Father of the Slain

Between the lines of a saga

Odin preferred to know men after their deaths, when their story had already concluded. Looking at them while they lived only made him think of their fate, often already known to him. Even as Odin walked with Sigi, all he could see was the eventual and inevitable conclusion of Sigi’s story. The air between them was motionless. They walked like ships carried by the current, possessing neither sails nor oars.

“He was mocking me, that look in his eyes as he looked at what I hunted compared to him. He must have cheated in some way. A mere slave outdoing the son of an Aesir, your son, I couldn’t let such an insult stand,” Sigi protested. He briefly shivered as the winter wind flew past like an arrow.

“You were outshone by a slave because he was the better hunter, and in response you murdered him. With a temper like that it is only natural you’d be banished. You returned Skadi’s trust with the murder of his greatest slave.” Odin kept his eye fixed on the horizon. Sigi was confined to a role in a saga yet to be written, of which he was hardly more than a short chapter. Any warnings or attempts to steer Sigi from his fate would be a waste of words.

“And what would Baldr have done?” Sigi asked. Odin masked his shock with a contemplative expression, tugging at his beard a little too hard. Sigi had never met any of his step siblings, and Odin had been tight lipped about the ones who would be impossible for Sigi to meet. But stories of the Aesir were often recited, including some of the worst days of Odin’s life.

“He’d accept that he was outdone and praise Bredi’s skill, then immediately do something stupid to try and one up him. Something that’d get anyone else killed.” For a moment recalling Baldr’s invulnerability fueled antics made Odin want to laugh. Then he remembered Baldr’s death.

“You only seem pleased when you think of Baldr,” Sigi said. He turned his head to face Odin, rather than the horizon.

“And the pain those thoughts bring is greater.” Odin returned Sigi’s look.

“Often, even when you speak to me, it feels as though your true attention is somewhere else. How could I earn it when I must compete with Baldr, yet can’t even best a slave?”

Odin took his time to respond, considering Sigi’s words and their meaning carefully. “It’s not your fault. The weight I bear is greater than what any human king shall know.”

Sigi was silent, and not yet skilled in concealing surprise or finding words. Odin was content to save his voice for later. Their walk continued with only the sound of their footsteps until they reached the coast.

At the coast were warships, and a whole army for them to carry. Sigi reached for his weapon, and Odin stayed his hand. “I’ve assembled them for you to lead. Now go and prove yourself, make war, become a king. Then one day, we’ll meet again in my hall.”

Odin stood like a statue as Sigi approached the army. It wasn’t merely Sigi’s doom that he saw. Sinfjotli drinking poison, Sigurd slain in his own bed by his brother-in-law, Svanhild trampled by horses, Odin knew all the suffering of Sigi’s descendants. It had all been foretold to him by Sigi’s mother, before their child’s birth. Despite that she had treated Sigi as if she didn’t know his future.

Snow began to fall, burying the footprints from Odin and Sigi’s walk together. As Odin turned to depart, he stopped at the sound of Sigi’s voice, who had returned to him.

“Thank you father. You will not regret this generosity, and I will repay it. By the time I arrive in Valhalla you will have heard of my valor from my enemies. They will say that Sigi fought better and lived more gloriously than any other.” With those words Sigi turned away, no longer looking as young as he had before.

There was much that Sigi didn’t know and had yet to do. He would be best known for his petty act of murder and largely passed over by history in favor of his more accomplished descendants. Despite that there had been a contented look on his face, satisfied with his life even as a chapter of it was forcibly concluded.

With a faint smile, the father of the slain went his separate way.

FIN

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Meta Codex

When Talebones announced a flash fiction contest with the prompt of focusing on background characters, I went through a few ideas before settling on this, which is essentially fanfiction of The Saga of the Volsungs.

Although Odin and Sigi represent the earliest generations of this generational saga, neither are main characters. Sigi is dead before the bottom of page two of the Jackson Crawford translation (which I recommend, very accessible translation) with little given in the way of characterization, and while Odin makes (unnamed) appearances later and is referenced by other characters, he can hardly be called a main character.

Odin is a mythological figure I’ve tried to write for a while, my view of him evolving since the first attempts. But it has been quite some time since the last go at it, as I started on this I found myself thrilled that I was writing a story with Odin again. Much like Tezcatlipoca I haven’t been too into how modern fiction tends to use him.

Sigi’s mother having essentially read the saga already is a complete invention of mine, not a single thing is said about her in the actual text, basic biology is the only reason we can infer she exists. But I wanted Odin to be aware of Sigi’s fate, and that knowledge coming from Sigi’s mother felt like it’d work well.

If you haven’t already, I suggest reading The Saga of the Volsungs and then giving this story another read. My intent is for the story to be best enjoyed by those who know the story of the Volsungs.