as yet he had done no deeds, but lived at
home on Coldback, managing the farm, for now Thorgrimur Iron-Toe, his
father, was dead. But women loved him much, and that was his bane--for
of all women he loved but one, Gudruda the Fair, Asmund's daughter. He
loved her from a child, and her alone till his day of death, and she,
too, loved him and him only. For now Gudruda was a maid of maids, most
beautiful to see and sweet to hear. Her hair, like the hair of Eric, was
golden, and she was white as the snow on Hecla; but her eyes were large
and dark, and black lashes drooped above them. For the rest she was tall
and strong and comely, merry of face, yet tender, and the most witty of
women.

Swanhild also was very fair; she was slender, small of limb, and dark of
hue, having eyes blue as the deep sea, and brown curling hair, enough
to veil her to the knees, and a mind of which none knew the end, for,
though she was open in her talk, her thoughts were dark and secret. This
was her joy: to draw the hearts of men to her and then to mock them.
She beguiled many in this fashion, for she was the cunningest girl in
matters of love, and she knew well the arts of women, with which they
bring men to nothing. Nevertheless she was cold at heart, and desired
power and wealth greatly, and she studied magic much, of which her
mother Groa also had a store. But Swanhild, too, loved a man, and that
was the joint in her harness by which the shaft of Fate entered her
heart, for that man was Eric Brighteyes, who loved her not. But she
desired him so sorely that, without him, all the world was dark to
her, and her soul but as a ship driven rudderless upon a winter
night. Therefore she put out all her strength to win him, and bent her
witcheries upon him, and they were not few nor small. Nevertheless they
went by him like the wind, for he dreamed ever of Gudruda alone, and he
saw no eyes but hers, though as yet they spoke no word of love one to
the other.

But Swanhild in her wrath took counsel with her mother Groa, though
there was little liking between them; and, when she had heard the
maiden's tale, Groa laughed aloud:

"Dost think me blind, girl?" she said; "all of this I have seen, yea and
foreseen, and I tell thee thou art mad. Let this yeoman Eric go and I
will find thee finer fowl to fly at."

"Nay, that I will not," quoth Swanhild: "for I love this man alone, and
I would win him; and Gudruda I hate, and I would overthrow her. Give me
of