The Life and Death of Cormac the Skald Part 7

"Nay," said she, "I think little of that. It seems to me a great trouble, and I doubt if folk will reckon more of us for it."

"It means that I should have a sure friend," answered he. "I have many foes, and I am growing heavy with age."

So he went to see Olaf, and asked for a child to foster. Olaf took it with thanks, and Bersi carried Halldor home with him and got Steinvor to be nurse. This too misliked Thordis, and she laid hands on every penny she could get (for fear it should go to Steinvor and the foster-child).

At last Bersi took to ageing much. There was one time when men riding to the Thing stayed at his house. He sat all by himself, and his food was brought him before the rest were served. He had porridge while other folk had cheese and curds. Then he made this verse:--

(46) "To batten the black-feathered wound-bird With the blade of my axe have I stricken Full thirty and five of my foemen; I am famed for the slaughter of warriors.

May the fiends have my soul if I stain not My sharp-edged falchion once over!

And then let the breaker of broadswords Be borne--and with speed--to the grave!"

"What?" said Halldor; "hast thou a mind to kill another man, then?"

Answered Bersi, "I see the man it would rightly serve!"

Now Thordis let her brother Vali feed his herds on the land of Brekka.

Bersi bade his house-carles work at home, and have no dealings with Vali; but still Halldor thought it a hards.h.i.+p that Bersi had not his own will with his own wealth. One day Bersi made this verse:--

(47) "Here we lie, Both on one settle-- Halldor and I, Men of no mettle.

Youth ails thee, But thou'lt win through it; Age ails me, And I must rue it!"

"I do hate Vali," said Halldor; and Bersi answered thus in verse:--

(48) "Yon Vali, so wight as he would be, Well wot I our pasture he grazes; Right fain yonder fierce helmet-wearer Under foot my dead body would trample!

But often my wrongs have I wreaked In wrath on the mail-coated warrior-- On the stems of the sun of the ocean I have stained the wound-serpent for less!"

And again he said:--

(49) "With eld I am listless and lamed-- I, the lord of the gold of the armlet: I sit, and am still under many A slight from the warders of spear-meads.

Though s.h.i.+eld-bearers shape for the singer To s.h.i.+ver alone in the grave-mound, Yet once in the war would I redden The wand that hews helms ere I fail."

"Thy heart is not growing old, foster-father mine!" cried Halldor.

Upon that Bersi fell into talk with Steinvor, and said to her "I am laying a plot, and I need thee to help me."

She said she would if she could.

"Pick a quarrel," said he, "with Thordis about the milk-kettle, and do thou hold on to it until you whelm it over between you. Then I will come in and take her part and give thee nought but bad words. Then go to Vali and tell him how ill we treat thee."

Everything turned out as he had planned. She went to Vali and told him that things were no way smooth for her; would he take her over the gap (to Bitra to her father's:) and so he did.

But when he was on the way back again, out came Bersi and Halldor to meet him. Bersi had a halberd in one hand and a staff in the other, and Halldor had Whitting. As soon as Vali saw them he turned and hewed at Bersi. Halldor came at his back and fleshed Whitting in his hough-sinews. Thereupon he turned sharply and fell upon Halldor.

Then Bersi set the halberd-point betwixt his shoulders. That was his death-wound.

Then they set his s.h.i.+eld at his feet and his sword at his head, and spread his cloak over him; and after that got on horseback and rode to five homesteads to make known the deed they had done and then rode home.

Men went and buried Vali, and the place where he fell has ever since been called Vali's fall.

Halldor was twelve winters old when these doings came to pa.s.s.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. How Steingerd Was Married Again.

Now there was a man named Thorvald, the son of Eystein, bynamed the Tinker: he was a wealthy man, a smith, and a skald; but he was mean-spirited for all that. His brother Thorvard lived in the north country at Fliot (Fleet); and they had many kinsmen,-- the Skidings they were called,--but little luck or liking.

Now Thorvald the Tinker asked Steingerd to wife. Her folk were for it, and she said nothing against it; and so she was wed to him in the very same summer in which she left Bersi.

When Cormac heard the news he made as though he knew nothing whatever about the matter; for a little earlier he had taken his goods aboard s.h.i.+p, meaning to go away with his brother. But one morning early he rode from the s.h.i.+p and went to see Steingerd; and when he got talk with her, he asked would she make him a s.h.i.+rt. To which she answered that he had no business to pay her visits; neither Thorvald nor his kinsmen would abide it, she said, but have their revenge.

Thereupon he made his voice:--

(50) "Nay, think it or thole it I cannot, That thou, a young fir of the forest Enwreathed in the gold that thou guardest, Shouldst be given to a tinkering tinsmith.

Nay, scarce can I smile, O thou glittering In silk like the G.o.ddess of Baldur, Since thy father handfasted and pledged thee, So famed as thou art, to a coward."

"In such words," answered Steingerd, "an ill will is plain to hear. I shall tell Thorvald of this ribaldry: no man would sit still under such insults."

Then sang Cormac:--

(51) "What gain is to get if he threatens, White G.o.ddess in raiment of beauty, The scorn that the Skidings may bear me?

I'll set them a weft for their weaving!

I'll rhyme you the roystering caitiffs Till rocks go afloat on the water; And lucky for them if they loosen The line of their fate that I ravel!"

Thereupon they parted with no blitheness, and Cormac went to his s.h.i.+p.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. Cormac's Voyage To Norway.

The two brothers had but left the roadstead, when close beside their s.h.i.+p, uprose a walrus. Cormac hurled at it a pole-staff, which struck the beast, so that it sank again: but the men aboard thought that they knew its eyes for the eyes of Thorveig the witch. That walrus came up no more, but of Thorveig it was heard that she lay sick to death; and indeed folk say that this was the end of her.

Then they sailed out to sea, and at last came to Norway, where at that time Hakon, the foster-son of Athelstan, was king. He made them welcome, and so they stayed there the winter long with all honour.

Next summer they set out to the wars, and did many great deeds. Along with them went a man called Siegfried, a German of good birth; and they made raids both far and wide. One day as they were gone up the country eleven men together came against the two brothers, and set upon them; but this business ended in their overcoming the whole eleven, and so after a while back to their s.h.i.+p. The vikings had given them up for lost, and fain were their folk when they came back with victory and wealth.

In this voyage the brothers got great renown: and late in the summer, when winter was coming on, they made up their minds to steer for Norway.

They met with cold winds; the sail was behung with icicles, but the brothers were always to the fore. It was on his voyage that Cormac made the song:--

(52) "O shake me yon rime from the awning; Your singer's a-cold in his berth; For the hills are all hooded, dear Skardi, In the h.o.a.ry white veil of the firth.

There's one they call Wielder of Thunder I would were as chill and as cold; But he leaves not the side of his lady As the lindworm forsakes not its gold."

"Always talking of her now!" said Thorgils; "and yet thou wouldst not have her when thou couldst."

"That was more the fault of witchcraft," answered Cormac, "that any want of faith in me."

Not long after they were sailing hard among crags, and shortened sail in great danger.

"It is a pity Thorvald Tinker is not with us here!" said Cormac.