Thormod went out, and entered into a chamber apart, in which there were
many wounded men, and with them a woman binding their wounds. There was
fire upon the floor, at which she warmed water to wash and clean their
wounds. Thormod sat himself down beside the door, and one came in, and
another went out, of those who were busy about the wounded men. One
of them turned to Thormod, looked at him, and said, "Why art thou so
dead-pale? Art thou wounded? Why dost thou not call for the help of the
wound-healers?" Thormod then sang these verses:--
"I am not blooming, and the fair
And slender girl loves to care
For blooming youths--few care for me;
With Fenja's meal I cannot fee.
This is the reason why I feel
The slash and thrust of Danish steel;
And pale and faint, and bent with pain,
Return from yonder battle-plain."
Then Thormod stood up and went in towards the fire, and stood there
awhile. The young woman said to him, "Go out, man, and bring in some of
the split firewood which lies close beside the door." He went out and
brought in an armful of wood, which he threw down upon the floor. Then
the nurse-girl looked him in the face, and said, "Dreadfully pale is
this man--why art thou so?" Then Thormod sang:--
"Thou wonderest, sweet sprig, at me,
A man so hideous to see:
Deep wounds but rarely mend the face,
The crippling blow gives little grace.
The arrow-drift o'ertook me, girl,--
A fine-ground arrow in the whirl
Went through me, and I feel the dart
Sits, lovely girl, too near my heart."
The girl said, "Let me see thy wound, and I will bind it." Thereupon
Thormod sat down, cast off his clothes, and the girl saw his wounds, and
examined that which was in his side, and felt that a piece of iron was
in it, but could not find where the iron had gone in. In a stone pot she
had stirred together leeks and other herbs, and boiled them, and gave
the wounded men of it to eat, by which she discovered if the wounds had
penetrated into the belly; for if the wound had gone so deep, it would
smell of leek. She brought some of this now to Thormod, and told him to
eat of it. He replied, "Take it away, I have no appetite for my broth."
Then she took a large pair of tongs, and tried to pull out the iron; but
it sat too fast, and would in no way come, and as the wound was swelled,
little of it stood out to lay hold of. Now said Thormod, "Cut so deep
in that thou canst get at the iron with the tongs, and give me the tongs
and let me pull." She did as he said. Then Thormod took a gold ring from
his hand, gave it to the nurse-woman, and told her to do with it what
she liked. "It is a good man's gift," said he: "King Olaf gave me the
ring this morning." Then Thormod took the tongs, and pulled the iron
out; but on the iron there was a hook, at which there hung some morsels
of flesh from the heart,--some white, some red. When he saw that, he
said, "The king has fed us well. I am fat, even at the heart-roots;" and
so saying he leant back, and was dead. And with this ends what we have
to say about Thormod.