The ninth Norse Myth of ten, brings us to the death of Baldur, one of the most famous laments of Viking legend... The Death of Baldur. To Odin and Frigga were born twin sons as dissimilar in character and physical appearance as it was possible for two children to be. Hodur, god of darkness, was sombre, taciturn, and blind, like the obscurity of sin, which he was supposed to symbolise, while his brother Baldur, the beautiful, was worshipped as the pure and radiant god of innocence and light. From his snowy brow and golden locks seemed to radiate beams of sunshine which gladdened the hearts of gods and men, by whom he was equally beloved. Each life that he touched glowed with goodness, and he was loved by all who knew him. Baldur tended to his twin brother Hodur with every kindness and consideration. Hodur worshipped Baldur, and would do nothing in his power to harm him. The youthful Baldur attained his full growth with marvellous rapidity, and was early admitted to the council of the gods. He took up his abode in the palace of Breidablik, whose silver roof rested upon golden pillars, and whose purity was such that nothing common or unclean was ever allowed within its precincts, and here he lived in perfect unity with his young wife Nanna (blossom), the daughter of Nip (bud), a beautiful and charming goddess. The god of light was well versed in the science of runes, which were carved on his tongue; he knew the various virtues of simples, one of which, the camomile, was called “Baldur’s brow,” because its flower was as immaculately pure as his forehead. The only thing hidden from Baldur’s radiant eyes was the perception of his own ultimate fate. There came a morning when Baldur woke with the dawn, his face tightened with fear and foresight. He had dreamed of his own death and he lay there petrified, aware, somehow, that the strength of this dream forecasted sinister things to come. So Baldur travelled to see Odin, who listened carefully, and knew at once that the fears of his son were justified – for in his shining eyes there was no longer simply innocence; there was knowledge as well. Odin went at once to his throne at the top of Yggdrasill, and he prayed there for a vision to come to him. At once he saw the head of Vala the Seer come to him, and he knew he must travel to Hel’s kingdom, to visit Vala’s grave. Only then would he learn the truth of his favourite son’s fate. It was many long days before Odin reached the innermost graves on Hel’s estate. He moved quietly so that Hel would not know of his coming, and he was disregarded by most of the workers in her lands, for they were intent on some celebrations, and were preparing the hall for the arrival of an esteemed guest. At last the mound of Vala’s grave appeared, and he sat there on it, keeping his head low so that the prophetess would not catch a glimpse of his face. Vala was a seer of all things future, and all things past; there was nothing that escaped her bright eyes, and she could be called upon only by the magic of the runes to tell of her knowledge. The grave was wreathed in shadows, and a mist hung uneasily over the tombstone. There was silence as Odin whispered to Vala to come forth, and then, at once, there was a grating and steaming that poured forth an odour that caused even the all-powerful Odin to gag and spit. ‘Who disturbs me from my sleep,’ said Vala with venom. Odin thought carefully before replying. He did not wish her to know that he was Odin, king of gods and men, for she may not wish to tell him of a future that would touch on his own. And so he responded: ‘I am Vegtam, son of Valtam, and I wish to learn of the fate of Baldur.’ ‘Baldur’s brother will slay him,’ said Vala, and with that she withdrew into her grave. Odin leapt up and cried out, ‘With the power of the runes, you must tell me more. Tell me, Vala, which esteemed guest does Hel prepare for?’ ‘Baldur,’ she muttered from the depths of her grave, ‘and I will say no more.’ Odin shook his head with concern. He could not see how it could be possible that Baldur’s brother would take his life; Baldur and Hodur were the closest of brothers, and shared the same thoughts and indeed speech for much of the time. He returned to Asgard with his concerns still intact, and he discussed them there with Frigga, who listened carefully. ‘I have a plan,’ she announced, ‘and I am certain you will agree that this is the best course of action for us all. I plan to travel through all nine lands, and I will seek the pledge of every living creature, every plant, every metal and stone, not to harm Baldur.’ And Frigga was as good as her word, for on the morrow she set out and travelled far and wide, everywhere she went extracting with ease the promise of every living creature, and inanimate object, to love Baldur, and to see that he was not injured in any way. And so it was that Baldur was immune to injury of any kind, and it became a game ...
