(Enter THOROLF.)
Thorolf.—Hail, lady! How is the chieftain's health?
Helga.—Rather good! Salvor says he will not be able to bear going into war for the first.
Thorolf.—Kolbein has a-plenty of men to lead his troops.
Salvor.—Brand Kolbeinsson—
Thorolf.—He, the velvet glove! Whilst Kolbein was on his foray to Reykholar and slew Tumi—a feat now famous—Brand was to dispatch old Sturla Thordsson—the fellow who mostly goes about with ink on his fingers. But Sturla gulled him so that Brand had to return with shame. Brand lacks both forethought before battle and that fire in battle which wins the victory.
Salvor.—Brand Kolbeinsson is a man of peace.
Helga.—You shall stay here at Flugumyr now, Thorolf, whilst my husband is in ill health. Brand Kolbeinsson would be but a low wall between us and Thord Kakali, should he advance from the West.
Thorolf.—So long have I been one of your household, my lady, that I am bound to obey. But who shall take care of the shipbuilding which I have under way for Kolbein the Young?
Helga.—Your wife Arnfrid; for this is not a place for women to be at.