This summer Thorstein got ready to ride to the Thing, and spake to
Jofrid his wife before he went from home. “So is it,” he says, “that
thou art with child now, but thy child shall be cast forth if thou bear
a woman; but nourished if it be a man.”
Now, at this time when all the land was heathen, it was somewhat the
wont of such men as had little wealth, and were like to have many young
children on their hands, to have them cast forth, but an evil deed it
was always deemed to be.
And now, when Thorstein had said this, Jofrid answers, “This is a word
all unlike thee, such a man as thou art, and surely to a wealthy man
like thee it will not seem good that this should be done.”
Thorstein answered: “Thou knowest my mind, and that no good will hap if
my will be thwarted.”
So he rode to the Thing; but while he was gone Jofrid gave birth to a
woman-child wondrous fair. The women would fain show her to the mother;
she said there was little need thereof, but had her shepherd Thorvard
called to her, and spake to him:--
“Thou shalt take my horse and saddle it, and bring this child west
to Herdholt, to Thorgerd, Egil’s daughter, and pray her to nourish it
secretly, so that Thorstein may not know thereof. For with such looks of
love do I behold this child, that surely I cannot bear to have it cast
forth. Here are three marks of silver, have them in reward of thy work;
but west there Thorgerd will get thee fare and food over the sea.”
Then Thorvard did her bidding; he rode with the child to Herdholt, and
gave it into Thorgerd’s hands, and she had it nourished at a tenant’s of
hers who dwelt at Freedmans-stead up in Hvamfirth; but she got fare for
Thorvard north in Steingrims-firth, in Shell-creek, and gave him meet
outfit for his sea-faring: he went thence abroad, and is now out of the
story.
Now when Thorstein came home from the Thing, Jofrid told him that the
child had been cast forth according to his word, but that the herdsman
had fled away and stolen her horse. Thorstein said she had done well,
and got himself another herdsman. So six winters passed, and this matter
was nowise wotted of.
Now in those days Thorstein rode to Herdholt, being bidden there as
guest of his brother-in-law, Olaf Peacock, the son of Hoskuld, who was
then deemed to be the chief highest of worth among all men west there.
Good cheer was made Thorstein, as was like to be; and one day at the
feast it is said that Thorgerd sat in the high seat talking with her
brother Thorstein, while Olaf was talking to other men; but on the bench
right over against them sat three little maidens. Then said Thorgerd,--
“How dost thou, brother, like the look of these three little maidens
sitting straight before us?”
“Right well,” he answers, “but one is by far the fairest; she has all
the goodliness of Olaf, but the whiteness and the countenance of us, the
Mere-men.”
Thorgerd answered: “Surely this is true, brother, wherein thou sayest
that she has the fairness and countenance of us Mere-folk, but
the goodliness of Olaf Peacock she has not got, for she is not his
daughter.”
“How can that be,” says Thorstein, “being thy daughter none the less?”
She answered: “To say sooth, kinsman,” quoth she, “this fair maiden is
not my daughter, but thine.”
And therewith she told him all as it had befallen, and prayed him to
forgive her and his own wife that trespass.
Thorstein said: “I cannot blame you two for having done this; most
things will fall as they are fated, and well have ye covered over my
folly: so look I on this maiden that I deem it great good luck to have
so fair a child. But now, what is her name?”
“Helga she is called,” says Thorgerd.
“Helga the Fair,” says Thorstein. “But now shalt thou make her ready to
come home with me.”
She did so, and Thorstein was led out with good gifts, and Helga rode
with him to his home, and was brought up there with much honour and
great love from father and mother and all her kin.