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“When the workers of wounds are returning,
And with them the sacrifice reddened,
Then a lady in raiment of linen,
Who loved me, time was,—she will ask:—
My ring,—have ye robbed me?—where is it?
—I have wrought them no little displeasure:
For the swain that is swarthy has won it,
The son of old Ogmund, the skald.”
It fell out as he guessed. Steingerd was very angry because they had sold her ring.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE. How Cormac Beat Thorvard Again.
After that, Thorvard was soon healed, and when he thought he was strong again, he rode to Mel and challenged Cormac to the holmgang.
“It takes thee long to tire of it,” said Cormac: “but I'll not say thee nay.”
So they went to the fight, and Thordis met Thorvard now as before, but Cormac sought no help from her. She blunted Cormac's sword, so that it would not bite, but yet he struck so great a stroke on Thorvard's shoulder that the collarbone was broken and his hand was good for nothing. Being so maimed he could fight no longer, and had to pay another ring for his ransom.
Then Thorolf of Spakonufell set upon Cormac and struck at him. He warded off the blow and sang this song:—
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“This reddener of shields, feebly wrathful,
His rusty old sword waved against me,
Who am singer and sacred to Odin!
Go, snuffle, most wretched of men, thou!
A thrust of thy sword is as thewless
As thou, silly stirrer of battle.
What danger to me from thy daring,
Thou doited old witch-woman's carle?”
Then he killed a bull in sacrifice according to use and wont, saying, “Ill we brook your overbearing and the witchcraft of Thordis:” and he made this song:—