In the cold, grey mists of the North, there lived the Giukings, a royal line of the Burgundians whose power was matched only by the weight of the treasure they guarded. Gunnar, the king, was a man of iron will and golden speech, the brother of the fierce Hogni and the beautiful Gudrun. Their lives were forever changed by the arrival of Sigurd the Dragon Slayer, who bore the cursed gold of Andvari and the ring that promised both infinite wealth and certain doom. Gunnar and Sigurd became blood-brothers, swearing oaths that should have lasted beyond the grave, yet the shadows of the Niflung gold are long and dark, and the pride of queens is a fire that consumes kingdoms. Gunnar, through the deceptive aid of Sigurd, won the hand of the valkyrie Brynhild, a marriage built upon a lie that eventually led to Sigurd’s murder and Brynhild’s own fiery end on the funeral pyre. These tragedies left Gunnar as the sole guardian of the Rhine gold, a hoard hidden beneath the rushing waters of the river where no mortal eyes could find it.
Years passed, and the widow Gudrun was forced by her brothers into a political marriage with Atli, the mighty and avaricious King of the Huns. Atli, whose seat of power was located in the fertile plains of the Pannonian Basin—at the place known to the Germans as Gran and to the locals as Esztergom—cared little for his new bride’s grief. His heart was consumed by a singular, burning desire: the Niflung treasure. He believed that by inviting Gunnar and Hogni to his court under the guise of friendship and kinship, he could extract the secret of the gold’s location and seize the legendary hoard for himself. Despite the warnings of their wives and the cryptic runes sent by Gudrun, which had been tampered with by Atli’s messenger Vingi, the brothers Gunnar and Hogni decided to make the perilous journey to the land of the Huns. They rode through the dark forest of Myrkviðr, crossing the boundaries of the known world until they reached the high-walled citadel of Atli overlooking the Danube.
Upon their arrival at Gran, the brothers were not met with the hospitality of kin but with the cold steel of an ambush. Vingi’s treachery was revealed as the gates of the hall slammed shut, and the Hunnic warriors descended upon the Burgundians. A great battle erupted in the hall of Atli, a clash of civilizations where the outnumbered Northmen fought with the desperation of wolves. Gunnar and Hogni stood back-to-back, carving a path through the throng of Huns, while Gudrun, seeing the betrayal of her husband, took up a sword to fight alongside her brothers. The floor of the hall was slick with the blood of heroes and villains alike, yet the sheer numbers of Atli’s host eventually wore down the Niflung strength. Gunnar, the king who had once commanded the respect of the Valkyries, was overcome and bound in heavy iron chains. Hogni too was captured, his defiant spirit unbroken even as his captors prepared their tortures.
Atli stood before the bound brothers, his eyes gleaming with the reflected light of his torches. He demanded the location of the Rhine gold, promising them their lives in exchange for the secret. But Gunnar, even in his defeat, was a king of unmatched cunning. He told Atli that he would never reveal the secret so long as his brother Hogni lived, for he feared Hogni’s wrath should the gold be surrendered. In a display of horrific cruelty, Atli ordered the execution of Hogni. The Huns first tried to deceive Gunnar by cutting out the heart of a thrall named Hjalli, but Gunnar saw through the ruse, noting that the heart trembled with fear—something the heart of a Giuking would never do. When the Huns finally brought him the true heart of Hogni, Gunnar laughed aloud, for now the secret was his alone. Hogni had died without uttering a word of betrayal, and now the gold would remain forever buried in the Rhine, lost to the greed of the Hunnic king.
Enraged by this defiance, Atli realized that no amount of physical pain would make Gunnar speak. He ordered a punishment that was intended to be as symbolic as it was painful. Gunnar was taken to a deep, stone-lined pit filled with hundreds of venomous serpents. His hands were bound tightly behind his back, and he was lowered into the writhing mass of scales and fangs. The Huns gathered around the edge of the pit, expecting to hear the screams of a dying man. However, Gudrun, unable to save her brother but unwilling to let him die in silence, managed to have a harp smuggled into the pit or thrown down to him. Though his hands were immobilized by his bonds, Gunnar’s spirit remained unyielding. He lay back among the hissing snakes and, using his toes with the precision of a master musician, he began to pluck the strings of the harp.