The Life and Death of Cormac the Skald [21]
(70) "I have fared to the field of the battle, O fair one that wearest the bracelet! Even three times for thee have I striven, And this thou canst never deny me. But the reed of the fight would not redden, Though it rang on the shield-bearer's harness; For the spells of a spae-wife had blunted My sword that was eager for blood."
He wiped the sweat from him on the corner of Steingerd's mantle; and said: --
(71) "So oft, being wounded and weary, I must wipe my sad brow on thy mantle. What pangs for thy sake are my portion, O pine-tree with red gold enwreathed! Yet beside thee he snugs on the settle As thou seamest thy broidery, -- that rhymester! And the shame of it whelms me in sorrow, O Steingerd! -- that rascal unslain!"
And then Cormac prayed Steingerd that she would go with him: but Nay, she said; she would have her own way about men. So they parted, and both were ill pleased.
Thorvard was taken home, and she bound his wounds. Cormac was now always meeting with Steingerd. Thorvard healed but slowly; and when he could get on his feet he went to see Thordis, and asked her what was best to help his healing.
"A hill there is," answered she, "not far away from here, where elves have their haunt. Now get you the bull that Cormac killed, and redden the outer side of the hill with its blood, and make a feast for the elves with its flesh. Then thou wilt be healed."
So they sent word to Cormac that they would buy the bull. He answered that he would sell it, but then he must have the ring that was Steingerd's. So they brought the ring, took the bull, and did with it as Thordis bade them do. On which Cormac made a song: --
(72) "When the workers of wounds are returning, And with them the sacrifice reddened, Then a lady in raiment of linen, Who loved me, time was, -- she will ask: -- My ring, -- have ye robbed me? -- where is it? -- I have wrought them no little displeasure: For the swain that is swarthy has won it, The son of old Ogmund, the skald."
It fell out as he guessed. Steingerd was very angry because they had sold her ring.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE How Cormac Beat Thorvard Again.
After that, Thorvard was soon healed, and when he thought he was strong again, he rode to Mel and challenged Cormac to the holmgang.
"It takes thee long to tire of it," said Cormac: "but I'll not say thee nay."
So they went to the fight, and Thordis met Thorvard now as before, but Cormac sought no help from her. She blunted Cormac's sword, so that it would not bite, but yet he struck so great a stroke on Thorvard's shoulder that the collarbone was broken and his hand was good for nothing. Being so maimed he could fight no longer, and had to pay another ring for his ransom.
Then Thorolf of Spakonufell set upon Cormac and struck at him. He warded off the blow and sang this song: --
(73) "This reddener of shields, feebly wrathful, His rusty old sword waved against me, Who am singer and sacred to Odin! Go, snuffle, most wretched of men, thou! A thrust of thy sword is as thewless As thou, silly stirrer of battle. What danger to me from thy daring, Thou doited old witch-woman's carle?"
Then he killed a bull in sacrifice according to use and wont, saying, "Ill we brook your overbearing and the witchcraft of Thordis:" and he made this song: --
(74) "The witch in the wave of the offering Has wasted the flame of the buckler, Lest its bite on his back should be deadly At the bringing together of weapons. My sword was not sharp for the onset When I sought the helm-wearer in battle; But the cur got enough to cry craven, With a clout that will mind him of me!"
After that each party went home, and neither was well pleased with these doings.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR How They All Went Out To Norway.
Now all the
He wiped the sweat from him on the corner of Steingerd's mantle; and said: --
(71) "So oft, being wounded and weary, I must wipe my sad brow on thy mantle. What pangs for thy sake are my portion, O pine-tree with red gold enwreathed! Yet beside thee he snugs on the settle As thou seamest thy broidery, -- that rhymester! And the shame of it whelms me in sorrow, O Steingerd! -- that rascal unslain!"
And then Cormac prayed Steingerd that she would go with him: but Nay, she said; she would have her own way about men. So they parted, and both were ill pleased.
Thorvard was taken home, and she bound his wounds. Cormac was now always meeting with Steingerd. Thorvard healed but slowly; and when he could get on his feet he went to see Thordis, and asked her what was best to help his healing.
"A hill there is," answered she, "not far away from here, where elves have their haunt. Now get you the bull that Cormac killed, and redden the outer side of the hill with its blood, and make a feast for the elves with its flesh. Then thou wilt be healed."
So they sent word to Cormac that they would buy the bull. He answered that he would sell it, but then he must have the ring that was Steingerd's. So they brought the ring, took the bull, and did with it as Thordis bade them do. On which Cormac made a song: --
(72) "When the workers of wounds are returning, And with them the sacrifice reddened, Then a lady in raiment of linen, Who loved me, time was, -- she will ask: -- My ring, -- have ye robbed me? -- where is it? -- I have wrought them no little displeasure: For the swain that is swarthy has won it, The son of old Ogmund, the skald."
It fell out as he guessed. Steingerd was very angry because they had sold her ring.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE How Cormac Beat Thorvard Again.
After that, Thorvard was soon healed, and when he thought he was strong again, he rode to Mel and challenged Cormac to the holmgang.
"It takes thee long to tire of it," said Cormac: "but I'll not say thee nay."
So they went to the fight, and Thordis met Thorvard now as before, but Cormac sought no help from her. She blunted Cormac's sword, so that it would not bite, but yet he struck so great a stroke on Thorvard's shoulder that the collarbone was broken and his hand was good for nothing. Being so maimed he could fight no longer, and had to pay another ring for his ransom.
Then Thorolf of Spakonufell set upon Cormac and struck at him. He warded off the blow and sang this song: --
(73) "This reddener of shields, feebly wrathful, His rusty old sword waved against me, Who am singer and sacred to Odin! Go, snuffle, most wretched of men, thou! A thrust of thy sword is as thewless As thou, silly stirrer of battle. What danger to me from thy daring, Thou doited old witch-woman's carle?"
Then he killed a bull in sacrifice according to use and wont, saying, "Ill we brook your overbearing and the witchcraft of Thordis:" and he made this song: --
(74) "The witch in the wave of the offering Has wasted the flame of the buckler, Lest its bite on his back should be deadly At the bringing together of weapons. My sword was not sharp for the onset When I sought the helm-wearer in battle; But the cur got enough to cry craven, With a clout that will mind him of me!"
After that each party went home, and neither was well pleased with these doings.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR How They All Went Out To Norway.
Now all the