Chapter 26
Thorvald the Tinker fitted out his ship for a cruise to Denmark, and Steingerd sailed with him. A little afterwards the brothers set out on the same voyage, and late one evening they made the Brenneyjar.
There they saw Thorvald's ship riding, and found him aboard with part of his crew; but they had been robbed of all their goods, and Steingerd had been carried off by Vikings. Now the leader of those Vikings was Thorstein, the son of that Asmund Ashenside, the old enemy of Ogmund, the father of Cormac and Thorgils.
So Thorvald and Cormac met, and Cormac asked how came it that his voyage had been so unlucky.
"Things have not turned out for the best, indeed," said he.
"What is the matter?" asked Cormac. "Is Steingerd missing?"
"She is gone," said Thorvald, "and all our goods."
"Why don't you go after her?" asked Cormac.
"We are not strong enough," said Thorvald.
"Do you mean to say you can't?" said Cormac.
"We have not the means to fight Thorstein," said Thorvald. "But if thou hast, go in and fight for thy own hand."
"I will," said Cormac.
So at nightfall the brothers went in a boat and rowed to the Viking fleet, and boarded Thorstein's ship. Steingerd was in the cabin on the poop; she had been allotted to one of the Vikings; but most of the crew were ashore round the cooking-fires. Cormac got the story out of the men who were cooking, and they told all the brothers wanted to know. They clambered on board by the ladder; Thorgils dragged the bridegroom out to the gunwale, and Cormac cut him down then and there. Then he dived into the sea with Steingerd and swam ashore; but when he was nearing the land a swarm of eels twisted round his hands and feet, so that he was dragged under. On which he made this song:
"They came at me yonder in crowds,O kemp of the shield-serpents' wrangle!When I fared on my way through the flood,That flock of the wights of the water.And ne'er to the gate of the godsHad I got me, if there had I perished;Yet once and again have I won,Little woman, thy safety in peril!"
So he swam ashore and brought Steingerd back to her husband.
Thorvald bade Steingerd to go, at last, along with Cormac, for he had fairly won her, and manfully. That was what he, too, desired, said Cormac; but "Nay," said Steingerd, "she would not change knives."
"Well," said Cormac, "it was plain that this was not to be. Evil beings," he said, "ill luck, had parted them long ago." And he made this song:
"Nay, count not the comfort had brought me,Fair queen of the ring, thy embrace!Go, mate with the man of thy choosing,Scant mirth will he get of thy grace!Be dearer henceforth to thy dastard,False dame of the coif, than to me; -I have spoken the word; I have sung it; -I have said my last farewell to thee."
And so he bade her begone with her husband.
Chapter 27
After these things the brothers turned back to Norway, and Thorvald the Tinker made his way to Iceland. But the brothers went warfaring round about Ireland, Wales, England and Scotland, and they were reckoned to be the most famous of men. It was they who first built the castle of Scarborough; they made raids into Scotland, and achieved many great feats, and led a mighty host; and in all that host none was like Cormac in strength and courage.
Once upon a time, after a battle, Cormac was driving the flying foe before him while the rest of his host had gone back aboard ship. Out of the woods there rushed against him one as monstrous big as an idol - a Scot; and a fierce struggle began. Cormac felt for his sword, but it had slipped out of the sheath; he was over-matched, for the giant was possessed; but yet he reached out, caught his sword, and struck the giant his death-blow. Then the giant cast his hands about Cormac, and gripped his sides so hard that the ribs cracked, and he fell over, and the dead giant on top of him, so that he could not stir. Far and wide his folk were looking for him, but at last they found him and carried him aboard ship. Then he made this song:
"When my manhood was matched in embracesWith the might of yon horror, the strangler,Far other I found it than foldingThat fair one ye know in my arms!On the high-seat of heroes with OdinFrom the horn of the gods I were drinkingO'er soon - let me speak it to warriors -If Skrymir had failed of his aid."
Then his wounds were looked to; they found that his ribs were broken on both sides. He said it was no use trying to heal him, and lay there in his wounds for a time, while his men grieved that he should have been so unwary of his life.
He answered them in song:
"Of yore never once did I ween it,When I wielded the cleaver of targets,That sickness was fated to foil me -A fighter so hardy as I.But I shrink not, for others must share it,Stout shafts of the spear though they deem them,- O hard at my heart is the death-pang, -Thus hopeless the bravest may die."
And this song also:
"He came not with me in the morning,Thy mate, O thou fairest of women,When we reddened for booty the broadsword,So brave to the hand-grip, in Ireland:When the sword from its scabbard was loosenedAnd sang round my cheeks in the battleFor the feast of the Fury, and blood-dropsFell hot on the neb of the raven."
And then he began to fail.
This was his last song:
"There was dew from the wound smitten deeplyThat drained from the stroke of the sword-edge;There was red on the weapon I wieldedIn the war with the glorious and gallant:Yet not where the broadsword, - the blood wand, -Was borne by the lords of the falchion,But low in the straw like a laggard,O my lady, dishonoured I die!"
He said that his will was to give Thorgils his brother all he had - the goods he owned and the host he led; for he would like best, he said, that his brother should have the use of them.
So then Cormac died. Thorgils became captain over the host, and was long time in viking.
And so ends the story.