The Life and Death of Cormac the Skald [20]
her good-will was of much avail. So Thorvard sought her out, to ask her help against Cormac, and gave her a fee; and she made him ready for the holmgang according to her craft.
Now Cormac told his mother what was forward, and she asked if he thought good would come of it.
"Why not?" said he.
"That will not be enough for thee," said Dalla. "Thorvard will never make bold to fight without witchcraft to help him. I think it wise for thee to see Thordis the spae-wife, for there is going to be foul play in this affair."
"It is little to my mind," said he; and yet went to see Thordis, and asked her help.
"Too late ye have come," said she. "No weapon will bite on him now. And yet I would not refuse thee. Bide here to-night, and seek thy good luck. Anyway, I can manage so that iron bite thee no more than him."
So Cormac stayed there for the night; and, awaking, found that some one was groping round the coverlet at his head. "Who is there?" he asked, but whoever it was made off, and out at the house-door, and Cormac after. And then he saw it was Thordis, and she was going to the place where the fight was to be, carrying a goose under her arm.
He asked what it all meant, and she set down the goose, saying, "Why couldn't ye keep quiet?"
So he lay down again, but held himself awake, for he wanted to know what she would be doing. Three times she came, and every time he tried to find out what she was after. The third time, just as he came out, she had killed two geese and let the blood run into a bowl, and she had taken up the third goose to kill it.
"What means this business, foster-mother?" said he.
"True it will prove, Cormac, that you are a hard one to help," said she. "I was going to break the spell Thorveig laid on thee and Steingerd. Ye could have loved one another been happy if I had killed the third goose and no one seen it."
"I believe nought of such things," cried he; and this song he made about it: --
(67) "I gave her an ore at the ayre, That the arts of my foe should not prosper; And twice she has taken the knife, And twice she has offered the offering; But the blood is the blood of a goose -- What boots it if two should be slaughtered? -- Never sacrifice geese for a Skald Who sings for the glory of Odin!"
So they went to the holmgang: but Thorvald gave the spae-wife a still greater fee, and offered the sacrifice of geese; and Cormac said: --
(68) "Trust never another man's mistress! For I know, on this woman who weareth The fire of the field of the sea-king The fiends have been riding to revel. The witch with her hoarse cry is working For woe when we go to the holmgang, And if bale be the end of the battle The blame, be assured, will be hers."
"Well," she said, "I can manage so that none shall know thee." Then Cormac began to upbraid her, saying she did nought but ill, and wanting to drag her out to the door to look at her eyes in the sunshine. His brother Thorgils made him leave that: -- "What good will it do thee?" said he.
Now Steingerd gave out that she had a mind to see the fight; and so she did. When Cormac saw her he made this song: --
(69) "I have fared to the field of the battle, O fair one that wearest the wimple! And twice for thy sake have I striven; What stays me as now from thy favour? This twice have I gotten thee glory, O goddess of ocean! and surely To my dainty delight, to my darling I am dearer by far than her mate."
So then they set to. Cormac's sword bit not at all, and for a long while they smote strokes one upon the other, but neither sword bit. At last Cormac smote upon Thorvard's side so great a blow that his ribs gave way and were broken; he could fight no more, and thereupon they parted. Cormac looked and saw where a bull was standing, which he slew for a sacrifice; and being heated, he doffed his helmet from his head, saying this song: --
Now Cormac told his mother what was forward, and she asked if he thought good would come of it.
"Why not?" said he.
"That will not be enough for thee," said Dalla. "Thorvard will never make bold to fight without witchcraft to help him. I think it wise for thee to see Thordis the spae-wife, for there is going to be foul play in this affair."
"It is little to my mind," said he; and yet went to see Thordis, and asked her help.
"Too late ye have come," said she. "No weapon will bite on him now. And yet I would not refuse thee. Bide here to-night, and seek thy good luck. Anyway, I can manage so that iron bite thee no more than him."
So Cormac stayed there for the night; and, awaking, found that some one was groping round the coverlet at his head. "Who is there?" he asked, but whoever it was made off, and out at the house-door, and Cormac after. And then he saw it was Thordis, and she was going to the place where the fight was to be, carrying a goose under her arm.
He asked what it all meant, and she set down the goose, saying, "Why couldn't ye keep quiet?"
So he lay down again, but held himself awake, for he wanted to know what she would be doing. Three times she came, and every time he tried to find out what she was after. The third time, just as he came out, she had killed two geese and let the blood run into a bowl, and she had taken up the third goose to kill it.
"What means this business, foster-mother?" said he.
"True it will prove, Cormac, that you are a hard one to help," said she. "I was going to break the spell Thorveig laid on thee and Steingerd. Ye could have loved one another been happy if I had killed the third goose and no one seen it."
"I believe nought of such things," cried he; and this song he made about it: --
(67) "I gave her an ore at the ayre, That the arts of my foe should not prosper; And twice she has taken the knife, And twice she has offered the offering; But the blood is the blood of a goose -- What boots it if two should be slaughtered? -- Never sacrifice geese for a Skald Who sings for the glory of Odin!"
So they went to the holmgang: but Thorvald gave the spae-wife a still greater fee, and offered the sacrifice of geese; and Cormac said: --
(68) "Trust never another man's mistress! For I know, on this woman who weareth The fire of the field of the sea-king The fiends have been riding to revel. The witch with her hoarse cry is working For woe when we go to the holmgang, And if bale be the end of the battle The blame, be assured, will be hers."
"Well," she said, "I can manage so that none shall know thee." Then Cormac began to upbraid her, saying she did nought but ill, and wanting to drag her out to the door to look at her eyes in the sunshine. His brother Thorgils made him leave that: -- "What good will it do thee?" said he.
Now Steingerd gave out that she had a mind to see the fight; and so she did. When Cormac saw her he made this song: --
(69) "I have fared to the field of the battle, O fair one that wearest the wimple! And twice for thy sake have I striven; What stays me as now from thy favour? This twice have I gotten thee glory, O goddess of ocean! and surely To my dainty delight, to my darling I am dearer by far than her mate."
So then they set to. Cormac's sword bit not at all, and for a long while they smote strokes one upon the other, but neither sword bit. At last Cormac smote upon Thorvard's side so great a blow that his ribs gave way and were broken; he could fight no more, and thereupon they parted. Cormac looked and saw where a bull was standing, which he slew for a sacrifice; and being heated, he doffed his helmet from his head, saying this song: --