In the Uplands were two brothers, men of great family, and men of
fortune, Einar and Andres, sons of Guthorm Grabard, and brothers of
King Sigurd Haraldson's mother; and they had great properties and udal
estates in that quarter. They had a sister who was very handsome, but
did not pay sufficient regard to the scandal of evil persons, as it
afterwards appeared. She was on a friendly footing with an English
priest called Richard, who had a welcome to the house of her brothers,
and on account of their friendship for him she did many things to please
him, and often to his advantage; but the end of all this was, that an
ugly report flew about concerning this girl. When this came into the
mouth of the public all men threw the blame on the priest. Her brothers
did the same, and expressed publicly, as soon as they observed it, that
they laid the blame most on him. The great friendship that was between
the earl and the priest proved a great misfortune to both, which might
have been expected, as the brothers were silent about their secret
determination, and let nothing be observed. But one day they called the
priest to them, who went, expecting nothing but good from them; enticed
him from home with them, saying that they intended to go to another
district, where they had some needful business, and inviting him to go
with them. They had with them a farm-servant who knew their purpose.
They went in a boat along the shore of a lake which is called Rands
lake, and landed at a ness called Skiptisand, where they went on shore
and amused themselves awhile. Then they went to a retired place, and
commanded their servant-man to strike the priest with an axe-hammer.
He struck the priest so hard that he swooned; but when he recovered he
said, "Why are ye playing so roughly with me?" They replied, "Although
nobody has told thee of it before, thou shalt now find the consequence
of what thou hast done." They then upbraided him; but he denied their
accusations, and besought God and the holy King Olaf to judge between
them. Then they broke his leg-bones, and dragged him bound to the forest
with them; and then they put a string around his head, and put a board
under his head and shoulders, and made a knot on the string, and bound
his head fast to the board. Then the elder brother, Einar, took a wedge,
and put it on the priest's eye, and the servant who stood beside him
struck upon it with an axe, so that the eye flew out, and fell upon the
board. Then he set the pin upon the other eye, and said to the servant,
"Strike now more softly." He did so, and the wedge sprang from the
eye-stone, and tore the eyelid loose. Then Einar took up the eyelid in
his hand, and saw that the eye-stone was still in its place; and he set
the wedge on the cheek, and when the servant struck it the eye-stone
sprang out upon the cheek-bone. Thereafter they opened his mouth, took
his tongue and cut it off, and then untied his hands and his head. As
soon as he came to himself, he thought of laying the eye-stones in their
place under the eyelids, and pressing then with both hands as much as
he could. Then they carried him on board, and went to a farm called
Saeheimrud, where they landed. They sent up to the farm to say that a
priest was lying in the boat at the shore. While the message was going
to the farm, they asked the priest if he could talk; and he made a noise
and attempted to speak. Then said Einar to his brother, "If he recover
and the stump of his tongue grow, I am afraid he will get his speech
again." Thereupon they seized the stump with a pair of tongs, drew it
out, cut it twice, and the third time to the very roots, and left him
lying half dead. The housewife in the farm was poor; but she hastened to
the place with her daughter, and they carried the priest home to their
farm in their cloaks. They then brought a priest, and when he arrived he
bound all his wounds; and they attended to his comfort as much as they
were able. And thus lay the wounded priest grievously handled, but
trusting always to God's grace, and never doubting; and although he was
speechless, he prayed to God in thought with a sorrowful mind, but with
the more confidence the worse he was. He turned his thoughts also to the
mild King Olaf the Saint, God's dear favourite, of whose excellent deeds
he had heard so much told, and trusted so much more zealously on him
with all his heart for help in his necessity. As he lay there lame, and
deprived of all strength, he wept bitterly, moaned, and prayed with a
sore heart that the dear King Olaf would help him. Now when this wounded
priest was sleeping after midnight, he thought he saw a gallant man
coming to him, who spoke these words, "Thou art ill off, friend Richard,
and thy strength is little." He thought he replied to this assentingly.
Then the man accosted him again, "Thou requirest compassion?" The priest
replies, "I need the compassion of Almighty God and the holy King Olaf."
He answered, "Thou shalt get it." Thereupon he pulled the tongue-stump
so hard that it gave the priest pain; then he stroked with his hands his
eyes, and legs, and other wounded members. Then the priest asked who he
was. He looked at him, and said, "Olaf, come here from Throndhjem;" and
then disappeared. But the priest awoke altogether sound, and thus he
spoke: "Happy am I, and thanks be to the Almighty God and the holy King
Olaf, who have restored me!" Dreadfully mishandled as he had been, yet
so quickly was he restored from his misfortune that he scarcely thought
he had been wounded or sick. His tongue was entire; both his eyes were
in their places, and were clear-sighted; his broken legs and every other
wound were healed, or were free from pain; and, in short, he had got
perfect health. But as a proof that his eyes had been punched out, there
remained a white scar on each eyelid, in order that this dear king's
excellence might be manifest on the man who had been so dreadfully
misused.