Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.11.2016, Blaðsíða 62

It’s purely coincidence that “fræk-
na,” the Icelandic word for “val-
iant,” looks a bit like the English
word for “freak,” but this saga is
chock full of some freaky moth-
erfuckers. Sigurgarður himself is
normal bordering on boring but
his BFF is a literal ass-mutant. Not
a literal-ass mutant, like actually
someone with a mutant ass that
he uses for the forces of good. We’ll
go into details when we get there.
Armed to the teeth
Of course there is some king, he
has some son named Sigurgarður,
who is hot and smart and strong
and all that shit. He is raised by this
foster family who have two sons,
Högni and Sigmundur (who also
fit the ideal of medieval Ken-doll-
ness), but the king’s dudes don’t
like them because they’re always
winning the reindeer games or
whatever rich people did back then.
The king’s advisor tries to have
one of them killed. In the impend-
ing scuffle, Högni literally rips the
advisor’s arm off his body and hits
him in the face so hard with his
own arm that his skull cracks and
he dies. Sigurgarður sends his
foster-bros into the forest before
the king arrives and can take ven-
geance on them. He mad, but what-
evs. Sigurgarður grows up to be a
well-respected womanizer.
From limp dick...
Enter Ingigerður, a woman who
will not be –ized. When her father
mysteriously dies, Ingigerður less-
than-politely tells her stepmother
to fuck right the fuck off. Hlégerður
does so, but only after placing the
weirdest curse ever on the prin-
cess: her sisters will be turned into
farm animals and Ingigerður her-
self will treat everyone hella shitty
until Hlégerður’s evil spirit egg is
smashed up the princess’s nose.
Then Hlégerður, her brothers,
and the two younger princesses
disappear. Ingigerður declares her-
self king and takes the male name
Ingi, rising to power quickly as a
warlord. She has every man who
proposes to her killed and ties their
heads to the fence. Eventually, Sig-
urgarður comes along to try to se-
duce her and she’s like, “Ummm,
did you not see my collection of
man-corpses?” Like most men, he
is undaunted and persistent.
She agrees to marry him but
only if he gives her his fancy
golden flag. He agrees, but she
gets him so drunk that he passes
out before they get freaky in the
bedroom. She acts all blue-balled
(or whatever parts of ladies turn
blue when they don’t get properly
laid) the next morning and offers
him a second chance in exchange
for his sword. He agrees, but she
tricks him yet again, also telling
her entire court that he can’t get
it up. The third time, she takes his
awesome dragon-ship but he stays
sober to outwit her. So she orders
him killed, but he picks up one of
the assassins by his feet and uses
him as a weapon to bludgeon the
others and escapes.
... To hard ass
Sigurgarður returns disguised as a
merchant of magical items, trying
to trade a magic carpet in exchange
for Ingi’s hand in marriage. She
pushes him off the carpet, takes
it, and says something like, “Nice
try, whisky dick. Bring me some-
thing cooler next time.” He asks his
foster-parents for advice, and they
give him a bag filled with magic
dust and suggest he pick up some
randos to help.
So as he sails along, he enlists
the help of a hunchback named
Hörður Hard-Ass who uses his
rock-hard booty as a combina-
tion shield and wrecking ball, as
well as a dude named Stígandi
who can walk on water and use a
sickle like a grappling hook. To-
gether they take on an infamous
raider named Knútur and his ship
captain, literally named Shit-Face
because his nose is black. Sigur-
garður fakes his own death and
steals Knútur’s identity before the
three of them take up lodging in
Ingi’s castle as retainers.
Egged on (her face)
Ingi gives each of them a task in
exchange for her few months of
hospitality (which included several
murder attempts that were quickly
foiled by ass or sickle). Stígandi
must gather her pigs and bring
them back, Hörður her horses,
and “Knútur” her oxen, with one of
their horns filled with gold, as well
as her special eggs. So they set off
to find them. After another couple
of murder attempts, including one
by a werewolf, they see Hlégerður.
Knútur nicks her witchy ass just as
she turns into a crow and flies off.
They follow her blood-trail to
find a baby horse getting the shit
kicked out of it by other horses and
leave Hörður to deal with it. They
keep following and also find a pig
being literally suckled to death by
piglets and Stígandi stays to sort it
out. Knútur journeys on to find the
egg and the ox, take its horn, kill a
giant, the crow, and a dragon, and
then fill the ox horn with gold. He
returns to find Hörður butt-deep
in battle with one of Hlégerður’s
brothers and a troll-army and saves
his ass. Then he does the same for
Stígandi with the other brother.
They use the magic dust from the
bag to calm all the animals and
heard them home.
The three of them jump Ingi,
ass-to-sword, sickle-to-shield, and
then Knútur smashes the egg in
her face, breaking the curse. The
mother pig and baby horse turn
back into princesses and Hörður
and Stígandi are revealed to be
the foster-brothers Högni and
Sigmundur. Then everyone gets
married and Ingigerður tells all the
court that Sigurgarður can actually
get it up after all.
Morals of the story: 1. I like big butt
(jokes) and I cannot lie. 2. Decorate
your home with the corpses of men
who’ve wronged you.
SHARE:
gpv.is/sag17
The Saga of Sigur-
garður the Valiant
Words
GRAYSON
DEL FARO
Photo
TIMOTHÉE
LAMBRECQ
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 17 — 2016
62
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