Braedthurnir Tolfsaga - The Tale of the Twelve Brothers

[BANAHGAR IS THREATENED]

The seasons turned around the year, as they will.

The tree-blades grew, then fell, lying deep on the ground.

Though the king in his hall of timber and stone,

Cunningly built, knew it not, his doom was close.

In the wild lands northwards, an ancient foe,

Cruel and cunning, crept ever closer. The evil ones,

Dwelling in dark places, were gathering in hate,

Envious of men, their bawdy halls and bright gold.

So the Vargs, as men of times gone by called them,

Began to become more in number and bolder,

Stealing southwards at night, to slay and snatch,

Blighting all the land with their wickedness.

They carried with them the wrath of the ancestors,

Rising from damp and wretched burrows under soil.

Since the early days of the land had they dwelt here,

Scorning the sun's warming stare. Stooping low,

They had been put together in the shape of men.

Bent and bowed, all the badness of the land,

Was in the Vargs made flesh. Fearing men,

And the cleansing bite of their bright blades,

For many ages they hid away. But now they bred.

And thus they grew bold, beginning their raids,

And they brought the crows of grief with them.

And so Leowrac-king, brave and bright-minded,

Grew wrathful, as word of the woeful night-raids,

And the keening sounds of sorrow sought his ears.

In anger he rose from his gilded seat in Rekke-hoell,

And sent word for his sons to be summoned to council.

And to those twelve men thus he spoke, torn with rage:

"A terrible destiny approaches our land, creeping closer.

These Vargs are allowed to cause us harm. Vexed I am,

And stricken with sadness. How can a king, such as I,

Watch while his people suffer wickedness and death?"

Thus he spoke, looking to his sons in sorrow. Next,

Stout-hearted Bjarn stood, chain-mail bright as a stream.

"My noble father speaks naught but truth. Never before,

not in the long dark ages, before light and life shone forth,

has such an enemy assailed the land. So, my honoured brothers,

it is now our fate to face this threat. And if we fail in this,

and are turned elsewhere in the ancestors protection,

then we can only hope that there are others in the land,

who can stand in defence, daring their lives as we did."

And he sat down, most mighty in life of any man.

Then stood Narin, straight as the sword held at his side.

"So speaks my brother, brave and bold he truly is,

Fearing not pain of death. But, should our fate be set,

should we be doomed to die, as defending our land we fall,

giving up what Culuaie gave, the crows glutting on our flesh.

Should this destiny be inscribed in the stones of the fells,

Then what other men will take our places? Tell me who,

Should we prove the weaker, wields a blade better,

Or casts a spear with more strength in the sword-meet?

Better would be to bolster the defences, building walls,

And digging trenches. Thus we could bar the vargs from the land.

Behind walls we could wait, and thus without wasted lives,

We could keep the people safe. Walking this path is best,

As it is the road of wisdom, true and balanced."

So saying, the cold-counsellor, eldest of the brothers,

Sat once more, assured of his knowledge and power.

But as he took his seat, up jumped the younger brother. Kell,

Favoured by the ancestors spoke with passion in this way:

"Brash though Bjarn may be, and battle-eager in his way,

his words are not unwise. This threat will not be turned away,

or overcome by withdrawing behind walls, deaf to the world,

as a snail retreats into its shell. Force must be met with force,

blades that will not fail and full hearts, of courage overflowing.

That sword, of the river's steel, must be unsheathed once more,

My father, and wielded as only you can. Thus the wise ones,

The ancient ancestors may allow us victory, and thus save the land."

So spoke Leowrac's youngest son, brave and bold, fearing naught,

In the early years of his long life. And so Leowrac took his leave,

Making his way from the great hall. Many hours did he spend,

Considering his favourite sons council. Carefully then did he plan,

Deciding on the best course of action, his mind in deep turmoil.

Finally, the watch-fires burned low, his first son's advice,

The path Narin would walk, did seem the wisest course.