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:—