My fist slams down upon the table. "What do you take me for?" A roar of drunken laughter from swordsmen nearby covers my raised voice, and I am thankful for it. Returning to a softer tone - with no less edge to it - I continue:

"You expect me to turn my own brother over to you, Amelung? Would you have me reopen the wounds of the Sons of Wate? Earendil and Thetmar lie in their graves, and I will not let you make the sword of their brother Weland come between their houses again!" I take a deep draught of ale to smite the fire in my throat; I am always calmer when the horn is empty. "I do not believe that you have come to take back Ydalir for the Scyldings, Thidrek," I speak gently, and with a clearer head. "And...I know only too well what it means to travel bootless across inhospitable, unspeakably violent lands with a company of quarrelsome soldiers, on the brink of sedition. And that is why it is in the best interest of peace that an Amelung lead the Waetling fyrd. You see...

"The Rhinegold is a great treasure of our fathers' making. Your father Thetmar was a ward of Wate and raised as a brother to my father Earendil and his brother Weland. All three men were fine smiths, though Weland was the greatest of them. Earendil was better known for his archery and Thetmar for his swordsmanship. On one cursed evening, Old One-Eye had Wate murdered for his possession of brew called Kvasir's Blood, an exquisite Mead of Enlightenment, and the Scyldings appropriated Ydalir. In the following years, the three brothers took refuge from the wrath of Woden and the Scyldings in the Wolfdales, a place of solace in Nibelheim. The Sons of Wate then plotted their revenge. It was during this time they began crafting the most wondrous of armour, weapons and ornaments, in gold and silver. The hoard included a ring called Andvarinaut, a cloak of invisibility called Tarnkappe and a magical sword called Balmung.

"The brothers were all to return as kings and take Ydalir back from the Scyldings. But the three brothers were distracted and soon fell in love with three beautiful Waelcyrge - swan-maidens - servants of Woden. Thetmar's bride "The White Swan" revealed to him his true parentage, that his father was the progenitor of the Scylding house, the new thegns of Ydalir. Thetmar could certainly not be expected to challenge his own kin, so he and Svanhvit fled the Wolfdales. The Skanian king Nidoth captured Weland, and the treacherous Volsung thegn called Fafnir stole the great Waetling treasure.

"Earendil escaped danger, however, returning to Ydalir and taking back his throne with the help of the Gram-wielder, Sigurd, son of Sigmund the Volsung. To return the favor, Earendil gave Sigurd an army against his uncle Fafnir, lately transformed into a dragon. What Earendil did not realize was that Fafnir had been in possession of the Waetling treasure, which was now being called the Treasure of the Nibelungs. When Fafnir was slain, Sigurd took the great hoard, including Balmung, the Tarnkappe and Andvarinaut. Moreover, the lad had drunk of his uncle's dragon blood, blessing him with a tongue that birds and animals may understand and ears to understand them. He also became immune to the weapons of Man, as though he were armoured in dragon scales.

"Somehow, a vassal of a thegn called Gunnar had a quarrel with Sigurd and was believed to have slain him...though there was never evidence of Sigurd's death. But this vassal, one Hagen by name, managed to take the Nibelung Hoard from Sigurd and hide it somewhere in the depths of the Rhine. ...That is, of course, according to legend." I cannot tell from Thidrek's expression if this is a tale he has ever heard before.

"Thidrek," I offer my hand, "As Cempa of the Waetling fyrd, you will be clothed in the finest of mail, armour and ermine. Every town you pass will give you and your men the most luxurious of treatment, for your purse will be well satisfied ere you depart. You are Amelung and Scylding, yes, but you are also Waetling and Nibelung, by virtue of kinship with your father's guardian. What you seek will heal the rift between our families. The fyrd must not know your true identity until you return in glory. At that time, you will be regarded as a brother and called Drihten over whatever land you set your sight upon.

"You have come for revenge, continuing to be blinded by Woden's ruse. I offer you peace and glory." My hand remains extended to Thidrek. "How will it be, then, cousin?"