CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR. How They All Went Out To Norway.
Now all the winter long Cormac and Thorgils laid up their ship in Hrutafiord; but in spring the chapmen were off to sea, and so the brothers made up their minds for the voyage. When they were ready to start, Cormac went to see Steingerd: and before they two parted he kissed her twice, and his kisses were not at all hasty. The Tinker would not have it; and so friends on both sides came in, and it was settled that Cormac should pay for this that he had done.
“How much?” asked he.
“The two rings that I parted with,” said Thorvard. Then Cormac made a song:—
(75)
“Here is gold of the other's well gleaming
In guerdon for this one and that one,—
Here is treasure of Fafnir the fire-drake
In fee for the kiss of my lady.
Never wearer of ring, never wielder
Of weapon has made such atonement;
Never dearer were deeply-drawn kisses,—
For the dream of my bliss is betrayed.”
And then, when he started to go aboard his ship he made another song:—
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“One song from my heart would I send her
Ere we shall, ere I leave her and lose her,
That dainty one, decked in her jewels
Who dwells in the valley of Swindale.
And each word that I utter shall enter
The ears of that lady of bounty,
Saying—Bright one, my beauty, I love thee,
Ah, better by far than my life!”
So Cormac went abroad and his brother Thorgils went with him; and when they came to the king's court they were made welcome.
Now it is told that Steingerd spoke to Thorvald the Tinker that they also should abroad together. He answered that it was mere folly, but nevertheless he could not deny her. So they set off on their voyage: and as they made their way across the sea, they were attacked by vikings who fell on them to rob them and to carry away Steingerd. But it so happened that Cormac heard of it; and he made after them and gave good help, so that they saved everything that belonged to them, and came safely at last to the court of the king of Norway.
One day Cormac was walking in the street, and spied Steingerd sitting within doors. So he went into the house and sat down beside her, and they had a talk together which ended in his kissing her four kisses. But Thorvald was on the watch. He drew his sword, but the women-folk rushed in to part them, and word was sent to King Harald. He said they were very troublesome people to keep in order.—“But let me settle this matter between you,” said he; and they agreed.
Then spake the king:—“One kiss shall be atoned for by this, that Cormac helped you to get safely to land. The next kiss is Cormac's, because he saved Steingerd. For the other two he shall pay two ounces of gold.”
Upon which Cormac sang the same song that he had made before:—
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“Here is gold of the otter's well gleaming
In guerdon for this one and that one,—
Here is treasure of Fafnir the fire-drake
In fee for the kiss of my lady.
Never wearer of ring, never wielder
Of weapon has made such atonement;
Never dearer were deeply-drawn kisses—
And the dream of my bliss is betrayed.”
Another day he was walking in the street and met Steingerd again. He turned to her and prayed her to walk with him. She would not; whereupon he laid hand on her, to lead her along. She cried out for help; and as it happened, the king was standing not far off, and went up to them. He thought this behaviour most unseemly, and took her away, speaking sharply to Cormac. King Harald made himself very angry over this affair; but Cormac was one of his courtiers, and it was not long before he got into favour again, and then things went fair and softly for the rest of the winter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE. How They Cruised With The King's Fleet, And Quarrelled, And Made It Up.
In the following spring King Harald set forth to the land of Permia with a great host. Cormac was one of the captains in that warfaring, and in another ship was Thorvald: the other captains of ships are not named in our story.
Now as they were all sailing in close order through a narrow sound, Cormac swung his steering-oar and hit Thorvald a clout on the ear, so that he fell from his place at the helm in a swoon; and Cormac's ship hove to, when she lost her rudder. Steingerd had been sitting beside Thorvald; she laid hold of the tiller, and ran Cormac down. When he saw what she was doing, he sang:—
(78)
“There is one that is nearer and nigher
To the noblest of dames than her lover:
With the haft of the helm is he smitten
On the hat-block—and fairly amidships!
The false heir of Eystein—he falters—
He falls in the poop of his galley!
Nay! steer not upon me, O Steingerd,
Though stoutly ye carry the day!”
So Cormac's ship capsized under him; but his crew were saved without loss of time, for there were plenty of people round about. Thorvald soon came round again, and they all went on their way. The king offered to settle the matter between them; and when they both agreed, he gave judgment that Thorvald's hurt was atoned for by Cormac's upset.
In the evening they went ashore; and the king and his men sat down to supper. Cormac was sitting outside the door of a tent, drinking out of the same cup with Steingerd. While they were busy at it, a young fellow for mere sport and mockery stole the brooch out of Cormac's fur cloak, which he had doffed and laid aside; and when he came to take his cloak again, the brooch was gone. He sprang up and rushed after the young fellow, with the spear that he called Vigr (the spear) and shot at him, but missed. This was the song he made about it:—
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“The youngster has pilfered my pin,
As I pledged the gay dame in the beaker;
And now must we brawl for a brooch
Like boys when they wrangle and tussle.
Right well have I shafted my spear,
Though I shot nothing more than the gravel:
But sure, if I missed at my man,
The moss has been prettily slaughtered!”
After this they went on their way to the land of Permia, and after that they went home again to Norway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX. How Cormac Saved Steingerd Once More From Pirates; And How They Parted For Good And All.
Thorvald the Tinker fitted out his ship for a cruise to Denmark, and Steingerd sailed with him. A little afterwards the brothers set out on the same voyage, and late one evening they made the Brenneyjar.
There they saw Thorvald's ship riding, and found him aboard with part of his crew; but they had been robbed of all their goods, and Steingerd had been carried off by Vikings. Now the leader of those Vikings was Thorstein, the son of that Asmund Ashenside, the old enemy of Ogmund, the father of Cormac and Thorgils.
So Thorvald and Cormac met, and Cormac asked how came it that his voyage had been so unlucky.
“Things have not turned out for the best, indeed,” said he.
“What is the matter?” asked Cormac. “Is Steingerd missing?”
“She is gone,” said Thorvald, “and all our goods.”
“Why don't you go after her?” asked Cormac.
“We are not strong enough,” said Thorvald.
“Do you mean to say you can't?” said Cormac.
“We have not the means to fight Thorstein,” said Thorvald. “But if thou hast, go in and fight for thy own hand.”
“I will,” said Cormac.
So at nightfall the brothers went in a boat and rowed to the Viking fleet, and boarded Thorstein's ship. Steingerd was in the cabin on the poop; she had been allotted to one of the Vikings; but most of the crew were ashore round the cooking-fires. Cormac got the story out of the men who were cooking, and they told all the brothers wanted to know. They clambered on board by the ladder; Thorgils dragged the bridegroom out to the gunwale, and Cormac cut him down then and there. Then he dived into the sea with Steingerd and swam ashore; but when he was nearing the land a swarm of eels twisted round his hands and feet, so that he was dragged under. On which he made this song:—
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“They came at me yonder in crowds,
O kemp of the shield-serpents' wrangle!
When I fared on my way through the flood,
That flock of the wights of the water.
And ne'er to the gate of the gods
Had I got me, if there had I perished;
Yet once and again have I won,
Little woman, thy safety in peril!”
So he swam ashore and brought Steingerd back to her husband.
Thorvald bade Steingerd to go, at last, along with Cormac, for he had fairly won her, and manfully. That was what he, too, desired, said Cormac; but “Nay,” said Steingerd, “she would not change knives.”
“Well,” said Cormac, “it was plain that this was not to be. Evil beings,” he said, “ill luck, had parted them long ago.” And he made this song:—
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“Nay, count not the comfort had brought me,
Fair queen of the ring, thy embrace!
Go, mate with the man of thy choosing,
Scant mirth will he get of thy grace!
Be dearer henceforth to thy dastard,
False dame of the coif, than to me;—
I have spoken the word; I have sung it;—
I have said my last farewell to thee.”
And so he bade her begone with her husband.