Sometimes mother really does know better than father.
It is with this premise that I present to you a story.
This is a direct lift from the book “The Children of Odin: the Book of Northern Myths”, which was published in the early 20th century with the aim of making Norse tales more accessible to people. It is in the public domain, and I recommend that any aspiring Heathen read it; some of the tales are more dubious than others in terms of attestation, but the stories are overall well chosen and largely reflect the nobler ideals of our heathen ancestors.
The tale is given in the book as “Odin faces an Evil Man” and deals with Odin and Frigga during one of their journeys to Midgard.
ONCE, when his wisdom was less great, Odin had lived in the world of men. Frigga, his Queen, was with him then; they had lived on a bleak island, and they were known as Grimner the Fisherman and his wife.
Always Odin and Frigga were watching over the sons of men, watching to know which ones they would foster and train so that they might have the strength and spirit to save the world from the power of the Giants. And while they were staying on the bleak island, Odin and Frigga saw the sons of King Hrauding, and both thought that in them the spirit of heroes could be fostered. Odin and Frigga made plans to bring the children to them, so that they might be under their care and training. One day theboys went fishing. A storm came and drove their boat on the rocks of the island where Odin and Frigga lived.
They brought them to their hut, Odin and Frigga, and they told them they would care for them and train them through the winter and that in the spring they would build a boat that would carry them back to their father’s country. “We shall see,” said Odin to Frigga that night, “we shall see which of the two can be formed into the noblest hero.”
He said that because Frigga favored one of the boys and he favored the other. Frigga thought well of the elder boy, Agnar, who had a gentle voice and quiet and kindly ways. But Odin thought more of the younger boy. Geirrod, his name was, and he was strong and passionate, with a high and a loud voice.
Odin took Geirrod into his charge, and he showed him how to fish and hunt. He made the boy even bolder than he was by making him leap from rock to rock, and by letting him climb the highest cliffs and jump across the widest chasms. He would bring him to the den of the bear and make him fight for his life with the spear he had made for him. Agnar went to the chase, too, and showed his skill and boldness. But Geirrod overcame him in nearly every trial. “What a hero Geirrod will be,” Odin would often say.
Agnar stayed often with Frigga. He would stay beside her while she spun, listening to the tales she told, and asking such questions as brought him more and more wisdom. And Agnar heard of Asgard and of the Dwellers in
Asgard and of how they protected Midgard, the World of Men, from the Giants of Jötunheim. Agnar, though he did not speak out, said in his own mind that he would give all his life and all his strength and all his thought to helping the work of the Gods.
Spring came and Odin built a boat for Geirrod and Agnar. They could go back now to their own country. And before they set out Odin told Geirrod that one day he would come to visit him. “And do not be too proud to receive a Fisherman in your hall, Geirrod,” said Odin. “A King should give welcome to the poorest who comes to his hall.”
“I will be a hero, no doubt of that,” Geirrod answered. “And I would be a King, too, only Agnar Little-good was born before me.”
Agnar bade goodby to Frigga and to Odin, thanking them for the care they had taken of Geirrod and himself. He looked into Frigga’s eyes, and he told her that he would strive to learn how he might fight the battle for the Gods.
The two went into the boat and they rowed away. They came near to King Hrauding’s realm. They saw the castle overlooking the sea. Then Geirrod did a terrible thing. He turned the boat back toward the sea, and he cast the oars away. Then, for he was well fit to swim the roughest sea and climb the highest cliffs, he plunged into the water and struck out toward the shore. And Agnar, left without oars, went drifting out to sea.
Geirrod climbed the high cliffs and came to his father’s castle.
King Hrauding, who had given up both of his sons for lost, was rejoiced to see him. Geirrod told of Agnar that he had fallen out of the boat on their way back and that he had been drowned. King Hrauding, who had thought both of his sons were gone from him, was glad enough that one had come safe. He put Geirrod beside him on the throne, and when he died Geirrod was made King over the people.
And now Odin, having drunk from Mimir’s Well, went through the kingdoms of men, judging Kings and simple people according to the wisdom he had gained. He came at last to the kingdom that Geirrod ruled over. Odin thought that of all the Kings he had judged to be noble, Geirrod would assuredly be the noblest.
He went to the King’s house as a Wanderer, blind of one eye, wearing a cloak of dark blue and with a wanderer’s staff in his hands. As he drew near the King’s house men on dark horses came riding behind him. The first of the men did not turn his horse as he came near the Wanderer, but rode on, nearly trampling him to the ground.
As they came before the King’s house the men on the dark horses shouted for servants. Only one servant was in the stable. He came out and took the horse of the first man. Then the others called upon the Wanderer to tend their horses. He had to hold the stirrups for some of them to dismount.
Odin knew who the first man was. He was Geirrod the King. And he knew who the man who served in the stable was. He was Agnar, Geirrod’s brother. By the wisdom he had gained he knew that Agnar had come back to his father’s kingdom in the guise of a servant, and he knew that Geirrod did not know who this servant was.
They went into the stable together. Agnar took bread and broke it and gave some to the Wanderer. He gave him, too, straw to seat himself on. But in a while Odin said, “I would seat myself at the fire in the King’s hall and eat my supper of meat.”
“Nay, stay here,” Agnar said. “I will give you more bread and a wrap to cover yourself with. Do not go to the door of the King’s house, for the King is angry today and he might repulse you.”
“How?” said Odin. “A King turn away a Wanderer who comes to his door! It cannot be that he would do it!”
“Today he is angry,” Agnar said. Again he begged him not to go to the door of the King’s house. But Odin rose up from the straw on which he was seated and went to the door.
A porter, hunchbacked and with long arms, stood at the door. “I am a Wanderer, and I would have rest and food in the King’s hall,” Odin said.
“Not in this King’s hall,” said the hunchbacked porter. He would have barred the door to Odin, but the voice of the King called him away. Odin then strode into the hall and saw the King at table with his friends, all dark-bearded, and cruel-looking men. And when Odin looked on them he knew that the boy whom he had trained in nobility had become a King over robbers.
“Since you have come into the hall where we eat, sing to us, Wanderer,” shouted one of the dark men. “Aye, Iwill sing to you,” said Odin. Then he stood between two of the stone pillars in the hall and he sang a song reproaching the King for having fallen into an evil way of life, and denouncing all for following the cruel ways of robbers.
“Seize him,” said the King, when Odin’s song was finished. The dark men threw themselves upon Odin and put chains around him and bound him between the stone pillars of the hall. “He came into this hall for warmth, and warmth he shall have,” said Geirrod. He called upon his servants to heap up wood around him. They did this. Then the King, with his own hand, put a blazing torch to the wood and the fagots blazed up around the Wanderer.
The fagots burned round and round him. But the fire did not burn the flesh of Odin All-Father. The King and the King’s friends stood round, watching with delight the fires blaze round a living man. The fagots all burned away, and Odin was left standing there with his terrible gaze fixed upon the men who were so hard and cruel.
They went to sleep, leaving him chained to the pillars of the hall. Odin could have broken the chains and pulled down the pillars, but he wanted to see what else would happen in this King’s house. The servants were ordered not to bring food or drink to him, but at dawn, when there was no one near, Agnar came to him with a horn of ale and gave it to him to drink.
The next evening when the King came back from his robberies, and when he and his friends, sitting down at t the tables, had eaten like wolves, he ordered the fagots to be placed around Odin. And again they stood around, watchingin delight the fire playing around a living man. And as before Odin stood there, unhurt by the fire, and his steady and terrible gaze made the King hate him more and more. And all day he was kept in chains, and the servants were forbidden to bring him food or drink. None knew that a horn of ale was brought to him at dawn.
And night after night, for eight nights, this went on. Then, on the ninth night, when the fires around him had been lighted, Odin lifted up his voice and began to sing a song.
His song became louder and louder, and the King and the King’s friends and the servants of the King’s house had to stand still and harken to it. Odin sang about Geirrod, the King; how the Gods had protected him, giving him strength and skill, and how instead of making a noble use of that strength and skill he had made himself like one of the wild beasts. Then he sang of how the vengeance of the Gods was about to fall on this ignoble King.
The flames died down and Geirrod and his friends saw before them, not a friendless Wanderer, but one who looked more kingly than any King of the earth. The chains fell down from his body and he advanced toward the evil company. Then Geirrod rushed upon him with his sword in hand to kill him. The sword struck him, but Odin remained unhurt.
Thy life runs out,
The Gods they are wroth with thee;
Draw near if thou canst;
Odin thou shalt see.
So Odin sang, and, in fear of his terrible gaze, Geirrod and his company shrank away. And as they shrank away they were changed into beasts, into the wolves that range the forests.
And Agnar came forward, and him Odin declared to be King. All the folk were glad when Agnar came to rule over them, for they had been oppressed by Geirrod in his cruel reign. And Agnar was not only kind, but he was strong and victorious in his rule.
Now I give this tale to preface my argument. Frigga was the wiser of the two deities here. Odin had believed that strength and glory made a good leader, which was doubtless important, yet the Allfather overvalued it. Even Odin had something to learn from his wife, and any husband should know it takes a real pair of brass ones to admit to his wife that he was wrong and that she was right. If you don’t… well… you just haven’t gotten to that part of your life yet. Give it time, gents.
Frigga understood that might must be tempered with mercy. She knew that a strong man with no love or kindness would not hesitate to turn his power to his own vanity. Power tends to corrupt, and without love and mercy to balance that, it will do so without fail. This was as much a lesson for Odin as it was for Agnar. Who knows what would have happened if Odin had not learned this lesson? If he had not seen this himself, he might have fallen into a great pitfall of “I am immortal, therefore I know better” and become just as Geirrod did.
Odin the Wise reveled in stories of glory and victory, but Frigga was always the wiser of the two in matters of the human heart; as a mother herself, it gives her a unique insight into matters which even Odin will never be able to comprehend as effectively. This is why Frigga is the Allmother; she completes Odin’s wisdom with her own, her maternal affection for all things balancing Odin’s paternal sternness and harsher lessons.
Frigga is doubtless in possession of grace in excess of all other divines, and where we find that require mercy’s ear, Frigga is who we need to call to.