There was an Iceland man, by name Thorarin Nefiulfson, who had his
relations in the north of the country. He was not of high birth, but
particularly prudent, eloquent, and agreeable in conversation with
people of distinction. He was also a far-travelled man, who had been
long in foreign parts. Thorarin was a remarkably ugly man, principally
because he had very ungainly limbs. He had great ugly hands, and
his feet were still uglier. Thorarin was in Tunsberg when this event
happened which has just been related, and he was known to King Olaf by
their having had conversations together. Thorarin was just then done
with rigging out a merchant vessel which he owned, and with which he
intended to go to Iceland in summer. King Olaf had Thorarin with him as
a guest for some days, and conversed much with him; and Thorarin even
slept in the king's lodgings. One morning early the king awoke while
the others were still sleeping. The sun had newly risen in the sky, and
there was much light within. The king saw that Thorarin had stretched
out one of his feet from under the bed-clothes, and he looked at the
foot a while. In the meantime the others in the lodging awoke; and the
king said to Thorarin, "I have been awake for a while, and have seen a
sight which was worth seeing; and that is a man's foot so ugly that I
do not think an uglier can be found in this merchant town." Thereupon he
told the others to look at it, and see if it was not so; and all agreed
with the king. When Thorarin observed what they were talking about, he
said, "There are few things for which you cannot find a match, and that
may be the case here."
The king says, "I would rather say that such another ugly foot cannot be
found in the town, and I would lay any wager upon it."
Then said Thorarin, "I am willing to bet that I shall find an uglier
foot still in the town."
The king--"Then he who wins shall have the right to get any demand from
the other he chooses to make."
"Be it so," said Thorarin. Thereupon he stretches out his other foot
from under the bed-clothes, and it was in no way handsomer than the
other, and moreover, wanted the little toe. "There," said Thorarin, "see
now, king, my other foot, which is so much uglier; and, besides, has no
little toe. Now I have won."
The king replies, "That other foot was so much uglier than this one by
having five ugly toes upon it, and this has only four; and now I have
won the choice of asking something from thee."
"The sovereign's decision must be right," says Thorarin; "but what does
the king require of me?"
"To take Hrorek," said the king, "to Greenland, and deliver him to Leif
Eirikson."