"Now," answered Rolf, "that which I say in his hearing will be to him the worst part of his punishment. He is my uncle, and through him my father came to his death."
But when they looked to see him weep, or hear him blame himself, Kiartan rose and thanked them that his life was spared. In loathing they bade him go into the storehouse and lie; then they laid themselves down inside the door, and slept.
For the sake of air, they left the door wide. In the morning they found that Kiartan was gone; and while they were asking where he might be, they heard his voice at a little distance, saying that there those three lay in that storehouse, and the Scots should slay them. Then was heard the rush of feet.
Rolf shut the storehouse door, and Frodi held it until it was barred. The Scots could move neither Frodi nor the bars, and knew not what to do. All within was dark, save for light from the crack of the door; and when the Scots who stood before the crack felt Frodi's bill, they stood back. Then Rolf shot arrows out through the crack, and the Scots stood aside, so that those within could do no more. They heard the Scots say that no time should be wasted for three men.
"Now," said Frodi, "they will go away."
"Be not too hopeful," said Grani.
When smoke began to puff in, they knew that the thatch had been fired over their heads. "So," quoth Frodi, "I shall be burned in the Orkneys after all. Seest thou, Grani, why no Icelander loves thy land?"
They sat there a while and the place grew hot; then Grani began to pace up and down. "Would that I," he said at last, "had never seen the Orkneys!"
"What is this?" asked Rolf.
Grani said after a silence: "I shall never speak again to my father, whom I have not seen these many years." Next he said: "My sister must be almost a woman." After that said he: "Peaceful was our home."
Frodi tried to comfort him, but Grani would not listen. "Let us die in the open," he cried, "and give an account of ourselves!"
But when they tried to leave that smothering place, they found the Scots had braced the door, and it could not be moved. Then a corner of the roof fell down, and burned inside the storehouse.
"Now," cried Grani in despair, "would I were once more on the home-field of Fellstead, looking abroad on old Broadfirth and the peaceful dales!"
"A wonderful thing thou sayest!" exclaimed Rolf.
"Let wonders be," said Frodi. "But since we cannot leave this place by the front door, why not by the rear?"
"How do that?" asked Grani.
Frodi drew aside the heavy hide which hung at the back of the storehouse, against the rock of the hillside; there were a carved stone doorway and a black cave.
"Now," cried Grani, "rightly is this place called the Vale of the Hermit; this was his house, though I never knew of it till now. Let us be quick!"
So they went into that cave and sat there, while the fire burned the storehouse quite away, and its roof-beams fell across the door of the cave and hid it. Moreover the green hide did not burn through, and kept out the smoke; and a little air came in through a fissure of the rock. Then the Scots who watched went their way, and Kiartan with them. When they were gone, those three thrust the hide and the beams aside from the cave-mouth, and leaped out over the embers. They were near stifled, and weak from the heat.
Those Scots and Kiartan went back to Hawksness, and for what he had done they gave him his ship unplundered. But they plundered the hall and the church, and with the riches of Ar they had both sport and quarrels, until all was divided. Then they sent out vessels to ravage in the Orkneys; but the main body, and the leader, sat there at Hawksness, and because it was believed Earl Thorfinn thought them still in Scotland, and no ship had been spared to go south and tell of them, they had no fear of him. For it would have been a great undertaking for any small boat to cross the Pentland Firth.
But on a day when the Earl sat in his hall, in Thurso of Caithness, his men came to him, saying: "There are messengers without, and they would speak with thee." But the men laughed.
"Why laugh ye?" asked the Earl.
"The messengers say they are from the Orkneys, yet no ship has come, and they are the worst of scarecrows."
"But bring them in," said the Earl.
So three men were brought before the Earl. One was of middle height, and slender; he bore a bow. One was taller, and carried a sword. The third was as big as any man in that place, and he held in his hand a great bill. All in rags were those men, as if their garments had been scorched. They told the Earl that the Scots were in the Orkneys, and the Earl's men laughed mightily.
"Sailed ye across the Firth?" asked the Earl.
"We rowed," answered they.
"In what?" asked the Earl. "And where is the boat?"
"It sunk off the shore," said those men, "and we swam the last mile."
"Why are ye so burned?"
They said they had been nigh burned to death.
Then the Earl stilled the laughter of his men, and he leaned to that one who bore the bow; he was not much more than a lad. "Where didst thou get," asked the Earl, "that short-sword which thou wearest? For I know the weapon well, since once it belonged to Earl Sigurd my father."
"That may be so," said the lad, "but it was given me out in Iceland."
"Now," said the Earl, "I know the man to whom my father gave the sword, and he went out to Iceland. Tell me what man gave it thee; if the name is the same, then will I believe this news of thine. But if the name is different, then ye three shall die for your false word."
"A light matter on which to hang lives," quoth that one. "Who knows how many have owned this sword? But I got it from Kari, Solmund's son."
The Earl smote his thigh. "And to Kari my father gave it! Up, men, and dight yourselves for war! This day we sail for the Orkneys."
So Earl Thorfinn sailed north, and with him went Grani, Rolf, and Frodi, those bearers of the tidings. And before ever the Scots were ready for them the Orkneyingers closed in upon Hawksness, and attacked the Scottish fleet. Some of the Scots were away, and some were ashore; those who might fight lashed their ships in a line, as in a line the Earl's ships bore down on them. That fight lasted not long, and all the Scottish ships were taken; the Scots who were on shore were hunted down, and as their ships came in from the other isles, they were taken one by one.
Kiartan's ship was still on the beach, and he was found in the church.
Now says the tale that Rolf goes before the Earl, and tells of Kiartan's treachery.
"Thou shalt have thine own way with him," quoth Thorfinn. "Shall he die by the hands of my men, or what atonement wilt thou take?"
"I ask not his death," said Rolf. "Give me his ship to return to Iceland in, and his goods to repay my mother for all her sufferings." But of those sufferings, nor of all that Kiartan had done, the Earl did not ask until later.
"Thou art easy," said he, "upon him who sought thy life; but all shall be as thou sayest."
Then Grani spoke apart with the Earl, and after that Thorfinn gave orders to his men. Where the sward lay greenest (for no snow lay on southern slopes all that winter) they cut a strip of turf; its middle they raised and propped aloft on spears, but its ends were still in the ground. Then the Earl called Rolf to come, and bade all men stand there and hear what Grani had to say. Before all, Grani told that he had wrongfully enthralled Rolf, and led by Kiartan had treated him unfairly. His sorrow he confessed, and he asked for pardon.
Answered Rolf: "For this I grant pardon readily enough."
"Meseems thou sayest that coldly, man," said the Earl. "Now here stands Grani to swear blood-brothership with thee, under this turf. What sayest thou to that?"
Now blood-brothership was a sacred ceremony, and those who swore it must uphold each other until death, if once the oath was taken under such a strip of turf, by letting blood from the arms mingle in the ground. And no greater honor might one man do another than to offer blood-brothership. But again Rolf spoke coolly, and said:
"Mayhap I am willing to do that."
"Come, then," said Thorfinn. "Lay aside thy sword, and step under the turf with Grani."
"Once I swore," replied Rolf, "never to leave weapon from my reach. And another oath I call to mind, which later I may tell thee here. Now since blood-brothership is asked, here I name myself: Rolf, son of Hiarandi, of Cragness above Broadfirth in Iceland. And remembering what Grani said when we were like to be burnt together, I ask his true name, and his father's name, and his birthplace."
"Grani hight I," answered that one. "Years long have I been fostered here, and I remember little of my childhood. But Einar is my father, Fellstead was our home, and the place is that same Broadfirth out in Iceland. So much I know and no more."
Then those who stood by saw Rolf draw his short-sword and spring at Grani. At his forehead Rolf laid the sword, the flat to the skin. "Thus," cried he, "I laid this sword to thy father's head. But thus" (and he turned the sword) "I lay it to thine, edge to thy flesh. And because I promised to do it, thus I draw thy blood!"
He drew the sword lightly across Grani's forehead, and the blood started out in little drops. Then Rolf dropped his arm, sheathed his sword, and stood quiet; but Grani, white with rage, snatched a spear from one of the Earl's men, and would have slain Rolf had not the Earl himself come between.
"Now," quoth Thorfinn grimly, "here is an odd end to blood-brothership. The cause of this shall I hear, from first unto last."
Then Rolf told the story of his father's wrongs and his own, and Frodi said it all was true. Grani, though he learned what his father had done, stood still and said no word, except that he cried at the end:
"Great insult hath Rolf offered me in drawing my blood, and for that shall he pay with his."
"Meseems," answered the Earl, "that the weight of blood-debt is still on thy side, and it is well for thee that Rolf took not payment in full. And this I advise, that here ye two make up the feud; and all money atonements I will make to Rolf, if so be I see ye accorded."
"I will lay down the feud on these terms," said Rolf, "if Grani will get me my homestead again."
But deep anger burned in Grani that his offer of blood-brothership had been so answered, by the shedding of his blood. He strode to the spears that held the strip of turf, and cast them down. "My feud do I keep!" he cried.
"Then of thee," said the Earl, "I wash my hands. But I will take Rolf to me, to be of my bodyguard so long as he will."
"Lord Earl," answered Rolf, "I thank thee for the honor, but in the ship which thou hast given me I must return to Iceland, there to clear me of mine outlawry by means of my bow."
And then that meeting of men broke up, and Rolf set himself to fit his ship for the outward voyage, and to hire sailors. He had wealth enough, in Kiartan's goods, to pay for all his father had lost; but in the viking's bow he had that treasure which he most prized, for it should win him his honor again, and the homestead which his fathers had built.
He provisioned his ship, and he hired men and a shipmaster, and soon was ready for the voyage outward. Now the spring was early, without storms as yet.
But Grani went unhappily about, knowing that danger was preparing for his father, through Rolf, and seeing not what could be done. For in that place, except Rolf's ship, lay no vessels plying either north or south, and none to go to Iceland. So there was no way for Grani to send warning to Einar, and no means by which he himself might go to Iceland, to stand by his father's side. He would have challenged Rolf to the holm, but holm-gangs and all duels were forbidden by the Earl. And now came the day when Rolf's ship was ready; the wind was fair from the east, and on the morrow they should start. Then Grani went and sat on the hillside at sunset, watching the men at a little distance as they worked about the ship where it lay upon the strand; but Rolf and Frodi had gone to the hall, and were feasting there with the Earl and his men.
Grani thought: "To save my father I must sail on that ship. Now the night will be dark, and the men will sleep at the huts, but Rolf and Frodi at the hall. Naught hinders me from hiding myself on the ship, so that on the morrow they will sail with me."
That pleased him well. But before dark Rolf and Frodi returned from the hall, having said farewell to the Earl.
The ship was then pushed off, and all men got them aboard; they anchored off the boat-steads, ready to sail at first twilight in the morning. Then when Grani saw his plan spoiled, in great uncertainty of mind he went to the hall and sat down on the lowest bench.
Quoth the Earl: "Come forward, Grani, and sit here near the dais; for thou didst save my realm as much as did those other two who have just said farewell."
"I know that well, lord," answered Grani.
"Come, sit here by my side," said the Earl, "and what thou askest in reward for thy deed, that I will give thee."
So Grani sat there by the Earl's side until it was dark out of doors, and he knew the stars were out, but no moon. With the feast, Thorfinn waxed joyous, for good tidings had come that day; and he began to press Grani to name the reward he would have for crossing the Pentland Firth to bring him news. So Grani said:
"Stretch forth thy hand now, Earl Thorfinn, and promise to grant me that thing which I ask, which shall take from no man his right or his own."
So the Earl stretched forth his hand in promise, and said: "Ask what thou wilt."
Then all the Orkneyingers listened while Grani made his request. "Oh Earl," said he, "make me thine outlaw!"
"Nay," cried the Earl, "what request is this? Dost thou mock me and my power?" And his men were angry, and some drew their swords.
But Grani said most earnestly, "I mean no insult, but much lies on it that thou shouldst make me outlaw."
Wroth indeed were the Orkneyingers, and thronged around Grani to slay him; but the Earl signed them to give peace, and sat with his eye on the youth, and thought. Then at last he smiled in his beard, and said:
"Thou art a clever lad, and bold withal. Here I grant thy desire." And he stretched out his hand and said: "Outlaw do I make thee in all my lands – not to be fed, not to be forwarded, not to be helped or harbored in any need, save only by masters of ships outward bound. I grant thee three days' space to seek shelter, and here I give notice among my men of thy full outlawry."
Then Grani thanked the Earl with all his heart, and went from the hall; after him the Earl's men scoffed, but still the Earl smiled in his beard.
Now that night a small boat rowed to the side of Rolf's ship, and a man climbed aboard, and the boatmen rowed the boat ashore again. One of the ship's men told Rolf, who sent for that one who had thus come aboard. He stood before Rolf in the starlight, wrapped in a cloak. Rolf asked why he came aboard the ship in that manner.
"Outlaw am I," said that one, "and by law thou must give me shelter when it is claimed."
"Good is the law," quoth Rolf, "and once it helped me ere now. But thy voice is muffled in the cloak, man. What is thy name?"
"No-man is my name," answered the muffled man, "and here is my faring money."
Rolf laughed. "No-man's fare costs nothing," said he, and would not take the silver. "Find thyself a place to sleep; thou art welcome here."
So that one found himself a place to sleep, and early in the morning the ship set sail. Now it is said that when the ship was gone the Earl saw Kiartan on the strand bewailing his loss. Thorfinn ordered that Kiartan be set in a galley as rower, and for two years did Kiartan labor at the oar. Then he escaped, and fled away southward; but he became thrall to a chapman, and was a thrall to the end of his days. So now he is out of the story.
But that outlaw who had come on Rolf's ship lay like a log all the first day, while the ship sped westward; and only at night did he rouse to take food. Four days he did thus, while the ship ran before the wind until the Faroe Islands were well astern. Then on a morning the man rose and walked by the rail, and looked upon the sea. Rolf sent for him to come and speak to him, and when the man was face to face with him, behold, it was Grani!
Then Rolf stood and looked on him, and Grani stood fast and looked on Rolf. And Rolf turned away and walked in the stern, but Grani waited in the same place. At last Rolf came back to him and said:
"Only one thing will I ask of thee. Wast thou indeed outlaw of the Earl?"
Grani stretched out his hand and swore to the truth. "Outlaw was I, and the Earl gave me but three days to quit his land."
"Now," said Rolf, "thou art on my ship lawfully, and naught will I do against thee. We will leave it to the fates, which of us shall prosper in this affair."
So Grani was out of danger of his life. Now that east wind lasted until they made Iceland – a quick voyage. And they sailed along the south of the land, and rounded the western cape, and sailed across the mouth of Faxafirth. But when they would round the cape into Broadfirth the wind freshened, and blew them off the land a day's sail; there they lay when the wind dropped. But then the wind came from the west, and blew them back to the land, and drove them ever faster till there was a high gale. The smallest sail they could set split from the mast, the mast itself went next, and so they came to Broadfirth and drove up it. Night drew near, and the sailors were in fear of their lives.
Now Frodi was in great uneasiness, and clung to his place, and looked upon the waters. Sometimes he made as he would speak, and yet he said nothing. Rolf and Grani stayed at opposite sides of the ship, and were steadfast in all danger, though the waves washed over them.
Then Rolf makes his way to Grani, and says he: "Now we near the land, and it is likely that we shall never need more of it than a fathom apiece, for burial. Therefore here I offer thee peace, asking no atonement from thee or thy father, save only my farm again, if we twain get ashore."
Grani looks upon Rolf, and his heart nearly melts: but he makes himself stubborn and drops his eyes. Says he: "This is no time to speak of that."
Rolf clambers back to his place. The moon rises behind broken clouds, and he sees that the ship drives toward cliffs.
Now turns the tale to speak of Einar, how he took possession of Cragness (for he bought the share of the men of the Quarter); and how Snorri the Priest sent for Asdis that she should come to him for the sake of Rolf her son, and wait the three years of his exile. But Asdis answered the messenger of Snorri: "I go to our little farm in the upland, where I can look upon my home. We will see if Einar sends me away also from that."
So she took what goods she might, and drove the milch ewe before her, and went to the turf hut in the upland, there to live alone. Now Einar might have sent her thence, and Ondott was urgent with him that he should; but for very shame Einar could not do that wrong, and that one good deed of his stood him after in stead, as the saga showeth.
Asdis over-wintered there, and folk brought her meal; but Snorri sent her much provision and dried fish, to keep her. Before they went away his men bought wood and drew it for her, and cut turf for burning; and on parting they gave her a purse of one gold-piece and six silver pennies, so Asdis was safe from all want. But no happiness could come to her so long as each day she looked out upon the hall at Cragness, and saw strangers there.
Einar abode in great pride at his new hall, and kept high state, sending to fetch whatever travellers came that way. And when harvest came he had a great feast, with all his house-carles and thralls and bonders and neighbors bidden; notable was the state of that feast.
But Ondott, when all were merry, and those who were bidden were saying that Einar was a great chief, on account of his open-handedness – Ondott let call for bows, and said that all should go down to the boundary. There by the brook he held a mock shoot; and one called himself Rolf and made as if he would shoot to the oak tree, but shot into the brook, and wept, and besought others to shoot for him. The looser sort hooted and thought that sport, and shot toward the oak a little way. Then they cried that Hiarandi was lawfully slain, and Rolf was outlaw.
But the neighbors of the better sort liked that not, and changed their aspect of cheer, and went away early. Einar said to Ondott, "Why didst thou such foolery?"
"That we may know," said Ondott, "who are of thy friends, and who thy ill-wishers. And now we know who are with us."
Einar let himself be pleased with that answer.
So the harvest passed, and winter went by and spring came on, an early spring without storms. All men looked to their plowing and sowing; and Einar took pleasure in the home-fields at Cragness, which were so fertile. But he disliked the lack of storms, for since he came to Cragness no wealth had come to him from wrecks, which he had counted on as part of his riches. And Einar had no custom to light beacons, but all through that spring he and Ondott looked for storms. Men said that storms must come, and that early farers from overseas might be caught thereby. Then at last that steady wind which had blown from the east first dropped, and then shifted, and blew hard from the west, a great gale. All men housed themselves, and a murky night came on.
Now in the hall at Cragness the old crone Thurid sat by the fire and sang to herself; and Ondott, who was ever prowling to hear what men said, came behind her and listened. She sang:
"Bad luck and good
Are both abroad.
If beacon light
Be set this night,
Comes Cragness feud
To quickest good."
"Hearest thou that?" said Ondott to Einar. He sang the song after her.
Einar asked, "Shall we light the beacon?" For he was easily turned in his purposes.
But Ondott smote the old woman, and cried: "Thou singest otherwise than when thou wert with Hiarandi. Ill was it with Hiarandi when he made the beacon, and ill would it be with us!"
He asked if he should thrust the woman from the house, but Einar had not the heart for that. The old woman said she would go ere the light came again, and was silent for an hour.
Now it is said that had Einar lighted the beacon, good would have come of it; for he who saves life is minded to continue in right doing.
Then after a while the carline sang again. She sang:
"Thy rocks beneath,
Men fight with death.
Go, see what woe
Lies there below!"
Einar hurries his men out into the storm, and himself after them. Now though the gale continues the moon is bright at last, and men can see their way.
On the rocks was a ship, and her timbers were breaking away from her and driving down into the cove to the lee. Thither Einar sent most of his men, to save what they could from the sea, of wood, chests, cloths, and all merchandise. But he watched from the cliffs, with Ondott and Hallvard and Hallmund, to see if men escaped from the fury of the sea. He saw no living thing at all, until at the last one man came climbing the cliff toward him. That one had a rope around his waist; when he reached a shelf of rock he made the rope fast, and drew on it, and pulled up a long case and a bundle: he cast down the rope again, and drew up weapons, and cast again, and drew up clothes.
"Fishes he," asked Einar, "with a hook on that rope?"
Said Hallvard: "Other men must be below, helping him."
Then that man threw down the rope again, and waited a while, and held the rope securely; it seemed as if a weight were on it. Then another man climbed to his side, a large man, and they two pulled on the rope together, drawing it up. There came into sight what seemed a dead body; but now, where climbing was easier, those two carried the body to the top of the cliffs, and then drew up the case and the arms. Einar and his men went thither in the moonlight, but ere they reached the place the men took the body between them, and carried it to the hall, and into the hall, those others following. Einar went to the door to see what the men would do.
They laid the body down before the fire, and Einar saw it was a handsome youth. Then the men looked about them as they stood; their backs were to Einar, but the crone Thurid saw their faces, and she hobbled up and said "Welcome!"
"There is no welcome for me here," said the shorter of those men, "till these strange hangings are gone from the hall, and it has been purged with the smoke of fire from their contamination."
Now Einar thought he should know that voice. The seafarer said to the crone: "Tell Einar that here lies his son, who comes back to him so; and if the beacon had been lighted, Grani had come in better wise, for I could have beached the ship in the cove. But yet I think he is not dead. And so farewell to Cragness for a space."
So those two turned to the door; and Einar ran forward and cast himself on the body of his son, not looking at those men. But Ondott looked on them, and they were Rolf and Frodi, spent with toil in the water and on the rocks. And when Ondott bade his two men seize them, they were too weary to resist; so they were bound with ropes.
Now Einar saw that Grani was not dead, but stunned by some blow. He called the women and bade them bring cloths, and heat water, and use all craft to bring his son to life again. They set to work, and Helga Grani's sister came and looked on her brother's face for the first time since he had been a little boy.
But Ondott brought before Einar those two, Rolf and Frodi, and said he: "Here we have that ravening outlaw and his cousin; now what is thy will of them? Shall they die here under the knife?"
Einar said: "Nay, but rather set them free."
Ondott cried: "What is thy thought? Here they have come again with designs on thee, and wilt thou let them go? And they will dispossess thy son of his heritage; wilt thou suffer that? Rolf is out of the law, and no harm will come of the slaying."
And Ondott pressed Einar with other reasons, saying that most of their men were at the cove for the jetsam, and Hallmund and Hallvard would never tell.
Now Helga heard, and stood before her father, saying: "Take not this sin on thy head, but rather let both the men go."
Yet Einar's heart was turned to evil as he saw how but two of his men were there, and those of the trustiest; so that those cousins might be quickly slain, and buried, and none would know that they had come ashore from the wreck. "Stand aside," quoth he to Helga, "and let these foes of thy heritage die as they should."
But Helga stepped before Rolf and Frodi, and fronted the drawn swords of Ondott and his men. "Unlawful is such a deed," she cried, "until the morning light comes. For all night-slayings are forbidden, even of outlaws, and such slayings are murder." And when she saw her father waver again she told him how even the Earl of the Orkneys (and he was father of Earl Thorfinn) dared not slay those sons of Njal who came into his hands, and so take the sin of midnight slaying on his soul; but he set them aside till morning should come.
"Aye," answered Ondott, "and in the morning the twain were fled."
That Helga knew, and had the same thought in her mind; but she begged her father not to take such shame on himself, rather to let Rolf and Frodi lie in bonds till morning. And at last Einar promised her that those two should not die until the day.
Rolf said to her: "I thank thee, maiden; and when I come into mine own again I shall not forget this. For it has been prophesied me that I shall yet sleep in my father's locked bed, and that means that this house shall be mine again."
Then Ondott laughed. "Not so is the prophecy to be read!" he cried. "Throw them into the locked room of Hiarandi for this night. To-morrow they shall sleep soundly elsewhere."
So in that little room where Rolf's fathers had slept he was cast with Frodi, and there they lay on the floor, and had no comfort of that place because of their bonds.
"Now," grumbled Frodi, "vikings have we escaped, and baresarks, and the Scots, and all manner of dangers, and the sea, only to die here at last. What was that foolish tale of thine about a prophecy? I never heard of such a thing."
"Free me of my bonds," answered Rolf, "and thou shalt learn why I made that pretence."
Frodi strove against his bonds, but they were too strong for him; and so those cousins lay there for a while.
But outside in the hall the women worked over Grani until at last he moved and groaned, and they saw that he would live. So for joy Einar knew not what to do; and he became talkative, and walked about, and so stumbled on those things (the bundle, and the clothes, and the arms, and the case) which had been brought there with Grani. When he examined them the arms pleased him right well, for in the case he found the marvellous bow of the viking. All admired the bow.
But the old woman Thurid muttered to herself as she saw them handling the bow, and at last drew near and asked to see it. The bow she handled, and the arrows she looked on; then at last she shuddered and let the bow fall, and sang of it:
"Enemy fierce
To Einar's fame,
Now lieth here.
Ere thee it pierce,
Or bringeth grame,
Fire it should sear.
Break it and burn!
Thus shalt thou turn
Ill from thy hall,
Ruin from all.
– This I discern."
Einar looked with aversion on the bow where it lay, but Ondott raised it and held it aloft. "Now," asked he, "shall such a beautiful weapon be broken for a crone's rhymes?"
All cried out that it should not be so; and Einar took the bow, and hung it on his high seat, vowing to keep it. Then he said to Thurid she should be gone ere morning, as she had promised. The old woman took her cloak, and went to the door, but on the threshold she sang:
"Here got I
One gray cloak,
One winter's meat:
These from Einar
Here got I.
– One gray cloak,
One winter's meat,
Be given Einar
Ere he die!"
So she went out into the storm. Now the moon had clouded again, and snow fell thickly, a blinding squall; so the old woman was bewildered, and very cold. She found herself a place by a rock, and sat there, singing verses, until at last she fell asleep.