The Sagas of the Icelanders

by Smilely, Jane

  I. A mark to the middle-strong man,

  lodgings-lord, I held out in my hand; lodgings-lord: man

  you’ll receive a fine silver-grey wire silver-grey wire: piece of silver

  for the one who spits flame from his gums. flame: blood

  It will cause you regret

  if you knowingly let

  the sea-serpent’s couch sea-serpent’s couch: gold

  slip out of your pouch.

  They arranged that Gunnlaug’s offer should be accepted, and when the matter was settled Gunnlaug and Thorkel rode home.

  A little while later, Gunnlaug asked his father a second time for wares, so that he could travel abroad.

  ‘Now you may have your own way,’ Illugi replied, ‘since you are better behaved than you used to be.’

  Illugi rode off at once and bought Gunnlaug a half-share in a ship from Audun Halter-dog. The ship was beached in the Gufua estuary. This was the same Audun who, according to The Saga of the People of Laxardal, would not take the sons of Osvif the Wise abroad after the killing of Kjartan Olafsson, though that happened later than this.

  When Illugi came home, Gunnlaug thanked him profusely. Thorkel the Black went along with Gunnlaug, and their wares were loaded on to the ship. While the others were getting ready, Gunnlaug was at Borg, and he thought it was nicer to talk to Helga than to work with the traders.

  One day, Thorstein asked Gunnlaug if he would like to ride up to his horses in Langavatnsdal with him. Gunnlaug said that he would, and they rode together until they arrived at Thorstein’s shielings, which were at a place called Thorgilsstadir. Thorstein had a stud of four chestnut horses there. The stallion was a splendid creature, but was not an experienced fighter. Thorstein offered to give the horses to Gunnlaug, but he said that he did not need them, since he intended to go abroad. Then they rode over to another stud of horses. There was a grey stallion there with four mares; he was the best horse in Borgarfjord. Thorstein offered to give him to Gunnlaug.

  ‘I don’t want this horse any more than I wanted the others,’ Gunnlaug answered. ‘But why don’t you offer me something I will accept?’

  ‘What’s that?’ Thorstein asked.

  ‘Your daughter, Helga the Fair,’ Gunnlaug replied.

  ‘That will not be arranged so swiftly,’ he said, and changed the subject.

  They rode home, down along the Langa river.

  Then Gunnlaug spoke: ‘I want to know how you will respond to my proposal.’

  ‘I’m not taking any notice of your nonsense,’ Thorstein replied.

  ‘This is quite serious, and not nonsense,’ Gunnlaug said.

  ‘You should have worked out what you wanted in the first place,’ Thorstein countered. ‘Haven’t you decided to go abroad? And yet you’re carrying on as if you want to get married. It wouldn’t be suitable for you and Helga to marry while you are so undecided. I’m not prepared to consider it.’

  ‘Where do you expect to find a match for your daughter if you won’t marry her to Illugi the Black’s son?’ Gunnlaug asked. ‘Where in Borgarfjord are there more important people than my father?’

  ‘I don’t go in for drawing comparisons between men,’ Thorstein parried, ‘but if you were such a man as he is you wouldn’t be turned away.’

  ‘To whom would you rather marry your daughter than me?’ Gunnlaug asked.

  ‘There’s a lot of good men around here to choose from,’ Thorstein replied. ‘Thorfinn at Raudamel has seven sons, all of them very manly.’

  ‘Neither Onund nor Thorfinn can compare with my father,’ Gunnlaug answered, ‘considering that even you clearly fall short of his mark. What have you done to compare with the time when he took on Thorgrim Kjallaksson the Godi and his sons at the Thorsnes Assembly by himself and came away with everything there was to be had?’*

  ‘I drove away Steinar, the son of Ogmund Sjonif – and that was considered quite an achievement,’ Thorstein replied.

  ‘You had your father, Egil, to help you then,’ Gunnlaug retorted. ‘Even so, there aren’t many farmers who would be safe if they turned down a marriage bond with me.’

  ‘You save your bullying for the people up in the hills,’ Thorstein replied. ‘It won’t count for much down here in the marshes.’

  They arrived home later that evening, and the following morning Gunnlaug rode up to Gilsbakki and asked his father to ride back to Borg with him to make a marriage proposal.

  ‘You are an unsettled fellow,’ Illugi replied. ‘You’ve already planned to go abroad, yet now you claim that you have to occupy yourself chasing after women. I know that Thorstein doesn’t approve of such behaviour.’

  ‘Nevertheless,’ Gunnlaug replied, ‘while I still intend to go abroad, nothing will please me unless you support me in this.’

  Then Illugi rode down from Gilsbakki to Borg, taking eleven men with him. Thorstein gave them a warm welcome.

  Early the next morning, Illugi said to Thorstein: ‘I want to talk to you.’

  ‘Let’s go up on to the Borg* and talk there,’ Thorstein suggested.

  They did so, and Gunnlaug went along too.

  Illugi spoke first: ‘My kinsman Gunnlaug says that he has already spoken of this matter on his own behalf; he wants to ask for the hand of your daughter Helga. Now I want to know what is going to come of this. You know all about his breeding and our family’s wealth. For our part, we will not neglect to provide either a farm or a godord, if that will help bring it about.’

  ‘The only problem I have with Gunnlaug is that he seems so unsettled,’ Thorstein replied. ‘But if he were more like you, I shouldn’t put it off.’

  ‘If you deny that this would be an equal match for both our families, it will bring an end to our friendship,’ Illugi warned.

  ‘For our friendship’s sake and because of what you’ve been saying, Helga will be promised to Gunnlaug, but not formally betrothed to him, and she will wait three years for him. And Gunnlaug must go abroad and follow the example of good men, and I will be free of any obligation if he doesn’t come back as required, or if I don’t like the way he turns out.’

  With that, they parted. Illugi rode home and Gunnlaug rode off to his ship, and the merchants put to sea as soon as they got a fair wind. They sailed to the north of Norway, and then sailed in past Trondheim to Nidaros, where they berthed the ship and unloaded.

  6 Earl Eirik Hakonarson and his brother Svein were ruling Norway in those days. Earl Eirik was staying on his family’s estate at Lade, and was a powerful chieftain. Skuli Thorsteinsson was there with him: he was one of the earl’s followers and was well thought of.

  It is said that Gunnlaug and Audun Halter-dog went to Lade with ten other men. Gunnlaug was dressed in a grey tunic and white breeches. He had a boil on his foot, right on the instep, and blood and pus oozed out of it when he walked. In this state, he went before the earl with Audun and the others and greeted him politely. The earl recognized Audun, and asked him for news from Iceland, and Audun told him all there was. Then the earl asked Gunnlaug who he was, and Gunnlaug told him his name and what family he came from.

  ‘Skuli Thorsteinsson,’ the earl asked, ‘what family does this fellow come from in Iceland?’

  ‘My lord,’ he replied, ‘give him a good welcome. He is the son of the best man in Iceland, Illugi the Black from Gilsbakki, and, what’s more, he’s my foster-brother.’

  ‘What’s the matter with your foot, Icelander?’ the earl asked.

  ‘I’ve got a boil on it, my lord,’ he replied.

  ‘But you weren’t limping?’

  ‘One mustn’t limp while both legs are the same length,’ Gunnlaug replied.

  Then a man named Thorir, who was one of the earl’s followers, spoke:

  ‘The Icelander is rather cocky. We should test him a bit.’ Gunnlaug looked at him, and spoke:

  2. A certain follower’s

  especially horrible;

  be wary of trusting him:

  he’s evil and black.
/>   Then Thorir made as if to grab his axe.

  ‘Leave it be,’ said the earl. ‘Real men don’t pay any attention to things like that. How old are you, Icelander?’

  ‘Just turned eighteen,’ Gunnlaug replied.

  ‘I swear that you’ll not survive another eighteen,’ the earl declared.

  ‘Don’t you call curses down on me,’ Gunnlaug muttered quite softly, ‘but rather pray for yourself.’

  ‘What did you just say, Icelander?’ the earl asked.

  ‘I said what I thought fit,’ Gunnlaug replied, ‘that you should not call curses down on me, but should pray more effective prayers for yourself.’

  ‘What should I pray for then?’ asked the earl.

  ‘That you don’t meet your death in the same way as your father Earl Hakon did.’*

  The earl turned as red as blood, and ordered that the fool be arrested at once

  Then Skuli went to the earl and said, ‘My lord, do as I ask: pardon the man and let him get out of here as quickly as he can.’

  ‘Let him clear off as fast as he can if he wants quarter,’ the earl commanded, ‘and never set foot in my kingdom again.’

  Then Skuli took Gunnlaug outside and down to the quay, where there was a ship all ready for its voyage to England. Skuli procured a passage in it for Gunnlaug and his kinsman Thorkel, and Gunnlaug entrusted his ship and the other belongings he did not need to keep with him to Audun for safe-keeping. Gunnlaug and Thorkel sailed off into the North Sea, and arrived in the autumn at the port of London, where they drew the ship up on to its rollers.

  7 King Ethelred, the son of Edgar, was ruling England at that time. He was a good ruler, and was spending that winter in London. In those days, the language in England was the same as that spoken in Norway and Denmark, but there was a change of language when William the Bastard conquered England. Since William was of French descent, the French language was used in England from then on.

  As soon as he arrived in London, Gunnlaug went before the king and greeted him politely and respectfully. The king asked what country he was from. Gunnlaug told him – ‘and I have come to you, my lord, because I have composed a poem about you, and I should like you to hear it’.

  The king said that he would. Gunnlaug recited the poem expressively and confidently. The refrain goes like this:

  3. All the army’s in awe and agog

  at England’s good prince, as at God:

  everyone lauds Ethelred the King,

  both the warlike king’s race and men’s kin.

  The king thanked him for the poem and, as a reward, gave him a cloak of scarlet* lined with the finest furs and with an embroidered band stretching down to the hem. He also made him one of his followers. Gunnlaug stayed with the king all winter and was well thought of.

  Early one morning, Gunnlaug met three men in a street. Their leader was named Thororm. He was big and strong, and rather obstreperous.

  ‘Northerner,’ he said, ‘lend me some money.’

  ‘It’s not a good idea to lend money to strangers,’ Gunnlaug replied.

  ‘I’ll pay you back on the date we agree between us,’ he promised.

  ‘I’ll risk it then,’ said Gunnlaug, giving Thororm the money.

  A little while later, Gunnlaug met the king and told him about the loan.

  ‘Now things have taken a turn for the worse,’ the king replied. ‘That fellow is the most notorious robber and thug. Have nothing more to do with him, and I will give you the same amount of money.’

  ‘Then your followers are a pretty pathetic lot,’ Gunnlaug answered. ‘We trample all over innocent men, but let thugs like him walk all over us! That will never happen.’

  Shortly afterwards, Gunnlaug met Thororm and demanded his money back, but Thororm said that he would not pay up. Then Gunnlaug spoke this verse:

  4. O god of the sword-spell, sword-spell: battle; its god: warrior

  you’re unwise to withhold your wealth

  from me; you’ve deceived

  the sword-point’s reddener. sword-point’s reddener: warrior, who reddens the sword’s point with blood

  I’ve something else to explain –

  ‘Serpent-tongue’ as a child

  was my name. Now again

  here’s my chance to prove why.

  ‘Now I’ll give you the choice the law provides for,’ said Gunnlaug. ‘Either you pay me my money or fight a duel with me in three days’ time.’

  The thug laughed and said, ‘Many people have suffered badly at my hands, and no one has ever challenged me to a duel before. I’m quite ready for it!’

  With that, Gunnlaug and Thororm parted for the time being. Gunnlaug told the king how things stood.

  ‘Now we really are in a fix,’ he said. ‘This man can blunt any weapon just by looking at it. You must do exactly as I tell you. I am going to give you this sword, and you are to fight him with it, but make sure that you show him a different one.’

  Gunnlaug thanked the king warmly.

  When they were ready for the duel, Thororm asked Gunnlaug what kind of sword he happened to have. Gunnlaug showed him and drew the sword, but he had fastened a loop of rope around the hilt of King’s Gift and he slipped it over his wrist.

  As soon as he saw the sword, the berserk said, ‘I’m not afraid of that sword.’

  He struck at Gunnlaug with his sword, and chopped off most of his shield. Then Gunnlaug struck back with his sword King’s Gift. The berserk left himself exposed, because he thought Gunnlaug was using the same weapon as he had shown him. Gunnlaug dealt him his death-blow there and then. The king thanked him for this service, and Gunnlaug won great fame for it in England and beyond.

  In the spring, when ships were sailing from country to country, Gunnlaug asked Ethelred for permission to do some travelling. The king asked him what he wanted to do.

  ‘I should like to fulfil a vow I have made,’ Gunnlaug answered, and spoke this verse:

  5. I will most surely visit

  three shapers of war shapers of war: kings

  and two earls of lands,

  as I promised worthy men.

  I will not be back

  before the point-goddess’s son point-goddess: valkyrie; her son: Ethelred

  summons me; he gives me

  a red serpent’s bed to wear. serpent’s bed: gold

  ‘And so it will be, poet,’ said the king, giving him a gold arm ring weighing six ounces. ‘But,’ he continued, ‘you must promise to come back to me next autumn, because I don’t want to lose such an accomplished man as you.’

  8 Then Gunnlaug sailed north to Dublin with some merchants. At that time, Ireland was ruled by King Sigtrygg Silk-beard, the son of Olaf Kvaran and Queen Kormlod. He had only been king for a short while.* Straight away, Gunnlaug went before the king and greeted him politely and respectfully. The king gave him an honourable welcome.

  ‘I have composed a poem about you,’ Gunnlaug said, ‘and I should like it to have a hearing.’

  ‘No one has ever deigned to bring me a poem before,’ the king replied. ‘Of course I will listen to it.’

  Gunnlaug recited the drapa, and the refrain goes like this:

  6. To the sorceress’s steed sorceress’s steed: wolf

  Sigtrygg corpses feeds.

  And it contains these lines as well:

  7. I know which offspring,

  descendant of kings,

  I want to proclaim

  – Kvaran’s son is his name;

  it is his habit

  to be quite lavish:

  the poet’s ring of gold

  he surely won’t withhold.

  8. The flinger of Frodi’s flame Frodi’s (sea-king’s) flame: gold; its flinger: generous man (Sigtrygg)

  should eloquently explain

  if he’s found phrasing neater

  than mine, in drapa metre.

  The king thanked Gunnlaug for the poem, and summoned his treasurer.

  ‘How should I reward the poem?’ h
e asked.

  ‘How would you like to, my lord?’ the treasurer said.

  ‘What kind of reward would it be if I gave him a pair of knorrs?’ the king asked.

  ‘That is too much, my lord,’ he replied. ‘Other kings give fine treasures – good swords or splendid gold bracelets – as rewards for poems.’

  The king gave Gunnlaug his own new suit of scarlet clothes, an embroidered tunic, a cloak lined with exquisite furs and a gold bracelet which weighed a mark. Gunnlaug thanked him profusely and stayed there for a short while. He went on from there to the Orkney Islands.

  In those days, the Orkney Islands were ruled by Earl Sigurd Hlodvesson. He thought highly of Icelanders. Gunnlaug greeted the earl politely and said that he had a poem to present to him. The earl said that he would indeed listen to Gunnlaug’s poem, since he was from such an important family in Iceland. Gunnlaug recited the poem, which was a well-constructed flokk. As a reward, the earl gave him a broad axe, decorated all over with silver inlay, and invited Gunnlaug to stay with him.

  Gunnlaug thanked him for the gift, and for the invitation, too, but said that he had to travel east to Sweden. Then he took passage with some merchants who were sailing to Norway, and that autumn they arrived at Kungalf in the east. As always, Gunnlaug’s kinsman, Thorkel, was still with him. They took a guide from Kungalf up into Vastergotland and so arrived at the market town named Skarar. An earl named Sigurd, who was rather old, was ruling there. Gunnlaug went before him and greeted him politely, saying that he had composed a poem about him. The earl listened carefully as Gunnlaug recited the poem, which was a flokk. Afterwards, the earl thanked Gunnlaug, rewarded him generously and asked him to stay with him over the winter.