The Story Of Gunnlaug The Worm-Tongue And Raven The Skald Part 8

CHAPTER XVII. The News of the Fight brought to Iceland.

Now this summer, before these tidings were brought out hither to Iceland, Illugi the Black, being at home at Gilsbank, dreamed a dream: he thought that Gunnlaug came to him in his sleep, all b.l.o.o.d.y, and he sang in the dream this stave before him; and Illugi remembered the song when he woke, and sang it before others:--

"Knew I of the hewing Of Raven's hilt-finned steel-fish Byrny-shearing--sword-edge Sharp clave leg of Raven.-- Of warm wounds drank the eagle, When the war-rod slender, Cleaver of the corpses, Clave the head of Gunnlaug."

This portent befel south at Mossfell, the self-same night, that Onund dreamed how Raven came to him, covered all over with blood, and sang:--

"Red is the sword, but I now Am undone by Sword-Odin.

'Gainst s.h.i.+elds beyond the sea-flood The ruin of s.h.i.+elds was wielded.

Methinks the blood-fowl blood-stained In blood der men's heads stood there, The wound-erne yet wound-eager Trod over wounded bodies?"

Now the second summer after this, Illugi the Black spoke at the Althing from the Hill of Laws, and said:--

"Wherewith wilt thou make atonement to me for my son, whom Raven, thy son, beguiled in his troth?"

Onund answers, "Be it far from me to atone for him, so sorely as their meeting hath wounded me. Yet will I not ask atonement of thee for my son."

"Then shall my wrath come home to some of thy kin," says Illugi. And withal after the Thing was Illugi at most times very sad.

Tells the tale how this autumn Illugi rode from Gilsbank with thirty men, and came to Mossfell early in the morning. Then Onund got into the church with his sons, and took sanctuary; but Illugi caught two of his kin, one called Biorn and the other Thorgrim, and had Biorn slain, but the feet smitten from Thorgrim. And thereafter Illugi rode home, and there was no righting of this for Onund.

Hermund, Illugi's son, had little joy after the death of Gunnlaug his brother, and deemed he was none the more avenged even though this had been wrought.

Now there was a man called Raven, brother's son to Onund of Mossfell; he was a great sea-farer, and had a s.h.i.+p that lay up in Ramfirth: and in the spring Hermund Illugison rode from home alone north over Holt-beacon Heath, even to Ramfirth, and out as far as Board-ere to the s.h.i.+p of the chapmen. The chapmen were then nearly ready for sea; Raven, the s.h.i.+p-master, was on sh.o.r.e, and many men with him; Hermund rode up to him, and thrust him through with his spear, and rode away forthwith: but all Raven's men were bewildered at seeing Hermund.

No atonement came for this slaying, and therewith ended the dealings of Illugi the Black and Onund of Mossfell.

CHAPTER XVIII. The Death of Helga the Fair.

AS time went on, Thorstein Egilson married his daughter Helga to a man called Thorkel, son of Hallkel, who lived west in Hraundale. Helga went to his house with him, but loved him little, for she cannot cease to think of Gunnlaug, though he be dead. Yet was Thorkel a doughty man, and wealthy of goods, and a good skald.

They had children together not a few, one of them was called Thorarin, another Thorstein, and yet more they had.

But Helga's chief joy was to pluck at the threads of that cloak, Gunnlaug's gift, and she would be ever gazing at it.

But on a time there came a great sickness to the house of Thorkel and Helga, and many were bed-ridden for a long time. Helga also fell sick, and yet she could not keep abed.

So one Sat.u.r.day evening Helga sat in the fire-hall, and leaned her head upon her husband's knees, and had the cloak Gunnlaug's gift sent for; and when the cloak came to her she sat up and plucked at it, and gazed thereon awhile, and then sank back upon her husband's bosom, and was dead. Then Thorkel sang this:--

"Dead in mine arms she droopeth, My dear one, gold-rings bearer, For G.o.d hath changed the life-days Of this Lady of the linen.

Weary pain hath pined her, But unto me, the seeker Of h.o.a.rd of fishes highway, Abiding here is wearier."

Helga was buried in the church there, but Thorke dwelt yet at Hraundale: but a great matter seemed the death of Helga to all, as was to be looked for.

AND HERE ENDETH THE STORY.