<i>How Grettir took leave of his Mother at Biarg, and fared with
Illugi his Brother to Drangey</i>.
Grettir rode north to Biarg a little after he parted with Thorod, and
lay hid there yet awhile; then so great grew his fear in the dark,
that he durst go nowhere as soon as dusk set in. His mother bade him
abide there, but said withal, that she saw that it would scarce avail
him aught, since he had so many cases against him throughout all the
land. Grettir said that she should never have trouble brought on her
for his sake.
"But I shall no longer do so much for the keeping of my life," says
he, "as to be alone."
Now Illugi his brother was by that time about fifteen winters old,
and the goodliest to look on of all men; and he overheard their talk
together. Grettir was telling his mother what rede Gudmund the Rich
had given him, and now that he should try, if he had a chance, to get
out to Drangey, but he said withal, that he might not abide there,
unless he might get some trusty man to be with him. Then said Illugi,
"I will go with thee, brother, though I know not that I shall be of
any help to thee, unless it be that I shall be ever true to thee, nor
run from thee whiles thou standest up; and moreover I shall know more
surely how thou farest if I am still in thy fellowship."
Grettir answered, "Such a man thou art, that I am gladder in thee than
in any other; and if it cross not my mother's mind, fain were I that
thou shouldst fare with me."
Then said Asdis, "Now can I see that it has come to this, that two
troubles lie before us: for meseems I may ill spare Illugi, yet I know
that so hard is thy lot, Grettir, that thou must in somewise find rede
therefor: and howsoever it grieves me, O my sons, to see you both turn
your backs on me, yet thus much will I do, if Grettir might thereby be
somewhat more holpen than heretofore."
Hereat was Illugi glad, for that he deemed it good to go with Grettir.
So she gave them much of her chattels, and they made them ready for
their journey. Asdis led them from out the garth, and before they
parted she spake thus:
"Ah, my sons twain, there ye depart from me, and one death ye shall
have together; for no man may flee from that which is wrought for him:
on no day now shall I see either of you once again; let one fate
be over you both, then; for I know not what weal ye go to get for
yourselves in Drangey, but there shall ye both lay your bones, and
many will begrudge you that abiding place. Keep ye heedfully from
wiles, yet none the less there shall ye be bitten of the edge of the
sword, for marvellously have my dreams gone: be well ware of sorcery,
for <i>little can cope with the cunning of eld</i>."
And when she had thus spoken she wept right sore.
Then said Grettir, "Weep not, mother, for if we be set on with
weapons, it shall be said of thee, that thou hast had sons, and not
daughters: live on, well and hale."
Therewithal they parted. They fared north through the country side and
saw their kin; and thus they lingered out the autumn into winter; then
they turned toward Skagafirth and went north through Waterpass and
thence to Reekpass, and down Saemunds-lithe and so unto Longholt, and
came to Dinby late in the day.
Grettir had cast his hood back on to his shoulders, for in that wise
he went ever abroad whether the day were better or worse. So they went
thence, and when they had gone but a little way, there met them a man,
big-headed, tall, and gaunt, and ill clad; he greeted them, and either
asked other for their names; they said who they were, but he called
himself Thorbiorn: he was a land-louper, a man too lazy to work, and
a great swaggerer, and much game and fooling was made with him by some
folk: he thrust himself into their company, and told them much from
the upper country about the folk there. Grettir had great game and
merriment of him; so he asked if they had no need of a man who should
work for them, "for I would fain fare with you," says he; and withal
he got so much from their talk that they suffered him to follow them.
Much snow there was that day, and it was cold; but whereas that man
swaggered exceedingly, and was the greatest of tomfools, he had a
by-name, and was called Noise.
"Great wonder had those of Dinby when thou wentest by e'en now
unhooded, in the foul weather," said Noise, "as to whether thou
wouldst have as little fear of men as of the cold: there were two
bonders' sons, both men of great strength, and the shepherd called
them forth to go to the sheep-watching with him, and scarcely could
they clothe themselves for the cold."
Grettir said, "I saw within doors there a young man who pulled on his
mittens, and another going betwixt byre and midden, and of neither of
them should I be afeared."
Thereafter they went down to Sorbness, and were there through the
night; then they fared out along the strand to a farm called Reeks,
where dwelt a man, Thorwald by name, a good bonder. Him Grettir prayed
for watch and ward, and told him how he was minded to get out to
Drangey: the bonder said that those of Skagafirth would think him no
god-send, and excused himself therewithal.
Then Grettir took a purse his mother had given to him, and gave it
to the bonder; his brows lightened over the money, and he got three
house-carles of his to bring them out in the night time by the light
of the moon. It is but a little way from Reeks out to the island, one
sea-mile only. So when they came to the isle, Grettir deemed it good
to behold, because it was grass-grown, and rose up sheer from the sea,
so that no man might come up thereon save there where the ladders were
let down, and if the uppermost ladder were drawn up, it was no man's
deed to get upon the island. There also were the cliffs full of fowl
in the summer-tide, and there were eighty sheep upon the island which
the bonders owned, and they were mostly rams and ewes which they had
mind to slaughter.
There Grettir set himself down in peace; and by then had he been
fifteen or sixteen winters in outlawry, as Sturla Thordson has said.