drank the mead of warm wounds. mead of wounds: blood
The war-twig of valkyrie’s thorns valkyrie’s thorns: warriors; their war-twig. sword
split Gunnlaug’s skull.
On the same night, at Mosfell in the south, it happened that Onund dreamed that Hrafn came to him. He was all covered in blood, and spoke this verse:
24. My sword was stained with gore,
but the Odin of swords Odin (god) of swords: warrior (Gunnlaug)
sword-swiped me too; on shields
shield-giants were tried overseas. shield-giants: enemies of shields, i.e. swords
I think there stood blood-stained
blood-goslings in blood round my brain. blood-goslings: ravens
Once more the wound-eager wound-raven
wound-river is fated to wade.wound-river. blood
At the Althing the following summer, Illugi the Black spoke to Onund at the Law Rock.
‘How are you going to compensate me for my son,’ he asked, ‘since your son Hrafn tricked him when they had declared a truce?’
‘I don’t think there’s any onus on me to pay compensation for him,’ Onund replied, ‘since I’ve been so sorely wounded by their encounter myself. But I won’t ask you for any compensation for my son, either.’
‘Then some of your family and friends will suffer for it,’ Illugi answered. And all summer, after the Althing, Illugi was very depressed.
People say that during the autumn, Illugi rode off from Gilsbakki with about thirty men, and arrived at Mosfell early in the morning. Onund and his sons rushed into the church, but Illugi captured two of Onund’s kinsmen. One of them was named Bjorn and the other Thorgrim. Illugi had Bjorn killed and Thorgrim’s foot cut off. After that, Illugi rode home, and Onund sought no reprisals for this act. Hermund Illugason was very upset about his brother’s death, and thought that, even though this had been done, Gunnlaug had not been properly avenged.
There was a man named Hrafn, who was a nephew of Onund of Mosfell’s. He was an important merchant, and owned a ship which was moored in Hrutafjord.
That spring, Hermund Illugason rode out from home on his own. He went north over Holtavarda heath, across to Hrutafjord and then over to the merchants’ ship at Bordeyri. The merchants were almost ready to leave. Skipper Hrafn was ashore, with several other people. Hermund rode up to him, drove his spear through him and then rode away. Hrafn’s colleagues were all caught off-guard by Hermund. No compensation was forthcoming for this killing, and with it the feuding between Illugi the Black and Onund was at an end.
Some time later, Thorstein Egilsson married his daughter Helga to a man named Thorkel, the son of Hallkel. He lived out in Hraunsdal, and Helga went back home with him, although she did not really love him. She could never get Gunnlaug out of her mind, even though he was dead. Still, Thorkel was a decent man, rich and a good poet. They had a fair number of children. One of their sons was named Thorarin, another Thorstein, and they had more children besides.
Helga’s greatest pleasure was to unfold the cloak which Gunnlaug had given her and stare at it for a long time. Now there was a time when Thorkel and Helga’s household was afflicted with a terrible illness, and many people suffered a long time with it. Helga, too, became ill but did not take to her bed. One Saturday evening, Helga sat in the fire-room, resting her head in her husband Thorkel’s lap. She sent for the cloak Gunnlaug’s Gift, and when it arrived, she sat up and spread it out in front of her. She stared at it for a while. Then she fell back into her husband’s arms, dead. Thorkel spoke this verse:
25. My Helga, good arm-serpent’s staff, arm-serpent: gold bracelet; its staff: woman
dead in my arms I did clasp.
God carried off the life
of the linen-Lofn, my wife. linen-Lofn (goddess): woman
But for me, the river-flash’s poor Craver, river-flash: gold; its craver: man
it is heavier to be yet living.
Helga was taken to the church, but Thorkel carried on living in Hraunsdal
As one might expect, he found Helga’s death extremely hard to bear. And this is the end of the saga.
Translated by KATRINA C. ATTWOOD
THE SAGA OF REF THE SLY
Króka-Refs saga
Time of action: 950–1050
Time of writing: 1350–1400
The Saga of Ref the Sly is a fantastical and often picaresque story, in which themes and motifs from continental European literature are smoothly incorporated into the saga tradition. Ref Steinsson, the hero, emerges from a slothful childhood to become as accomplished a warrior as any classical saga champion; he resorts to weapons in order to avenge obvious injustice or personal insults, but shows as much resourcefulness in avoiding direct confrontation as he does in engaging in it.
Only the opening chapters of the saga are set in Iceland; the main action is in Greenland, Norway and Denmark, before Ref’s life ends on a pilgrimage to Rome. The Greenland of The Saga of Ref the Sly is not the historical settlement familiar from some sagas, nor the realm of trolls and the supernatural that we know from others, but rather a vague and timeless romance backdrop where the hero’s ingenuity and inventiveness are given free rein. History, too, is a secondary consideration, since Ref Steinsson is born while Hakon is king in Norway during the mid-tenth century, but is probably only in his thirties when he visits King Harald the Stern, who died at Stamford Bridge in 1066. The saga has no genealogical underpinning and the list of Ref’s noble descendants seems fanciful. Above all, this is a saga of pure entertainment, like the continental romances, yet firmly rooted in the practical realities of the Viking Age world.
Ref is a ‘coal-biter’ or ‘male Cinderella’ figure: lazy, unpromising and even considered a simpleton in his youth before suddenly developing into a hero with both brawn and brains – Grettir the Strong is another example of the type, although his life takes a completely different course in manhood. Ref also reveals exceptional skills as a craftsman, first with the boat that he builds and sails from Iceland to escape his pursuers, and later in Greenland with the bizarre fortification and conduit system that he builds in the wilderness. From there he flees to Norway with his wife Helga and three children, after killing Bard and thereby incurring the wrath of King Harald, and again saves his skin with an equally strange work of craftsmanship, this time in words: his kenning-laden riddle confessing that he killed Grani in order to rescue Helga from his clutches.
The hero’s name Ref (‘Fox’) may give an important clue to the saga’s provenance, suggesting links with Reynard from continental beast epics. In medieval Europe, this genre served as a powerful tool for expressing criticism of power structures and social injustice, but it is difficult to find any explicit message in The Saga of Ref the Sly. The continental beast fable also provided an outlet which could entertain without the shackles of religious dogma, and the world of Ref with its relish for the funny and the peculiar seems closer to the licence which was often granted to animals but denied to men. Certainly, Ref has many qualities in common with his animal namesake: he is sly, wary of fighting until he is sure he can win, motivated above all by his own survival, and devotedly protective towards his family.
The saga is dated towards the end of the fourteenth century and preserved complete in only one manuscript, from the second half of the fifteenth century (AM 471 4to). It is translated here by George Clark, from the text printed in Íslendinga sögur III (Reykjavik 1987).
I In the days of King Hakon, the foster-son of King Athelstan, a man named Stein was living in Breidafjord, at the farm at Kvennabrekka. Thorgerd, his wife, was Oddleif’s daughter, and Gest of Bardastrond’s sister. Stein was rich and an outstanding farmer. He was very old when the story begins.
They had a son, Ref. He was big for his age, good-looking and hard to manage. No one realized how strong he was. He stuck close to the fire and did no useful work but lolled underfoot where people had to walk. The couple felt that it was a great misfortune that their son was so
unwilling to behave like other people. Most people said that he was a fool.
There was a man named Thorbjorn who was rich, overbearing, a great fighter and a trouble-maker. He had lived in every quarter of the country, but the chieftains and the public had expelled him from each district in turn because of his unfairness and his manslaughters. He had not paid compensation for any man he had killed. His wife was named Rannveig; she was stupid and domineering. It was generally felt that Thorbjorn would have committed fewer outrages if she had not driven him on. Now Thorbjorn bought land at Saudafell mountain. Many of those who knew his reputation beforehand were apprehensive about his coming.
Stein’s and Thorbjorn’s farmsteads were not far apart; the river which ran between their farms was the boundary separating their lands. When Thorbjorn had lived there a while, his livestock began straying into Stein’s land because Thorbjorn had many grazing animals.
In due course, Stein conferred with his neighbour, Thorbjorn, and said, ‘The situation is this: you’ve lived in the neighbourhood with me for two years, and our relationship has been good rather than bad, though it’s generally said that you are not a popular man. Up until now I’ve suffered no harm because of you or yours, but now your livestock are straying into my fields and grazing on them. Now I wish that you would improve matters in response to my request and have your livestock watched more closely than has been the case up till now. It could fall out, since I am no liar, that people who may have a quarrel with you will believe what I say. And in a case like that, I’ll be able to testify that you have not dealt unfairly with me or wrongly desired what is mine.’
Thorbjorn said that no one had ever spoken so moderately and reasonably with him and that he thought that, if more people had spoken to him about matters that seemed out of order, he would have committed fewer impulsive killings: ‘This matter will certainly improve as you ask.’
After this they parted. Thorbjorn had changes made for the better so that his livestock caused Stein no further damage, as he had requested.
2 Sometime later Stein fell ill. He declared that he would not have any more illnesses, saying that this one would single-handedly be his death.
He said to his wife, Thorgerd, ‘I want you to sell the land after my death and move west to Bardastrond where your brother Gest lives. I have an inkling that Thorbjorn won’t be a quiet neighbour for you, even though the two of us have got on well. I expect that your land will seem more convenient to him for grazing now.’
Then Stein died.
Now Thorgerd did not have the heart to let the land go because it seemed beautiful and good in every respect. And before very long, Thorbjorn’s watch over his livestock worsened. Now his animals went into Thorgerd’s pastures night and day. The result of this overgrazing was that Thorbjorn’s stock devastated Thorgerd’s hayfields, and for two winters she had to slaughter livestock for want of hay. Thorgerd often spoke of this with Thorbjorn, requesting that he should watch his livestock better, but it did no good. Then she looked to see if people were interested in buying her land, but no one was keen on living close to Thorbjorn. So the land was not sold.
It is said that there was a man named Bardi in the district, a very small man. He was called Bardi the Short. He was very swift-footed and could run as fast as the best horses. He was sharp-sighted and observant. He herded livestock in summer and was reliable and honest in everything. Thorgerd sought this man out at the Spring Assembly and asked if he would work for her watching over livestock and said that he would have what wages he pleased. She made it clear to him that more often than not he could have to watch out for Thorbjorn’s straying livestock and told him the long and the short of the conflict between the two farms.
Bardi answered, ‘I would not choose any job other than the one with you, given the way you tell it. It doesn’t seem too much for me to protect your land against grazing by other people’s livestock.’
So Bardi went home with Thorgerd and began tending the livestock. He built himself two sheds, one at the foot of the mountain and the other in the meadows along the river which ran between the houses. He quartered in that one every night and kept Thorbjorn’s livestock from Thorgerd’s land so that they never got over the river. He stayed on the bank and from there he kept the livestock off. He never crossed the river.
3 Thorgerd’s livestock now gave lots of milk which they had not done the previous summers.
On her part, Rannveig, mistress of the other house, felt that her summer’s production was poor. One day she spoke with Thorbjorn and asked where the livestock were put to pasture. He said that they grazed along the river every day.
‘Is it at all fitting,’ she said, ‘that that man should be with Thorgerd to bar our livestock from the pasture they have had in past summers? You’ve done the wrong thing and left the right undone, Thorbjorn, since you’ve attacked and killed wholly inoffensive men but allow this nitwit to carry on to our shame by barring our livestock from the pasture they want.’
‘Who is this man?’ said Thorbjorn.
‘His name is Bardi,’ said Rannveig. ‘He’s a miserable, tiny wretch, and he sleeps outside every night and prevents our livestock from crossing the river.’
After that Thorbjorn took his horse and rode across the river and came to the shed where Bardi was.
Then Thorbjorn said, ‘Is it true that you keep our livestock from this pasture and beat them so that they don’t dare graze near the river? That way we’re not getting any milk.’
Bardi answered, ‘It’s no lie that I never let your livestock come on to our land. But it is not true that I beat them or that I prevent them from grazing on your own land. I think that you won’t have any less production than you had your first summer here. And you’re getting it more honestly.’
Thorbjorn said, ‘It seems to me more likely that you are acting unlawfully than I, because you can be declared an outlaw if our autumn round-up goes short. Now I want you to leave off this work or it just won’t do.’
Bardi answered, ‘I have often undertaken tending livestock so that I do my job, and so it’s always been and will be.’
Then Thorbjorn struck Bardi his death-blow and dragged him into the shed and rode home afterwards and reported what had happened. It seemed to Rannveig that the matter was nicely settled, and immediately she had the livestock driven on to Thorgerd’s land. The herd went right into the hayfield, pulled down Thorgerd’s haystack and did a lot of damage. She came out and saw the cattle standing around the farmyard. It seemed to her that this meant something terrible had happened, and she sent people to drive the cattle off; they found Bardi lying slain in the shed and reported this news to Thorgerd. Then she went into the fire-room and saw Ref, her son.
Then she said, ‘I shudder in my heart whenever I see you before my eyes, you disgrace of a son, and how luckless I was when I bore you, you cretin. It would have been better if my child had been a daughter. I might have married her to a man we could rely on. Even if our land is eaten up or haystacks broken down or our people killed, you, you coward, lie about and act as if we had nothing to attend to.’
Ref got up and said, ‘The rest will make hard hearing, mother, if your scolding begins like that.’
Then he took down a big halberd. Stein had kept a good supply of weapons. Then he walked from the farmyard and went along the road, throwing the spear ahead of him and running after it. Thorbjorn’s men were at work and saw Ref on his way, knew who he was and jeered loudly. Ref went straight to Thorbjorn’s farmhouse, and when he got to the door he saw no one outside. He heard the women in their main room and they were asking if Thorbjorn had awakened. He had lain down to sleep. Ref broke off the lower part of his spear-shaft, then walked in quickly and went along the hall. Thorbjorn heard someone coming and asked who was moving there.
Ref said, ‘I’m coming here now.’
‘Who are you?’ said Thorbjorn.
‘Someone from another farm,’ said Ref.
‘But you’ve got to have a na
me,’ said Thorbjorn.
‘My name is Ref.’
And in that instant, Ref slipped into the bed closet.
Thorbjorn had thrown off the bedclothes and said, ‘Age is really getting to me when I don’t recognize you. You’re very welcome, Ref, but what is your business here?’
Ref said, ‘What that will be depends entirely on you.’
‘How so?’ asked Thorbjorn.
Ref answered, ‘I have come to ask compensation for the killing of Bardi, my farmhand. I’ll be modest about it and accept what is very little for you to pay and yet honourable for me to receive. It will be to my honour that you value my request since you have killed a humble man.’
Thorbjorn got dressed quickly and said, ‘Your request is good and it might be that I will pay some compensation, but it’s no less likely that I will neither pay damages for him nor for anyone else.’
Ref said, ‘It’s more appropriate that you pay something.’
Thorbjorn said, ‘You speak so well that something has to be forthcoming.’
He was all dressed then, and reached down beneath the bed-frame and brought up a large, single-edged knife with a whetstone.
Then Thorbjorn took a sword in one hand and offered the knife and whetstone to Ref saying, ‘One should offer an untempered blade to a softy.’
At the instant, Ref thrust his spear through Thorbjorn’s mid-section. Thorbjorn fell backwards. He had not been able to draw the sword because the safety band was still fastened and it all happened quickly. Ref closed the door to the bed closet and headed for the front door. At that moment, the door to the main room opened. There was a large pile of driftwood in front of the main door. Ref decided to jump into the woodpile because he knew Thorbjorn’s men were near the road and would notice him at once if he headed for home. The women had heard men talking and were curious. Then they saw blood running along the floor. They called for the farmhands and when they arrived, they saw Thorbjorn had been killed. They searched for Ref and did not find him. No one thought they had seen him going home. The search was given up that evening.
The Sagas of the Icelanders Page 81