<i>How the Short-Sword was the easier known when sought for by reason
of the notch in the blade</i>.
Thorstein Dromund was a mighty man, and of the greatest account; and
now he heard that Thorbiorn Angle had got him gone from the land out
to Micklegarth; speedy were his doings thereon, he gave over his lands
into his kinsmen's hands, and betook himself to journeying and to
search for Angle; and ever he followed after whereas Angle had gone
afore, nor was Angle ware of his goings.
So Thorstein Dromund came out to Micklegarth a little after Angle, and
was fain above all things to slay him, but neither knew the other. Now
had they will to be taken into the company of the Varangians, and
the matter went well as soon as the Varangians knew that they were
Northmen; and in those days was Michael Katalak king over Micklegarth.
Thorstein Dromund watched for Angle, if in some wise he might know
him, but won not the game because of the many people there; and ever
would he lie awake, ill-content with his lot, and thinking how great
was his loss.
Now hereupon it befell that the Varangians were to go on certain
warfare, and free the land from harrying; and their manner and law it
was before they went from home to hold a weapon-show, and so it was
now done; and when the weapon-show was established, then were all
Varangians to come there, and those withal who were minded to fall
into their company, and they were to show forth their weapons.
Thither came both Thorstein and Angle; but Thorbiorn Angle showed
forth his weapons first; and he had the short-sword, Grettir's-loom;
but when he showed it many praised it and said that it was an
exceeding good weapon, but that it was a great blemish, that notch in
the edge thereof; and asked him withal what had brought that to pass.
Angle said it was a thing worthy to be told of, "For this is the next
thing to be said," says he, "that out in Iceland I slew that champion
who was called Grettir the Strong, and who was the greatest warrior
and the stoutest-hearted of all men of that land, for him could no man
vanquish till I came forth for that end; and whereas I had the good
hap to win him, I took his life; though indeed he had my strength many
times over; then I drave this short-sword into his head, and thereby
was a shard broken from out its edge."
So those who stood nigh said, that he must have been hard of head
then, and each showed the short-sword to the other; but hereby
Thorstein deemed he knew now who this man was, and he prayed withal
to see the short-sword even as the others; then Angle gave it up with
good will, for all were praising his bravery and that daring onset,
and even in such wise did he think this one would do; and in no wise
did he misdoubt him that Thorstein was there, or that the man was akin
to Grettir.
Then Dromund took the short-sword, and raised it aloft, and hewed at
Angle and smote him on the head, and so great was the stroke that it
stayed but at the jaw-teeth, and Thorbiorn Angle fell to earth dead
and dishonoured.
Thereat all men became hushed; but the Chancellor of the town seized
Thorstein straightway, and asked for what cause he did such an
ill-deed there at the hallowed Thing.
Thorstein said that he was the brother of Grettir the Strong, and that
withal he had never been able to bring vengeance to pass till then;
so thereupon many put in their word, and said that the strong man must
needs have been of great might and nobleness, in that Thorstein had
fared so far forth into the world to avenge him: the rulers of the
city deemed that like enough; but whereas there was none there to bear
witness in aught to Thorstein's word, that law of theirs prevailed,
that whosoever slew a man should lose nought but his life.
So then speedy doom and hard enow did Thorstein get; for in a dark
chamber of a dungeon should he be cast and there abide his death, if
none redeemed him therefrom with money. But when Thorstein came into
the dungeon, there was a man there already, who had come to death's
door from misery; and both foul and cold was that abode; Thorstein
spake to that man and said,
"How deemest thou of thy life?"
He answered, "As of a right evil life, for of nought can I be holpen,
nor have I kinsmen to redeem me."
Thorstein said, "Nought is of less avail in such matters than lack of
good rede; let us be merry then, and do somewhat that will be glee and
game to us."
The man said that he might have no glee of aught.
"Nay, then, but let us try it," said Thorstein. And therewithal he
fell to singing; and he was a man of such goodly voice that scarcely
might his like be found therefor, nor did he now spare himself.
Now the highway was but a little way from the dungeon, and Thorstein
sang so loud and clear that the walls resounded therewith, and great
game this seemed to him who had been half-dead erst; and in such wise
did Thorstein keep it going till the evening.