Heimskringla

by Snorri Sturluson

  Then Thránd spoke as follows: “There is much change in the course of one’s life. When we were young it was uncommon for men who were young and fit, to be lying or sitting [around] in good weather. To men of that time it would not have seemed likely that Thórálf of Dimon was a better man than you. But the cargo ship I own and that stands in the boathouse is getting so old now, I think, that its planks are rotting underneath the tar. Every shed here is full of wool, but it is not offered for sale. That would not be the case if I were some years younger.”

  Sigurth sprang up and called on Gaut and Thórth, saying he could not stand Thránd’s reproaches. They left the house and, the men-servants joining them, went and launched the cargo boat, then had the wares brought out, and loaded the ship. Nor was there any lack of wares or of tackle at the place, so they got the ship ready within a few days. They had a crew of ten or twelve besides themselves. And both Thórálf and they started out with the same wind and always kept in sight of one another across the sea. They made land toward evening at Hernar.1 Sigurth anchored farther outside along the beach, but there was no great distance between them.

  Then this happened: in the evening, when it had become dark, and Thórálf and his men prepared to go to sleep, Thórálf himself, together with another man, went up on land to relieve himself. And when about to return to the ship—as relates the man who accompanied Thórálf—a cloth was thrown over the companion’s head and he was lifted up off the ground. At the same time he heard a crash. Then he was carried off and knocked down. Below him was the sea, and he was flung into it. Yet he managed to come to land and went to the spot where Thórálf and he were separated, and there he found Thórálf dead, with his head cleft down to his shoulders. As soon as the crew found that out they carried his body aboard the ship and kept a wake over it during the night.

  At this time King Óláf was being entertained at Lygra,2 and news of this happening was sent there. Then people were summoned by messengers, and the king came to the assembly. He had summoned the Faroese from both ships, and the crews of both were present. And when the session began, the king arose and spoke as follows: “Things have come to pass here which are of rare occurrence, and better so. A brave man has been killed here, and so far as we know, for no [just] cause. Is there perchance a man here who can tell us who has done this deed?” But no one spoke up. Then the king said, “I shall not conceal from you what I suspect, and that is that we must put the blame for this misdeed on the Faroese [themselves]. It would appear to me that Sigurth Thorláksson slew the man, and that Thórth the Little heaved the other man into the sea. I shall also add that I surmise the reason for their foul deed is that they did not want Thórálf to tell about the misdeeds he probably knew they had committed, to wit, what we have long suspected, the murder and mistreatment of my messengers.”

  Now when the king ceased speaking, Sigurth Thorláksson arose. He said, “I have not spoken before at assemblies. So I believe people will not consider me ready of speech. Yet I think it very necessary to make some answer. I dare say that the speech the king made probably originated with men who are much less wise than he and of worse disposition, and it is plain that they mean to be hostile to us in all respects. It is wholly unlikely that I should want to be the killer of Thórálf, because he was my foster brother and my good friend. And even if circumstances had been different and there had been cause for hostility between Thórálf and me, I have wits enough about me to have dared to commit this crime at home in the Faroes rather than right here, sir king, where I am in your power. Now therefore I want to deny, both for myself and all my crew, any complicity in this deed. I will swear oaths upon that according to your laws. And if you think more confirmation necessary, I offer to prove my innocence by undergoing the ordeal of carrying glowing iron. And I would want you yourself to be present when I clear myself.”

  When Sigurth ceased speaking, many pleaded for him and requested the king to let Sigurth take the test for his innocence. They considered that Sigurth had spoken well and declared him not guilty of the misdeed attributed to him. The king said, “About this man one might have widely different opinions. If he is falsely accused in this he is likely to be a good man; but if the opposite is true, then he must be a man of unexampled audacity—and my guess is that the latter is the case. But I suppose he shall himself have to bear witness [of either].” And at the supplication of many the king allowed Sigurth to make pledge that he would undergo the ordeal. He was to return to Lygra the day following, and the bishop was to prepare for the ordeal. And so the meeting broke up. The king returned to Lygra, and Sigurth and his companions to their ship.

  It soon began to grow dark with approaching night. Then Sigurth said to his crew, “To say the truth, we have got into great difficulties and have been basely slandered. This king is crafty and deceitful, and it is easy to see what will be our fate if he prevails; for first he had Thórálf slain and now wants to brand us as evildoers and criminals. It will be easy for him to falsify this ordeal. I would consider it dangerous to risk that with him. And now there is a light breeze from the mountains along the sound. I advise that we hoist our sail and make for the open sea. Let Thránd have his wool sold for him another summer. But if I get away, there is little expectation that I shall ever come to Norway again.” His crew thought that was a wise counsel. They hoisted the sail and made for the open sea the fastest they could during the night. They did not stop before they arrived in the Faroes and came home to Gata. Thránd was ill-pleased with their voyage. They answered him in kind, yet stayed with Thránd.

  Chapter 136. The Icelanders Refuse to Pay Tribute to King Óláf

  King Óláf immediately learned that Sigurth and his companions had taken themselves off; and heavy suspicions were voiced concerning their case. Now many who had before denied it said that it was most likely that Sigurth and his men were guilty. King Óláf did not say much about the case, but he thought he knew the truth of what before he had suspected. So he proceeded on his way, accepting the entertainment arranged for him.

  King Óláf summoned for a conference the men who had come to him from Iceland: Thórodd Snorrason, Gellir Thorkelsson, Stein Skaptason, and Egil Hallsson. The king spoke to them as follows: “You mentioned to me this summer that you wanted to make ready and return to Iceland, but I had so far come to no final decision about that. Now I shall tell you what are my intentions. You, Gellir, I want to journey to Iceland if you will deliver my message there. But as to the other Icelanders here, no one of you is to return there until I learn how the message is accepted which you, Gellir, are to deliver there.”

  When the king had voiced his intentions, those who were eager to travel [home] but had been forbidden, considered they were being meanly treated and that their condition was an ill one, amounting to their being deprived of their liberty. But Gellir got himself ready for the journey and in summer sailed to Iceland. He had with him the message of the king, that he requested the Icelanders to adopt the laws he had given in Norway; also, to pay him weregild for any subject of his slain [in Iceland]; also a poll-tax of one penny, worth one tenth of an ell of homespun. He furthermore promised them his friendship if they would assent to those conditions, or else hard terms whenever he would be able to enforce them.

  The Icelanders deliberated for a long time about this matter, and finally it was agreed by all to refuse paying any taxes and all the imposts the king had demanded. And Gellir that same summer travelled to Norway and sought out King Óláf who was at Vík that fall after having come to the seashore from Gautland, as I expect will be told later in the saga of King Óláf. But as the season wore on, the king proceeded north to Trondheim, steering his fleet to Nitharós where he had preparations made to 1026 reside during the winter. King Óláf resided in the town during the following winter. That was the thirteenth year of his reign.

  Chapter 137. The Jamtalanders Decide to Pay Their Tribute to Sweden

  A certain man was called Ketil of Jamtaland who was the son of Earl Onund o
f Sparabú in the District of Trondheim. He had fled the rule of King Eystein the Wicked, going east over the Keel. There he had cleared the forests and cultivated the land which is now called Jamtaland. A great number of people also fled to the east from Trondheim because of the troubles caused by King Eystein’s laying the people there under tribute and setting over them as king his dog, called Saur. Ketil’s grandson was Thórir Helsing, after whom Helsingjaland was named, because it was cultivated by him. Now when Harald Fairhair subjugated Norway, a great number of people in like manner fled the country, people both from Trondheim and Naumu Dale, when further settlements were founded in Jamtaland to the east. Some went all the way to Helsingjaland by the Baltic, and they became the subjects of the Swedish kings.1

  But when Hákon, the foster son of Æthelstān, was king of Norway, peace and trade were established between Trondheim and Jamtaland; and because of the popularity of the king the people of Jamtaland came to him, declaring their fealty to him and paying him tribute. He established their laws and statutes. They preferred his rule to that of the Swedish kings, because they were Norwegians by descent. And so did all those of Helsingjaland whose origin was north [west] of the Keel. And this relation lasted for a long time afterwards, until Óláf the Stout and Óláf, the king of Sweden, quarrelled about the division of lands between them. At that time the people of Jamtaland and Helsingjaland changed their allegiance to be under the king of Sweden, so that the boundary [between the kingdoms] ran from the Eith Forest in the east along the Keel all the way north to Finnmark. Then the king of Sweden levied tribute both from Helsingjaland and from Jamtaland. But King Óláf thought that, according to the agreement between him and the king of Sweden, the tribute from Jamtaland was to go in another direction, as had been the case of old. Yet [as a fact] for a long time the people of Jamtaland had paid their dues to the king of Sweden, and the stewards over them had come from there. So the Swedes would not have it any other way than that all the land east of the Keel belonged to the king of Sweden. It was then, as often is the case, that even though there was relationship and [even] friendship between kings, yet both of them would have all the lands they considered they had a claim to. King Óláf [the Stout] had sent word to Jamtaland that it was his will that the people there should declare their allegiance to him, or else he would use force against them. However, they had decided that they wanted to be subject to the king of Sweden.

  Chapter 138. Stein Slays Thorgeir and Seeks Refuge with Ragnhild

  Thórodd Snorrason and Stein Skaptason were greatly dissatisfied that they were not permitted to travel as they pleased. Stein Skaptason was a very handsome man, greatly skilled in bodily accomplishments, a good poet, very fond of fine clothes, and most enterprising. His father, Skapti,1 had composed a drápa about King Óláf and had taught it to Stein. It was the intention that he should recite the poem to the king. Stein did not refrain from saying things in reproach of the king both in his speech and in verse. Both he and Thórodd were incautious in their speech and said that the king would fare worse than they who had sent their sons to him in good faith, whereas the king deprived them of their liberty. The king became furious [when he heard of this]. One day, when Stein Skaptason was in the presence of the king and asked for permission to recite the drápa which his father, Skapti, had composed about him, the king said, “First, Stein, I would hear you recite the poem you have composed about me.”

  Stein replied that what he had composed amounted to nothing. “I am no skald, sire,” he said, “and even if I could indite a poem, it would seem of no importance to you just like other things about me.” And then Stein went his way, but he thought he knew what the king alluded to.2

  Thorgeir was the name of one of the king’s bailiffs who managed an estate of his in Orka Dale. At the time, he was at the court and had listened to the conversation between the king and Stein. Not long after that, Thorgeir journeyed home. One night, Stein escaped from the town, and his page with him. They travelled across Gaular Ridge3 and continued on their way till they came to Orka Dale, arriving in the evening at the royal estate which Thorgeir managed. Thorgeir invited Stein to stay there for the night and asked what the purpose of his journey was. Stein asked him to let him have a horse and a sleigh. He saw that they had been bringing in the grain.

  Thorgeir said, “I do not know about the nature of your journey, and whether you are travelling by the king’s permission. It seemed to me some little while ago that your exchange of words with the king was not very peaceful.”

  Stein said, “Though I am not my own master as against the king, I shall not be so as against his thralls.” With that he drew his sword and killed the bailiff, then took the horse and bade his man jump on its back. Stein himself seated himself in the sleigh, and so they went their way, driving all the night. They journeyed on till they came down in Súrna Dale in Mœr. There they obtained passage over the fjord. They travelled as fast as they could, without telling people about the slaying of Thorgeir, but calling themselves men in the king’s employ. They received good help wherever they came.

  One day in the evening they arrived at Gizki,4 the estate of Thorberg Árnason. He was not at home, but his wife, Ragnhild, the daughter of Erling Skjálgsson, was. There, Stein got a cordial reception, for she had been very well acquainted with him from before.

  It had been this way: when Stein had arrived from Iceland on the ship he owned himself, and made land at Gizki, anchoring by the island, Ragnhild was in the throes of childbirth and had a very difficult time. There was no priest on the island nor anywhere in the neighborhood. Then messengers were sent to the merchantman to inquire if perchance there was a priest on board. Now there was a priest on the ship, one called Bárth. He hailed from the Westfirth District [in Iceland] and was a young and not particularly learned man. The messengers requested this priest to go with them up to the house. It seemed to him that this might turn out to be a very difficult business as he was conscious of his ignorance, so he refused to go. Then Stein put in a word with the priest and asked him to go. The priest answered, “I shall go if you go with me. For then I shall have more confidence if I have you to advise me.” Stein said he would be glad to do so.

  Then they went up to the estate where Ragnhild lived. A short time thereafter she gave birth to a girl child which appeared very weak. So the priest baptized the infant while Stein held the babe during baptismal service. It was named Thóra. Stein gave the infant a gold finger ring.5 Ragnhild promised Stein her cordial friendship and told him to look her up if he thought he needed her help. Stein said that he would not hold any more girl children during baptism, and with that they parted. But now it had come to pass that Stein reminded her of her kind words and told her what had happened and that he had incurred the wrath of the king. She replied that she would assist him to the best of her ability and asked him to wait till Thorberg returned. Meanwhile she assigned him a seat next to her son, Eystein Orri. He was twelve years old at that time. Stein made presents to both Ragnhild and Eystein.

  Thorberg had learned about Stein’s doings before his return and was very much put out. Ragnhild went to speak with him, told him about what Stein had done, and asked him to take in Stein and do what he could to assist him. Thorberg said, “I have learned that the king has had a meeting summoned by arrow-message when he learned of the killing of Thorgeir and that Stein has been declared an outlaw; also, that the king is most furious. And I have more sense than to protect a foreigner and draw upon myself the wrath of the king. Let Stein get himself gone from here at once.”

  Ragnhild replied that both she and Stein would leave or else both stay. Thorberg asked her to go wherever she pleased. “I expect,” he said, “that though you go you will soon return, because nowhere else will you have as much to say.” Thereupon Eystein Orri, their son, came forward. He declared that he would not remain behind if Ragnhild departed. Thorberg said they showed much obstinacy and a hot temper in behaving in this fashion. “And it seems best to let you two have your way in
this matter since it appears of such importance to you. But you take all too much after your family, Ragnhild, in not heeding what King Óláf says.”

  Ragnhild replied, “If you are afraid to lend Stein your assistance, then why not go with him to my father Erling, or else give him enough attendants along so that he may get there unharmed?” Thorberg replied that he would not send Stein there, “because Erling has trouble enough on his hands in his dealings with the king.”

  Stein remained there during the winter. But after Yule messengers of the king came to Thorberg requesting him to report to him before 1027 Mid-Lent, and they laid great stress on it. Thorberg brought this up before his friends, asking for their advice whether he should risk going to see the king, considering how matters stood. Most of them advised against it, holding it wisest to get rid of Stein before putting himself in the power of the king. Thorberg was more inclined to do the latter and not delay about getting started.

  Some little time afterwards Thorberg looked up his brother Finn and brought the matter up before him, asking him to go along. Finn replied that he thought it unfortunate to have such a domineering wife that, on account of her, he did not dare to keep his pledge to his king. “Of course you have the choice whether or not to go with me,” said Thorberg, “but I am thinking that you will not, more out of fear than because of loyalty to the king.”

  They parted in a dudgeon. Thereupon Thorberg looked up Árni Árnason, [another] brother of his, told him how matters stood, and asked him to go with him before the king. Árni said, “It seems strange to me that so wise and circumspect a man as you have got yourself in such an unfortunate situation as to call down upon yourself the wrath of the king when there was no need to. It would have been understandable if you had given aid to a kinsman or foster brother, but not at all that you have supported an Ice-lander outlawed by the king and thus endangered all your kinsmen.”