by Martin Regal
Arnkel’s shepherd watched their movements carefully and told Arnkel. He took his weapons and rode after them, catching up with them between the Svelgsa river and Holar. When he approached them, Hauk jumped off his horse and thrust at Arnkel with his spear, but the blow landed on the shield and did not cause any injury. Then Arnkel jumped off his horse and thrust at him with his spear, and that blow went through his belly and he fell there at the place now known as Hauksa river.
When the slaves saw Hauk was dead, they took off and ran home along the path with Arnkel chasing them all the way past Oxnabrekkur. He turned back there and drove the horses carrying the timber back to his farm. He unloaded the timber and let the horses loose after tying the ropes up on their backs. They were then shown the way out along the hillside, which they followed until they came to Helgafell. News of this soon got around, but everything stayed quiet for the rest of the year.
The next spring Snorri the Godi brought a case over the killing of Hauk at the Thorsnes Assembly, and Arnkel brought a charge of assault against Hauk to invalidate Snorri’s case. There were many supporters on both sides at the assembly, and the case was contested with vehemence. The result of the case was that Hauk was found to have been beyond the protection of the law on account of his assault, so Snorri’s charge was quashed. Everyone rode away from the assembly after that. But there was much resentment among people for the rest of the summer.
36 Thorleif was the name of a man from the East Fjords who had been sentenced to lesser outlawry for seducing a woman. He came to Helgafell in the autumn and asked Snorri the Godi to take him in. Snorri turned him away, but they talked for a very long time before he went away. After that, Thorleif went over to Bolstad, arriving in the evening and staying there for two nights. Arnkel got up early in the morning and was repairing his outside door. When Thorleif got up, he went to Arnkel and asked him to take him in. Arnkel answered rather hesitantly, and asked him if he had been to see Snorri the Godi.
‘I saw him,’ said Thorleif, ‘and he would not have me on any account. Still I don’t think much of supporting a man who always lets someone else get the better of him.’
‘I don’t think Snorri would make much of a bargain by offering to feed you in return for your support,’ Arnkel replied.
‘I’d rather be taken in by someone such as yourself, Arnkel,’ Thorleif said.
‘I’m not in the habit of receiving people from outside the district,’ Arnkel replied.
They kept on arguing about this for quite a while. Thorleif kept on about the matter, but Arnkel turned him down. Arnkel was then drilling into the cross-plank of the door, and had laid aside his adze while he did it. Thorleif picked it up and lifted it quickly up above his head, intending to bring it down on Arnkel’s head. But when Arnkel heard the whistling sound of the adze through the air, he jumped out of the way of the blow. He lifted Thorleif up to his chest, and the difference in their strength was soon apparent, for Arnkel was a very powerful man. He dashed Thorleif down on to the ground with such force that he almost lost consciousness and the adze was flung out of his hand. Arnkel took hold of it and struck into Thorleif’s head with it, giving him a fatal wound.
There was talk that Snorri the Godi had sent this man after Arnkel’s head. Snorri did not get involved in the discussion, and let people say whatever they wanted to, and so the year passed without incident.
37 The next autumn at the Winter Nights, Snorri the Godi hosted a great autumn feast and invited his friends to it. Ale was served and the drinking was heavy. People grew merry with the ale, and there was a lot of talk about who the most eminent man or the greatest chieftain in the district was. People were by no means of one opinion on this, as is often the way when there is talk of comparing men. Most of them thought Snorri the Godi was the most eminent man, but some went for Arnkel. A few even named Styr.
While they were discussing this, Thorleif Kimbi had his say: ‘Why are you all arguing about this when everyone can see who the greatest man is.’
‘What’s your opinion then, Thorleif,’ they asked, ‘if you are going to be so frank about the matter?’
‘Arnkel seems by far the best to me,’ he said.
‘What makes you think that?’ they asked.
‘It’s the truth, that’s all,’ he said. ‘In my opinion, Snorri the Godi and Styr count as one man because of their kinship, but none of Arnkel’s household lies dead and unatoned beside his farm, killed by Snorri, whereas Snorri’s supporter, Hauk, lies here beside Snorri’s farm, killed by Arnkel.’
People thought that was going too far, considering where they were, even though it was true, and the conversation died down.
When everyone was leaving the feast, Snorri chose gifts for his friends. He accompanied the Thorbrandssons to their ship at Raudavikurhofdi headland.
When they were ready to part, Snorri went up to Thorleif Kimbi and said, ‘Here is an axe, Thorleif, which I want to give you. It has the longest handle of any I own, but it is not long enough to reach Arnkel’s head while he is haymaking at Orlygsstadir, if you should take it with you from home in Alftafjord.’
Thorleif accepted the axe and said, ‘Bear in mind that I will not hesitate to raise my axe against Arnkel once you are ready to avenge your supporter, Hauk.’
‘I think you Thorbrandssons owe it to me to keep a look out for when I might have a chance with Arnkel. If I don’t join you, when you’ve warned me that something could be done, then you can blame me.’
They parted at that, both sides saying they were prepared to kill Arnkel, but the Thorbrandssons were to keep a watch on his movements. Early in the winter there was a severe freeze, and all the fjords iced over. Freystein Bofi was looking after sheep in Alftafjord, and was also meant to be looking out for an opportunity to get Arnkel. Arnkel was a hard worker and made his slaves work from sun-up to sun-down. He had responsibility for both the farm at Ulfarsfell and the one at Orlygsstadir, since no one else was prepared to farm that land in the face of the Thorbrandssons’ hostility.
During the winter it was Arnkel’s habit to move hay from Orlygsstadir during the night by the light of the moon, since the slaves worked all through the day. He did not care at all that the Thorbrandssons were well aware whenever hay was being moved. One winter’s night before Yule, Arnkel got up during the night and woke up three of his slaves, including one named Ofeig. Arnkel the farmer went with them over to Orlygsstadir, and they had four oxen and two sleds with them. The Thorbrandssons became aware of their journey and Freystein Bofiwent over the ice to Helgafell at once, arriving at night when everyone had been in bed for a while. He woke up Snorri the Godi.
Snorri asked him what he wanted, and he answered, ‘The old eagle has flown after its prey at Orlygsstadir.’
Snorri stood up and told everyone to get dressed. When they were dressed, they took their weapons and nine of them went out together across the ice to Alftafjord. When they reached the head of the fjord, the Thorbrandssons met up with them, and there were six of them. They all went up to Orlygsstadir together. When they arrived, one of the slaves had already taken back a cartload of hay, and Arnkel and the others were at work on the next load. Then they saw that armed men were coming up from the foreshore.
Ofeig was afraid that there might be trouble, saying, ‘the only thing to do is for us to go back home.’
‘I think the best policy here is for each of us to do whatever he thinks best,’ said Arnkel. ‘You should run home and wake up my supporters, who will get here quickly. The haystack is a good place to fight from, and I will defend myself from here if these men are hostile, because that seems better to me than running away. I will not weaken quickly. My men will arrive quickly to support me if you carry out your mission honourably.’
By the time Arnkel had said this, the slaves were on the run. Ofeig was the faster of the two. He was so scared that he nearly went out of his wits. He raced up into the mountain and fell into a waterfall and died. The waterfall is called Ofeigsfoss. The other
slave ran back to the farm and as he went past the barn, his companion was there carting in the hay. He called out to the slave running past to help him bring in the hay, and it so happened that he had no objection to this work and joined him.
To return to Arnkel, he had recognized the party of men as Snorri the Godi’s. He ripped the running-blade from the sled and took it up into the haystack with him. The haystack wall was tall on the outside and the hay was piled up even higher inside, except for at the end inside the wall, which was a good place to fight from. When Snorri and his men arrived at the haystack, it is not mentioned that they exchanged any words. They launched their attack at once, mostly with spears, and Arnkel defended himself with the running-blade. Many of their spear-shafts were broken but Arnkel was not wounded. When they had run out of missiles, Thorleif Kimbi ran towards the haystack and climbed up it with a drawn sword, but Arnkel swung the running-blade at him and Thorleif had to fall down backwards from the haystack to avoid the blow. The blade hit the haystack wall and went over on to the frozen turfs, where it broke at the strap holes, with one half flying out of the haystack. Arnkel had brought his sword and shield up into the haystack, and he took up his weapons now to defend himself, although he was in great danger of being wounded. They came up into the haystack and attacked him, but Arnkel climbed higher up on to the hay and held his position for a while. But in the end Arnkel was killed, and they hid his body under the hay in the haystack. After that Snorri and his men went back to Helgafell.
Thormod Trefilsson composed this verse in his long praise poem about Arnkel:
26.
With his sword the stout-hearted
warrior provided enough food
for the bird of wounds – young Snorri bird of wounds: raven
won fame for himself in victory;
when he felled Arnkel,
the gladdener of Leifi’s gull Leifi: sea-king; his gull: raven; its
struck at the chest of life gladdener: warrior
with the wound-sea’s fire. wound-sea: blood; its fire: sword
To return now to Arnkel’s slaves, they went inside after they had finished unloading the hay, and took off their leather cloaks. Arnkel’s followers woke up and asked them where he was. It was as if the slave awoke from a dream, and he replied:
‘The truth is, he must be fighting Snorri the Godi at Orlygsstadir now.’
The men leapt up, got dressed and went as quickly as they could over to Orlygsstadir, where they found their master Arnkel dead. His death was mourned by everyone because he had been the most accomplished of all men in ancient times. He was the wisest of them all, even-tempered, stout-hearted, braver than anyone else, determined and very moderate. He always came out best in lawsuits, no matter who his adversary was. He was envied because of this, as the final events of his life show. They took Arnkel’s body and prepared it for burial. Arnkel was placed in a burial mound by the sea out on Vadilshofdi headland, and the mound is as big as a large haystack.
38 Arnkel’s only heirs were women, and because of this the prosecution for his killing was not taken up with as much energy as might have been expected for such a great man. Nevertheless, the case was settled at the assembly, but only one man was outlawed for it: Thorleif Kimbi had to go abroad for three years after being charged with giving Arnkel his death-wound.
Since the outcome of this case was not as honourable as was thought fitting for a great chieftain such as Arnkel, the leading men of the land made a law that a woman or a young man under the age of sixteen could never prosecute a manslaughter case, and this has been the law ever since.
39 Thorleif Kimbi made his journey that summer with some traders who were preparing their ship at Straumfjord, and he kept company with the leading men. It was the custom of traders not to have a cook, but for the messmates themselves to cast lots to decide which of them would prepare the food each day. All the sailors had to get their drinking water from a cask with a lid over it which stood by the mast. Extra water was kept in barrels which was used to replenish the cask when it was emptied.
When they were very nearly ready to set off, a man arrived at Budarhamar. He was a very big man, and he carried a load on his back. He struck people as rather strange. He asked to see the skipper and was shown to his booth. He took off his bundle by the door of the booth, and then went inside. He asked the skipper if he would grant him passage on his ship. They asked him his name and he said it was Arnbjorn, son of Asbrand of Kamb. He said he wanted to travel abroad to look for his brother, Bjorn, who had gone abroad several winters before, but had not been heard of since he was in Denmark. The Norwegians said that the cargo was already fastened down and they did not think it could be undone at this stage. He said he had so little baggage for the journey that it could lie on top of the cargo. Because he seemed to them to need to make this journey, they took him on board, but he prepared his meals by himself and slept on the forward deck. In his baggage were three hundred ells of homespun cloth, twelve homespun cloaks and the provisions for his journey. Arnbjorn was handy around the ship and ready to help, and the traders held him in high regard.
They had a good outward passage, arriving in Hordaland at one of the outer islands, where they went ashore to prepare their meal. It was Thorleif Kimbi’s turn to cook, and he was supposed to make gruel. Arnbjorn was already on shore making gruel for himself, using the pot that Thorleif also wanted to use. Thorleif went ashore and asked Arnbjorn to give him the pot, but he had not yet thickened his gruel, and kept stirring the pot. Thorleif was left standing there. Then the Norwegians called out from the ship to Thorleif, telling him to get their meal ready, adding that it was typical of an Icelander to be so casual about his task. Thorleif lost his temper and grabbed the pot and took it away, spilling Arnbjorn’s gruel. Arnbjorn was left sitting there holding the ladle, but then he struck at Thorleif with it and hit him on the neck. It was a light blow, but because the gruel was hot, Thorleif ’s neck was burnt.
‘Since we are both Icelanders, the Norwegians aren’t going to get a chance to laugh at us by having to drag us apart like dogs,’ said Thorleif. ‘But I’ll remind you of this when we’re both back in Iceland.’ Arnbjorn did not respond.
They remained at anchor there for a few nights before they got a favourable wind to sail ashore and unload the ship. Thorleif found lodgings there, but Arnbjorn got a passage east with some merchant-seamen to Vik, and from there to Denmark to look for his brother Bjorn.
40 Thorleif Kimbi spent two years in Norway and returned to Iceland with the same traders as he had travelled with before. They arrived in Breidafjord and came ashore at Dagverdarnes. Thorleif went home to Alftafjord in autumn, and was very pleased with himself as usual.
The same summer the brothers Bjorn and Arnbjorn arrived back in Iceland at Hraunhofn estuary. Bjorn was now known as the Champion of the Breidavik People. Arnbjorn had made quite a lot of money abroad, and bought land at Bakki in Hraunhofn as soon as he got back that summer. He established a farm there the following spring, after spending the winter with his kinsman, Thord Blig.
Arnbjorn was not a showy sort of person, and had little to say on most matters, but he was nevertheless a great man in all respects. His brother, Bjorn, was a very showy man when he returned to Iceland, dressing very well according to the fashion of continental leaders. He was a much more handsome man than Arnbjorn, but he was by no means worthless, having proven himself in battle and distinguished himself while abroad.
During the summer when they had just come back, there was a large gathering of people north of the heath beneath Haugabrekkur, east of the Froda river estuary. All the traders rode over to it, dressed in brightly coloured clothes. When they arrived, there were already many people there. Thurid, the mistress of the house at Froda, was there and Bjorn went to talk to her, though no one thought much of it since it was to be expected they would have a lot to talk about, having not seen each other for so long.
A skirmish between some of the men broke out during the day,
and one of the northerners was fatally wounded. His body was carried underneath a bush which grew on the gravel-bank by the river. So much blood flowed out of the wound that a pool of blood formed next to the bush. Kjartan, the son of Thurid of Froda, had a small axe in his hand, and he ran over to the bush and dipped the axe in the blood. When the people who lived south of the heath rode back south from the meeting, Thord Blig asked how Bjorn’s talk with Thurid of Froda had turned out. Bjorn said it had gone well. Then Thord asked whether he had noticed during the day the young boy Kjartan, the son of Thorodd’s household.
‘Yes, I saw him,’ Bjorn replied.
‘What did you think of him?’ asked Thord.
Then Bjorn spoke this verse:
27.
I saw where the boy ran
to the wolf’s well by the bush; wolf’s well: pool of blood
ferocity in his eyes –
in my exact likeness;
spenders of the river’s fire river’s fire: gold; its spenders: men
say the child hardly recognized
his father, the helmsman
of the rolling current’s horse. the rolling current’s horse: ship
‘What will Thorodd have to say about which of you is the boy’s father?’ asked Thord.
Bjorn spoke this verse:
28.
Then will the slender fir-tree of the tapestry fir-tree of the tapestry:
affirm Thorodd’s guess – woman