The tale of Sigurd, the Völsung, is a tapestry of gold, blood, and divine intervention, yet its climax is a somber tragedy set within the silent halls of the Burgundians. To understand the death of Sigurd, one must first understand the weapon that defined his life: Gram. Originally a gift from the god Odin, who thrust the blade into the tree Barnstokkr, the sword was destined to be wielded only by one of supreme merit. Though broken in a previous generation, it was reforged by the smith Regin for Sigurd, so sharp it could slice through wool floating on a stream and so strong it could cleave an anvil. With Gram, Sigurd slew the dragon Fafnir and tasted the heart’s blood that granted him the speech of birds and wisdom beyond mortal men.
Sigurd’s journey led him to the court of the Burgundian kings—Gunnar, Hogni, and Guttorm. There, he became a brother-in-arms to Gunnar and Hogni, binding their fates together through a sacred oath of blood-brotherhood. He married their sister, Gudrun, and used his strength to help Gunnar win the hand of the formidable valkyrie Brynhild. However, this union was founded on a lie; Sigurd had used his shapeshifting abilities to take Gunnar’s form to pass the trial of fire that Brynhild had set for her suitors. When the truth eventually came to light during a bitter dispute between Gudrun and Brynhild, the valkyrie’s love for Sigurd curdled into a devastating, vengeful rage. She demanded that Sigurd be killed, claiming that her honor could only be restored by the blood of the man who had deceived her.
Gunnar and Hogni were caught in a terrible web. On one hand, Brynhild’s demands were absolute, and her grief threatened to destroy their kingdom. On the other hand, they had sworn oaths of brotherhood with Sigurd, and in the Norse world, to kill a blood-brother was to invite the most terrible of curses. They could not strike the blow themselves without shattering the foundations of their own morality and social standing. Thus, they turned their eyes toward their younger brother, Guttorm. Because Guttorm was too young when the oaths were sworn, he had never participated in the blood-mixing ritual. He was free from the spiritual bonds that tied the elder brothers to Sigurd, yet he was also hesitant to murder a man who had brought such glory to their house.
To overcome Guttorm’s hesitation and his natural fear of the dragon-slayer, Hogni and Gunnar resorted to dark sorcery and psychological manipulation. They prepared a meal for the young man composed of the flesh of wolves and the hearts of serpents, mixed with wine and honey. This concoction was intended to instill in him a predatory ferocity and a temporary madness, stripping away his empathy and replacing it with the cold, unyielding drive of a killer. As the night fell over the royal hall in Roskilde, the brothers fueled Guttorm’s mind with tales of Sigurd’s arrogance and the potential threat he posed to their sovereignty. By the time the moon was high, Guttorm was no longer the boy they knew, but a sharpened tool of vengeance, gripped by a hunger for blood.
While the rest of the household lay in a deep, oblivious sleep, Guttorm crept toward the chamber where Sigurd and Gudrun rested. The hero, whose senses were usually as sharp as his blade, was deep in the sleep of the exhausted. Twice, Guttorm entered the room, and twice he found himself unable to strike. On the first attempt, Sigurd opened his eyes briefly, and the sheer radiance of his gaze—the 'serpent in the eye' characteristic of the Völsung line—was enough to drive the young man back in terror. On the second attempt, a similar aura of majesty emanated from the sleeping hero, causing Guttorm’s resolve to falter once again. He retreated to his brothers, but they goaded him further, reminding him of the meat he had eaten and the promises he had made.
On the third attempt, Guttorm found Sigurd turned away, sleeping soundly. He drew his sword and drove it deep into Sigurd's back, the blade piercing through the hero and into the mattress below. The wound was mortal. Guttorm, terrified by what he had done, turned and fled the room, hoping to escape into the darkness of the hallway. But Sigurd, though his life was pouring out of him, was not a man to die quietly or without justice. He felt the cold steel, and in a final, explosive burst of Völsung strength, he reached out for Gram, which lay always within arm's reach by his bedside.
Sigurd did not have the strength to stand or to give chase, but the legendary sword Gram was an extension of his own will. As Guttorm reached the threshold of the door, Sigurd gathered the last of his vitality and hurled the massive blade. The sword flew through the air with the precision of a spear and the force of a falling mountain. It struck Guttorm squarely in the back. Because the blade was forged with divine power and wielded by the world’s greatest warrior, it did not merely stop the assassin. It passed through him with such velocity and sharpness that it sliced Guttorm clean in half at the waist. His upper body fell forward into the hall, while his lower half remained within the chamber—a grim testament to the power of the dying hero.