The Story of the Burning
(NIAL’S SAGA)
What was the Story of the Burning that Gunnar was telling to Earl
Sigurd, and for his share in which he lost his head by Kari’s stroke?
Of all the sagas of Iceland the most famous and the best known is the
saga of Njal, or, as it is sometimes called, the Story of the Burning.
Njal or Nial is an Irish name, and there may have been some Irish
mixture in his descent, though this is not proved from his genealogy.
He was well known to be the wisest and best of Icelanders, and he was
so learned a lawyer that all men desired his advice when any case came
before the Court of Laws. He was clear in his judgments, and on that
account it was believed that he could see into the future; people said
that he had the “second-sight” and could foretell what would happen.
Kind and generous too he was and always ready to help a friend in need.
His wife was Bergthora, a brave, high-spirited woman, and they had
three daughters and three sons; the names of the sons were Skarphedinn,
Grim, and Helgi. They had, moreover, a foster-son, Hoskuld, whom Nial
loved better than his own sons. Nial’s sons and Hoskuld were never
apart, and what the one thought or did the other did likewise.
The desire of travel came upon Nial’s sons when they were men, and Grim
and Helgi fared abroad, and were away five winters, part in Orkney and
part in Norway (989–994). They were well received in Orkney by Earl
Sigurd the Stout, for he found them to be bold and trustworthy men, and
he took them into his bodyguard, and gave Helgi a gold ring and mantle
and Grim a shield and sword. It was in the Western Isles that they met
Kari, Solmund’s son, who gave them help and brought them to the earl,
and was ever their friend; and together they fought for Earl Sigurd
against the Scots in Caithness, and against Godred, King of the Isle
of Man, and everywhere they were successful and got renown. When their
time of sea-roving was past they busked them for Iceland, and Kari with
them; and Kari was there that winter with Nial, and asked his daughter
Helga to wife, and when they were married they were much with Nial, for
he was now an old man, and he liked to have his children about him.
This was the more needful, for now when he was seventy winters old
troubles began to fall upon Nial and his sons. Evil men envied their
prosperity, and hated Nial the more that all spake honourably of him
and praised the valour and uprightness of his sons. These men of bad
feeling went about to separate the old man from his friends and stir up
suspicion against him, and it was thought likely that for all he was
aged, and the justest of counsellors and a friend whom no backbiting
could shake even when his friendship was sorely tried, his own prophecy
of himself would come true, and that his end would be far from that
which anyone could guess. But things went quietly for a time, because
it was hard to bring a cause of complaint against Nial. At last they
thought that they had found a handle to turn against him when he
erected a new Court of Law in the island, which he called the Fifth
Court; to this appeals might be made when for any reason a decision on
a case was not come to at one of the Quarter Courts then established in
Iceland. For there were many suits pleaded in the Quarter Court that
were so entangled that no way could be seen out of them, and many said
that they lost time in pleading their suits when no decision was come
to, and that they preferred to seek their rights “with point and edge”
of sword, and to fight it out; so that there was danger of anarchy in
the country. But Nial’s plan was to refer these disputed cases to a
higher court for its decision. But though all agreed that this was a
wise plan, many of the judges in the old Quarter Courts were annoyed
that their authority was lowered and the supreme jurisdiction given
to the new court, in which were to be placed only the wisest and best
men; and what angered them still more was that one of these new judges
was Hoskuld, Nial’s foster-son. In the time of paganism there were no
clergy such as we have to-day, but the chief of each large clan or
family was its priest, and there was only a fixed number of priests in
each district, men who were regarded as the head-men or chiefs of that
Quarter. So long as the old faith remained in the land it was the head
of the family who offered the sacrifices for his own people. Hoskuld
was made a judge in the new court, and he got the priesthood with it;
he was called the Priest of Whiteness. His judgments were so just that
many men refused to plead in the other courts and went to have their
suits pleaded before Hoskuld’s court. Out of this jealousies arose,
and above all two enemies of Nial, Valgard the Guileful and his son
Mord, were angry because their court was left empty, while Hoskuld’s
was full. One night Valgard was sitting over the fire when his son Mord
came in. Valgard looked up at him and said: “If I were a younger man
I should not be sitting here very busy doing nothing while the court
of Hoskuld is crowded with suitors; and now I regret that I gave up my
priesthood to thee; I see thou wilt take no action to support it; but
I, if I were young, would work things so that I would drag them all
down to death, Nial and all his sons together.”
“I do not see,” said Mord, “how that is to be done.”
“My plan is,” said Valgard the Guileful, “that you should make great
friendship with Nial’s own sons. Ask them to thy house and give them
gifts when they leave, and win their trust and goodwill, so that they
shall come to have confidence in thee as much as they have in one
another. For awhile say nothing that shall arouse suspicion of thy
friendship, but when once they are won over, begin little by little to
sow discord between them and Hoskuld, and keep on tale-bearing to each
of the other, so that they will be set by the ears, and will end by
killing Hoskuld and then it is likely that they themselves will fall in
the blood-feud that will arise from his death, and so we shall get rid
of all of them, and thou mayest seize the chieftainship when they are
all dead and gone.”
“It will not be easy to do this,” answered Mord, “for Hoskuld is so
much beloved that no one will believe any ill of him. Moreover, he and
Nial’s sons, his foster-brothers, are so warm in friendship together
that they are always in each other’s company and support each other in
every way. Still, I will see what can be done, for Nial and his sons
are no dearer to me, father, than they are to thee.”
From that time forward Mord was much at Nial’s house, and he struck
up a great friendship with Skarphedinn, and said he would willingly
see more of him. Skarphedinn took it all well, though he said that he
had never sought for anything of the kind before; and he encouraged
Mord to come backward and forward, so that often they spent whole days
together; but Nial disliked his coming, for he distrusted the man, and
often he was rather short with him.
This was while Grim and Helgi were sea-roving. But when they came home
Mord said he would like to give a great feast in their honour, because
they had been long away. They promised to go, and he called together
a crowded feast, and at their going away he gave them handsome gifts,
with a brooch of gold to Skarphedinn, and a silver belt also to Kari.
They went home well pleased, and showed their gifts to Nial. But all he
said was: “Ye will pay full dearly for those gifts before all is done.”
From that time Mord began to drop hints to Nial’s sons that Hoskuld
was not dealing fairly with them, and to Hoskuld he told many tales of
slighting words spoken about him by Nial’s sons. At first they paid
little attention to it, but after a while, as these stories grew (and
Mord had ever a new one when they met), a coldness sprang up between
the sons and Hoskuld, and he came less often to their house, and when
they met they scarcely spoke together. But Hoskuld knew not what to
think, for he loved his foster-brothers well, and he found it hard to
believe that they had the designs on him that Mord made out. One day,
when Mord had brought him a new story that Skarphedinn carried an axe
under his belt, intending to take an opportunity to kill him, Hoskuld
broke out angrily: “I tell you this, Mord, right out, that whatever
ill-tales you tell me of Nial’s sons, you will never get me to credit
them; but supposing such things were true, and it became a question
between us whether I must slay them or they me, I tell thee that far
rather would I be slain by them than work the least harm to them. A bad
man thou art, with these tales of thine.”
Mord bit his lip, and knew not what to answer, but soon after that he
went to Nial’s house and fell a-talking to Kari and Skarphedinn in
a low voice, telling them all sorts of evil of Hoskuld, worse than
before, and egging them on to kill him that very evening. He said
that if they did not kill Hoskuld he would kill him himself for their
honour. So he got his way with them, and bound them to meet him that
night with their weapons and ride down to Hoskuld’s house at Ossaby.
That night Skarphedinn did not lie down to rest, nor his brothers, nor
Kari.
Then Bergthora, Nial’s wife, said to her husband: “What are our sons
talking about out of doors?”
“In the old days when their counsels were good,” said Nial, “seldom was
I left out of them, but now they make their plans alone, and tell me
nothing of them.”
That night when it was dark the sons of Nial and Kari arose and rode
to Ossaby, their weapons in their hands. They stopped under the fence
that encircled Hoskuld’s house, hidden from sight. The weather was good
and the sun just risen.
Now it happened that about that time Hoskuld, the Priest of Whiteness,
awoke, and put on his clothes and flung about his shoulders a new
crimson cloak embroidered to the waist, which Flosi, his wife’s uncle,
had given him. He took his corn-sieve and walked along the fence,
sowing the corn as he went; but in his left hand he carried his sword.
Skarphedinn and the others sprang up as he came near, and made a rush
at him, but Hoskuld, seeing them, tried to turn away. It is not said
that he defended himself with his sword from Skarphedinn.
Then Skarphedinn ran up, crying out: “Do not try to turn on thy heel,
Whiteness Priest,” and with that he hewed at him, smiting him on the
head with such a blow that he fell on his knees.
“God help me, and forgive you,” said Hoskuld, as one after the other
they thrust him through.
Then Mord slipped off as fast as he could, and gave out through the
country that Nial’s sons had slain their foster-brother, Hoskuld, but
nothing was said about his own part in the matter.
The day was not far gone when he gathered men together to go down with
him to Ossaby, to bear witness of the deed, and he showed them the
wounds, and said that this wound was dealt by Skarphedinn, the next by
Helgi or Grim, the next by Kari, and so on; but there was one wound
that he said he knew not who dealt it, for that wound was made by
himself. He it was who set on foot the law against the sons of Nial.
But the sons of Nial rode home, and Kari with them, and they told Nial
the tidings. “Sorrowful are these tidings, and ill to hear,” said Nial,
“and this grief touches me very nearly. Methinks I would have given two
of my own sons to have had my foster-son alive.”
“We will excuse thy words,” said Skarphedinn, “seeing that thou art
an old man, and it was to be expected that this loss would touch thee
closely.”
“It is true that I am weak and aged,” said Nial; “but my age will not
prevent what is to follow.”
“What is to follow?” said Skarphedinn.
“My death by violence,” he said, “and the death with me of my wife, and
of all you my sons.”
They stood silent at that, for the old man’s prophecies had seldom
failed, and they felt that this one would come to pass.
Then Kari said: “Am I in the one case with you all?”
“Thy good fortune will bring thee safe out of it,” said Nial; “but they
will spare no pains to have thee in the same case with us.”
This one thing touched Nial so nearly that he could never speak of it
without shedding tears.
As the time of the suit about Hoskuld’s death drew on, all men wondered
how it would go with Nial’s sons. Those who knew Hoskuld contended that
he had been slain for less than no cause; and this was true; yet others
saw clearly that if men of such worth as Nial and his sons were slain,
whose family were always held in the greatest respect, the blood-feud
and the hue and cry would stir the whole country, and those who slew
them would be hated by all. But Mord would not let the matter rest, but
was ever urging the relatives of Hoskuld on his wife’s side to take
up the suit against Nial’s sons. So the suit went forward, some taking
Nial’s part and some the part of his enemies; but few men stood to aid
Nial in the suit.
Nial was often found sitting with his chin on the top of his staff,
gazing out from the door of the booth, and his hair looked greyer than
its wont. “Things draw on to an end,” he would say; “and what must be,
must be.”