“’But I took the name of Skallagrim and swore an oath against all men, ay, and women too, and away I went to the wood-folk and worked much mischief, for I spared few, and so on to Mosfell.  Here I have stayed these five years, awaiting the time when I shall find Ospakar and Thorunna the harlot, and I have fought many men, but, till thou camest up against me, none could stand before my might.”

“A strange tale, truly,” said Eric; “but now hearken thou to a stranger, for of a truth it seems that we have not come together by chance,” and he told him of Gudruda and the wrestling and of the overthrow of Blacktooth, and showed him Whitefire which he won out of the hand of Ospakar.

Skallagrim listened and laughed aloud.  “Surely,” he said, “this is the work of the Norns.  See, lord, thou and I will yet smite this Ospakar.  He has taken my wife and he would take thy betrothed.  Let it be!  Let it be!  Ah, would that I had been there to see the wrestling—­Ospakar had never risen from his snow-bed.  But there is time left to us, and I shall yet see his head roll along the dust.  Thou hast his goodly sword and with it thou shalt sweep Blacktooth’s head from his shoulders—­or perchance that shall be my lot,” and with this Skallagrim sprang up, gnashing his teeth and clutching at the air.

“Peace,” said Eric.  “Blacktooth is not here.  Save thy rage until it can run along thy sword and strike him.”

“Nay, not here, nor yet so far off, lord.  Hearken:  I know this Ospakar.  If he has set eyes of longing on Gudruda, Asmund’s daughter, he will not rest one hour till he have her or is slain; and if he has set eyes of hate on thee—­then take heed to thy going and spy down every path before thy feet tread it.  Soon shall the matter come on for judgment and even now Odin’s Valkyries[*] choose their own.”

     [*] The “corse-choosing sisters” who were bidden by Odin to
     single out those warriors whose hour had come to die in
     battle and win Valhalla.

“It is well, then,” said Eric.

“Yea, lord, it is well, for we two have little to fear from any six men, if so be that they fall on us in fair fight.  But I do not altogether like thy tale.  Too many women are mixed up in it, and women stab in the back.  A man may deal with swords aloft, but not with tricks, and lies, and false women’s witchery.  It was a woman who greased thy wrestling soles; mayhap it will be a woman that binds on thy Hell-shoes when all is done—­ay! and who makes them ready for thy feet.”

“Of women, as of men,” answered Eric, “there is this to be said, that some are good and some evil.”

“Yes, lord, and this also, that the evil ones plot the ill of their evil, but the good do it of their blind foolishness.  Forswear women and so shalt thou live happy and die in honour—­cherish them and live in wretchedness and die an outcast.”

“Thy talk is foolish,” said Eric.  “Birds must to the air, the sea to the shore, and man must to woman.  As things are so let them be, for they will soon seem as though they had never been.  I had rather kiss my dear and die, if so it pleases me to do, than kiss her not and live, for at the last the end will be one end, and kisses are sweet!”