Thorolf (laughs).—Last I saw her at the slaying of Kalf Guttormsson, her father, and of Guttorm, her brother.
Sigurd.—Much good reason has my lady if she cares to see you no more.
Einar.—You are the man who most egged on to the deed, that father and son should be slain.
Thorolf.—No, Urækja it was, the son of Snorri Sturlason. A most useful deed it was. Ever since Kolbein's men have obeyed his commands without gainsaying.
Einar.—More useful still, I suppose you think that you snatched from out of Kalf's hands the crucifix he held when kneeling to receive the mortal stroke.
Thorolf.—His blood would have spurted on the cross, had it been held so near. (Wrathfully.) And likewise would I do to you, Einar the Rich, if Kolbein struck off your head. Your wife is a kinswoman of Thord Kakali, and dreamt have I that you will find an earlier grave than will I.
Einar.—An evil business it is to threaten me with death. No one knows who will be buried first. A faithful follower of Kolbein I have been.
Thorolf.—'Scarce shall I trust you,
Troll, quoth Haustkoll.'
Sigurd.—Wicked speech this is and witless.
(Enter BRAND KOLBEINSSON, BRODDI THORLEIFSSON, HELGI SKAFTASON, and others.)