The Saga of Gunnlaug Serpent-tongue
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Katrina C. Attwood
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THE SAGA OF GUNNLAUG SERPENT-TONGUE
Contents
The Saga of Gunnlaug Serpent-tongue
Glossary
Follow Penguin
The Saga of Gunnlaug Serpent-tongue was written down in Iceland around 1270–1300, although it would have circulated much earlier in oral form. The action is set 990–1010. This translation is taken from Sagas of Warrior-Poets, published in Penguin Classics in 2002.
ICELANDIC SAGAS IN PENGUIN CLASSICS
Comic Sagas and Tales from Iceland
Egil’s Saga
Gisli Sursson’s Saga and The Saga of the People of Eyri
Hrafnkel’s Saga and Other Icelandic Stories
Njal’s Saga
The Orkneyinga Saga
Sagas of Warrior-Poets
The Saga Of Grettir the Strong
The Saga of the People of Laxardal and Bolli Bollason’s Tale
The Saga of the Volsungs
The Vinland Sagas
This is the saga of Hrafn and of Gunnlaug Serpent-tongue, as told by the priest Ari Thorgilsson the Learned, who was the most knowledgeable of stories of the settlement and other ancient lore of anyone who has lived in Iceland.
1
There was a man named Thorstein. He was the son of Egil, the son of Skallagrim, the son of the hersir Kveldulf from Norway. Thorstein’s mother was named Asgerd. She was Bjorn’s daughter. Thorstein lived at Borg in Borgarfjord. He was rich and a powerful chieftain, wise, tolerant and just in all things. He was no great prodigy of either size or strength, as his father, Egil, had been. Learned men say that Egil was the greatest champion and duellist Iceland has ever known and the most promising of all the farmers’ sons, as well as a great scholar and the wisest of men. Thorstein, too, was a great man and was popular with everyone. He was a handsome man with white-blond hair and fine, piercing eyes.
Scholars say that the Myrar folk – the family descended from Egil – were rather a mixed lot. Some of them were exceptionally good-looking men, whereas others are said to have been very ugly. Many members of the family, such as Kjartan Olafsson, Killer-Bardi and Skuli Thorsteinsson were particularly talented in various ways. Some of them were also great poets, like Bjorn, the Champion of the Hitardal people, the priest Einar Skulason, Snorri Sturluson and many others.
Thorstein married Jofrid, the daughter of Gunnar Hlifarson. Gunnar was the best fighter and athlete among the farmers in Iceland at that time. The second best was Gunnar of Hlidarendi, and Steinthor from Eyri was the third. Jofrid was eighteen years old when Thorstein married her. She was a widow, having previously been married to Thorodd, the son of Tunga-Odd. It was their daughter, Hungerd, who was being brought up at Borg by Thorstein. Jofrid was an independent woman. She and Thorstein had several children, although only a few of them appear in this saga. Their eldest son was named Skuli, the next Kollsvein and the third Egil.
2
It is said that, one summer, a ship came ashore in the Gufua estuary. The skipper was a Norwegian named Bergfinn, who was rich and getting on in years. He was a wise man. Farmer Thorstein rode down to the ship. He usually had the greatest say in fixing the prices at the market, and that was the case this time. The Norwegians found themselves lodgings, and Thorstein himself took the skipper in, since Bergfinn asked him if he could stay at his house. Bergfinn was rather withdrawn all winter, but Thorstein was very hospitable to him. The Norwegian was very interested in dreams.
One spring day, Thorstein asked Bergfinn if he wanted to ride with him up to Valfell. The Borgarfjord people held their local assembly there in those days, and Thorstein had been told that the walls of his booth had fallen in. The Norwegian replied that he would indeed like to go, and they set out later that day, taking a servant of Thorstein’s with them. They rode until they arrived at Grenjar farm, which was near Valfell. A poor man named Atli, a tenant of Thorstein’s, lived there. Thorstein asked him to come and help them with their work, and to bring with him a turf-cutting spade and a shovel. He did so, and when they arrived at the place where the booths were they all set to work digging out the walls.
It was a hot, sunny day, and when they had finished digging out the walls, Thorstein and the Norwegian sat down inside the booth. Thorstein dozed off, but his sleep was rather fitful. The Norwegian was sitting beside him and let him finish his dream undisturbed. When Thorstein woke up, he was in considerable distress. The Norwegian asked him what he had been dreaming about, since he slept so badly.
‘Dreams don’t mean anything,’ Thorstein answered.
Now when they were riding home that evening, the Norwegian again asked what Thorstein had been dreaming about.
‘If I tell you the dream,’ Thorstein replied, ‘you must explain it as it really is.’ The Norwegian said that he would take that risk.
Then Thorstein said, ‘I seemed to be back home at Borg, standing outside the main doorway, and I looked up at the buildings, and saw a fine, beautiful swan up on the roof-ridge. I thought that I owned her, and I was very pleased with her. Then I saw a huge eagle fly down from the mountains. He flew towards Borg and perched next to the swan and chattered to her happily. She seemed to be well pleased with that. Then I noticed that the eagle had black eyes and claws of iron; he looked like a gallant fellow.
‘Next, I saw another bird fly from the south. He flew here to Borg, settled on the house next to the swan and tried to court her. It was a huge eagle too. As soon as the second eagle arrived, the first one seemed to become rather ruffled, and they fought fiercely for a long time, and I saw that they were both bleeding. The fight ended with each of them falling off the roof-ridge, one on each side. They were both dead. The swan remained sitting there, grief-stricken and dejected.
‘And then I saw another bird fly from the west. It was a hawk. It perched next to the swan and was gentle with her, and later they flew off in the same direction. Then I woke up. Now this dream is nothing much,’ he concluded, ‘and must be to do with the winds, which will meet in the sky, blowing from the directions that the birds appeared to be flying from.’
‘I don’t think that’s what it’s about,’ said the Norwegian.
‘Interpret the dream as seems most likely to you,’ Thorstein told him, ‘and let me hear that.’
‘These birds must be the fetches of important people,’ said the Norwegian. ‘Now, your wife is pregnant and will give birth to a pretty baby girl, and you will love her dearly. Noble men will come from the directions that the eagles in your dream seemed to fly from, and will ask for your daughter’s hand. They will love her more strongly than is reasonable and will fight over her, and both of them will die as a result. And then a third man, coming from the direction from which the hawk flew, will ask for her hand, and she will marry him. Now I have interpreted your dream for you. I think things will turn out like that.’
‘Your explanation is wicked and unfriendly,’ Thorstein replied. ‘You can’t possibly know how to interpret dreams.’
‘You’ll see how it turns out,’ the Norwegian retorted.
After this, Thorstein began to dislike the Norwegian, who went away that summer. He is now out of the saga.
3
Later in the summer, Thorstein got ready to go to the Althing. Before he left, he said to his wife, Jofrid, ‘As matters stand, you are soon going to have a baby. Now if you have a girl, it must be left out to die, but if it is a boy, it will be brought up.’
When the country was completely heathen, it was something of a custom for poor men with many dependants in their families to ha
ve their children exposed. Even so, it was always considered a bad thing to do.
When Thorstein had said this, Jofrid replied, ‘It is most unworthy for a man of your calibre to talk like that, and it cannot seem right to you to have such a thing done.’
‘You know what my temper is like,’ Thorstein replied. ‘It will not do for anyone to go against my command.’
Then he rode off to the Althing, and Jofrid gave birth to an extremely pretty baby girl. The women wanted to take the child to Jofrid, but she said that there was little point in that, and had her shepherd, whose name was Thorvard, brought to her.
‘You are to take my horse and saddle it,’ Jofrid told him, ‘and take this child west to Egil’s daughter Thorgerd at Hjardarholt. Ask her to bring the child up in secret, so that Thorstein never finds out about it. For I look upon the child with such love that I really have no heart to have it left out to die. Now, here are three marks of silver which you are to keep as your reward. Thorgerd will procure a passage abroad for you out there in the west, and will give you whatever you need for your voyage overseas.’
Thorvard did as she said. He rode west to Hjardarholt with the child and gave it to Thorgerd. She had it brought up by some of her tenants who lived at Leysingjastadir on Hvammsfjord. She also secured a passage for Thorvard on a ship berthed at Skeljavik in Steingrimsfjord in the north, and made provision for his voyage. Thorvard sailed abroad from there, and is now out of this saga.
Now when Thorstein came back from the Althing, Jofrid told him that the child had been exposed – just as he said it should be – and that the shepherd had run away, taking her horse with him. Thorstein said she had done well, and found himself another shepherd.
Six years passed without this coming out. Then one day Thorstein rode west to Hjardarholt, to a feast given by his brother-in-law Olaf Peacock, who was then the most respected of all the chieftains in the west country. Thorstein was warmly welcomed at Hjardarholt, as might be expected.
Now it is said that, one day during the feast, Thorgerd was sitting in the high seat talking to her brother Thorstein, while Olaf was making conversation with other men. Three girls were sitting on the bench opposite them.
Then Thorgerd said, ‘Brother, how do you like the look of those girls sitting opposite us?’
‘Very well,’ he replied, ‘though one of them is by far the prettiest, and she has Olaf’s good looks, as well as the fair complexion and features we men of Myrar have.’
‘You are certainly right, brother, when you say that she has the complexion and features of the Myrar men,’ Thorgerd said, ‘but she has none of Olaf Peacock’s looks, since she is not his daughter.’
‘How can that be,’ Thorstein asked, ‘since she’s your daughter?’
‘Kinsman,’ she answered, ‘to tell you the truth, this beautiful girl is your daughter, not mine.’ Then she told him everything that had happened, and begged him to forgive both her and his wife for this wrong.
‘I cannot blame you for this,’ Thorstein said. ‘In most cases, what will be will be, and you two have smoothed over my own stupidity well enough. I’m so pleased with this girl that I count myself very lucky to have such a beautiful child. But what’s her name?’
‘She’s named Helga,’ Thorgerd replied.
‘Helga the Fair,’ mused Thorstein. ‘Now you must get her ready to come home with me.’
And so she did. When he left, Thorstein was given splendid gifts, and Helga rode home to Borg with him and was brought up there, loved and cherished by her father and mother and all her relatives.
4
In those days, Illugi the Black, the son of Hallkel Hrosskelsson, lived at Gilsbakki in Hvitarsida. Illugi’s mother was Thurid Dylla, the daughter of Gunnlaug Serpent-tongue. Illugi was the second greatest chieftain in Borgarfjord, after Thorstein Egilsson. He was a great landowner, very strong-willed, and he stood by his friends. He was married to Ingibjorg, the daughter of Asbjorn Hardarson from Ornolfsdal. Ingibjorg’s mother was Thorgerd, the daughter of Skeggi from Midfjord. Ingibjorg and Illugi had many children, but only a few of them appear in this saga. One of their sons was named Hermund and another Gunnlaug. They were both promising fellows, and were then in their prime.
It is said that Gunnlaug was somewhat precocious, big and strong, with light chestnut hair, which suited him, dark eyes and a rather ugly nose. He had a pleasant face, a slender waist and broad shoulders. He was very manly, an impetuous fellow by nature, ambitious even in his youth, stubborn in all situations and ruthless. He was a gifted poet, albeit a somewhat abusive one, and was also called Gunnlaug Serpent-tongue. Hermund was the more popular of the two brothers and had the stamp of a chieftain about him.
When Gunnlaug was twelve years old, he asked his father for some wares to cover his travelling expenses, saying that he wanted to go abroad and see how other people lived. Illugi was reluctant to agree to this. He said that people in other countries would not think highly of Gunnlaug when he himself found that he could scarcely manage him as he would wish to at home.
Soon after this, Illugi went out early one morning and saw that his outhouse was open and that half a dozen sacks of wares had been laid out in the yard, with some saddle-pads. He was very surprised at this. Then someone came along leading four horses; it was his son Gunnlaug.
‘I put the sacks there,’ he said. Illugi asked why he had done so. He said they would do to help cover his travelling expenses.
‘You will not undermine my authority,’ said Illugi, ‘nor are you going anywhere until I see fit.’ And he dragged the sacks back inside.
Then Gunnlaug rode off and arrived down at Borg that evening. Farmer Thorstein invited him to stay and he accepted. Gunnlaug told Thorstein what had happened between him and his father. Thorstein said he could stay as long as he liked, and he was there for a year. He studied law with Thorstein and everyone there thought well of him.
Gunnlaug and Helga often amused themselves by playing board games with each other. They quickly took a liking to each other, as events later bore out. They were pretty much the same age. Helga was so beautiful that learned men say that she was the most beautiful woman there has ever been in Iceland. She had such long hair that it could cover her completely, and it was radiant as beaten gold. It was thought that there was no equal to Helga the Fair throughout Borgarfjord or in places further afield.
Now one day, when people were sitting around in the main room at Borg, Gunnlaug said to Thorstein, ‘There is still one point of law that you haven’t taught me – how to betroth myself to a woman.’
‘That’s a small matter,’ Thorstein replied, and he taught Gunnlaug the procedure.
Then Gunnlaug said, ‘Now you should check whether I’ve understood properly. I’ll take you by the hand and act as though I’m betrothing myself to your daughter Helga.’
‘I don’t see any need for that,’ Thorstein said.
Then Gunnlaug grabbed his hand. ‘Do this for me,’ he said.
‘Do what you like,’ Thorstein said, ‘but let those present here know that it will be as if this had not been said, and there must be no hidden meaning to it.’
Then Gunnlaug named his witnesses and betrothed himself to Helga. Afterwards, he asked whether that would do. Thorstein said that it would, and everyone there thought it was great fun.
5
There was a man named Onund who lived to the south at Mosfell. He was a very wealthy man, and held the godord for the headlands to the south. He was married, and his wife was named Geirny. She was the daughter of Gnup, the son of Molda-Gnup who settled at Grindavik in the south. Their sons were Hrafn, Thorarin and Eindridi. They were all promising men, but Hrafn was the most accomplished of them in everything. He was a big, strong man, well worth looking at, and a good poet. When he was more or less grown up, he travelled about from country to country and was well respected wherever he went.
Thorodd Eyvindarson the Wise and his son Skafti lived at Hjalli in Olfus in those days. Skafti was Lawspeak
er in Iceland at that time. His mother was Rannveig, the daughter of Gnup Molda-Gnupsson, and so Skafti and the sons of Onund were cousins. There was great friendship between them, as well as this blood tie.
Thorfinn Seal-Thorisson was then living out at Raudamel. He had seven sons, and they were all promising men. Their names were Thorgils, Eyjolf and Thorir, and they were the leading men in that district.*
All the men who have been mentioned were living at the same time, and it was about this time that the best thing ever to have happened in Iceland occurred: the whole country became Christian and the entire population abandoned the old faith.
For six years now, Gunnlaug Serpent-tongue, who was mentioned earlier, had been living partly at Borg with Thorstein and partly at Gilsbakki with his father Illugi. By now, he was eighteen years old, and he and his father were getting on much better.
There was a man named Thorkel the Black. He was a member of Illugi’s household and a close relative of his, and had grown up at Gilsbakki. He came into an inheritance at As in Vatnsdal up in the north, and asked Gunnlaug to go with him to collect it, which he did. They rode north to As together and, thanks to Gunnlaug’s assistance, the men who had Thorkel’s money handed it over to them.
On their way home from the north, they stayed overnight at Grimstungur with a wealthy farmer who was living there. In the morning, a shepherd took Gunnlaug’s horse, which was covered in sweat when they got it back. Gunnlaug knocked the shepherd senseless. The farmer would not leave it at that, and demanded compensation for the blow. Gunnlaug offered to pay him a mark, but the farmer thought that was too little. Then Gunnlaug spoke a verse:
1. A mark to the middle-strong man,
lodgings-lord, I held out in my hand;
you’ll receive a fine silver-grey wire