(77)
“Here is gold of the otter's well gleaming
In guerdon for this one and that one,--
Here is treasure of Fafnir the fire-drake
In fee for the kiss of my lady.
Never wearer of ring, never wielder
Of weapon has made such atonement;
Never dearer were deeply-drawn kisses--
And the dream of my bliss is betrayed.”
Another day he was walking in the street and met Steingerd again. He
turned to her and prayed her to walk with him. She would not; whereupon
he laid hand on her, to lead her along. She cried out for help; and as
it happened, the king was standing not far off, and went up to them.
He thought this behaviour most unseemly, and took her away, speaking
sharply to Cormac. King Harald made himself very angry over this affair;
but Cormac was one of his courtiers, and it was not long before he got
into favour again, and then things went fair and softly for the rest of
the winter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE. How They Cruised With The King's Fleet, And
Quarrelled, And Made It Up.
In the following spring King Harald set forth to the land of Permia with
a great host. Cormac was one of the captains in that warfaring, and in
another ship was Thorvald: the other captains of ships are not named in
our story.
Now as they were all sailing in close order through a narrow sound,
Cormac swung his steering-oar and hit Thorvald a clout on the ear, so
that he fell from his place at the helm in a swoon; and Cormac's ship
hove to, when she lost her rudder. Steingerd had been sitting beside
Thorvald; she laid hold of the tiller, and ran Cormac down. When he saw
what she was doing, he sang:--
(78)
“There is one that is nearer and nigher
To the noblest of dames than her lover:
With the haft of the helm is he smitten
On the hat-block--and fairly amidships!
The false heir of Eystein--he falters--
He falls in the poop of his galley!
Nay! steer not upon me, O Steingerd,
Though stoutly ye carry the day!”
So Cormac's ship capsized under him; but his crew were saved without
loss of time, for there were plenty of people round about. Thorvald soon
came round again, and they all went on their way. The king offered
to settle the matter between them; and when they both agreed, he gave
judgment that Thorvald's hurt was atoned for by Cormac's upset.
In the evening they went ashore; and the king and his men sat down to
supper. Cormac was sitting outside the door of a tent, drinking out of
the same cup with Steingerd. While they were busy at it, a young fellow
for mere sport and mockery stole the brooch out of Cormac's fur cloak,
which he had doffed and laid aside; and when he came to take his cloak
again, the brooch was gone. He sprang up and rushed after the young
fellow, with the spear that he called Vigr (the spear) and shot at him,
but missed. This was the song he made about it:--
(79)
“The youngster has pilfered my pin,
As I pledged the gay dame in the beaker;
And now must we brawl for a brooch
Like boys when they wrangle and tussle.
Right well have I shafted my spear,
Though I shot nothing more than the gravel:
But sure, if I missed at my man,
The moss has been prettily slaughtered!”
After this they went on their way to the land of Permia, and after that
they went home again to Norway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX. How Cormac Saved Steingerd Once More From Pirates;
And How They Parted For Good And All.
Thorvald the Tinker fitted out his ship for a cruise to Denmark, and
Steingerd sailed with him. A little afterwards the brothers set out on
the same voyage, and late one evening they made the Brenneyjar.
There they saw Thorvald's ship riding, and found him aboard with part of
his crew; but they had been robbed of all their goods, and Steingerd
had been carried off by Vikings. Now the leader of those Vikings was
Thorstein, the son of that Asmund Ashenside, the old enemy of Ogmund,
the father of Cormac and Thorgils.
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:--
(80)
“They came at me yonder in crowds,
O kemp of the shield-serpents' wrangle!
When I fared on my way through the flood,
That flock of the wights of the water.
And ne'er to the gate of the gods
Had I got me, if there had I perished;
Yet once and again have I won,
Little woman, thy safety in peril!”
So he swam ashore and brought Steingerd back to her husband.
Thorvald bade Steingerd to go, at last, along with Cormac, for he had
fairly won her, and manfully. That was what he, too, desired, said
Cormac; but “Nay,” said Steingerd, “she would not change knives.”
“Well,” said Cormac, “it was plain that this was not to be. Evil
beings,” he said, “ill luck, had parted them long ago.” And he made this
song:--
(81)
“Nay, count not the comfort had brought me,
Fair queen of the ring, thy embrace!
Go, mate with the man of thy choosing,
Scant mirth will he get of thy grace!
Be dearer henceforth to thy dastard,
False dame of the coif, than to me;--
I have spoken the word; I have sung it;--
I have said my last farewell to thee.”
And so he bade her begone with her husband.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN. The Swan-Songs of Cormac.
After these things the brothers turned back to Norway, and Thorvald the
Tinker made his way to Iceland. But the brothers went warfaring round
about Ireland, Wales, England and Scotland, and they were reckoned to
be the most famous of men. It was they who first built the castle of
Scarborough; they made raids into Scotland, and achieved many great
feats, and led a mighty host; and in all that host none was like Cormac
in strength and courage.
Once upon a time, after a battle, Cormac was driving the flying foe
before him while the rest of his host had gone back aboard ship. Out of
the woods there rushed against him one as monstrous big as an idol--a
Scot; and a fierce struggle began. Cormac felt for his sword, but it
had slipped out of the sheath; he was over-matched, for the giant was
possessed; but yet he reached out, caught his sword, and struck the
giant his death-blow. Then the giant cast his hands about Cormac, and
gripped his sides so hard that the ribs cracked, and he fell over, and
the dead giant on top of him, so that he could not stir. Far and wide
his folk were looking for him, but at last they found him and carried
him aboard ship. Then he made this song:--
(82)
“When my manhood was matched in embraces
With the might of yon horror, the strangler,
Far other I found it than folding
That fair one ye know in my arms!
On the high-seat of heroes with Odin
From the horn of the gods I were drinking
O'er soon--let me speak it to warriors--
If Skrymir had failed of his aid.”
Then his wounds were looked to; they found that his ribs were broken on
both sides. He said it was no use trying to heal him, and lay there in
his wounds for a time, while his men grieved that he should have been so
unwary of his life.