-powers of Rissa and Narin were told.

Only Culain and Bran were swifter; in determination,

Only Thord and Norgan stood more firm; none of them,

Bar Njall and Hogarl were stronger of will; and Jannii,

The quick-witted, was faster in thought. Thus was Kell,

Leowrac's youngest son, the weakest of the brothers,

And also the strongest of all the heirs of Banahgar.

The best at naught, but more than able at most.