Salvor.—The ships that are to be used for carrying our war into the Westfirths this spring?
Thorolf.—Yes. This spring we shall lay waste the Westfirths, kill cattle and people, burn down storehouses, farms, and churches, and slay all men we overtake. Thord shall not be able to hold himself there thereafter.
Salvor.—Holy mother of God! Why are the people to suffer all that misery and affliction! Have there not been enough maimings and killings in the Westfirths? Be mindful, Thorolf, that you, too, may be taken captive and your bright coat of mail get a red collar.
Thorolf.—Often have I thought of it. But he who lets himself be kept back by such thoughts had better never venture into danger.
Helga.—Go now, Salvor, and attend to the patient! (Exit SALVOR.) The life of my husband is in great danger!
Thorolf. (coming close to her).—And shall I then become the Lord of Eyafirth?
Helga (motioning him away).—Kolbein the Young still lives. Whilst he is living the disposition of the dominions remains his matter. It may well be, though, that I succeed in making him give you Eyafirth, and then more people from here would settle there than are there now. Then I shall foster up young Kalf, the son of Brand, because he will inherit Skagafirth from his father; and while he is young, and I gain influence over him, it may happen that the men of Skagafirth and Eyafirth would work in unison in all undertakings, and rule the entire country alone.
Thorolf.—Certainly! Certainly!
Helga.—Swear allegiance to me, Thorolf!
Thorolf.—I have ever been faithful to you.