as soon healed, and when he thought he was strong
again, he rode to Mel and challenged Cormac to the holmgang.

"It takes thee long to tire of it," said Cormac: "but I'll not say thee
nay."

So they went to the fight, and Thordis met Thorvard now as before, but
Cormac sought no help from her. She blunted Cormac's sword, so that
it would not bite, but yet he struck so great a stroke on Thorvard's
shoulder that the collarbone was broken and his hand was good for
nothing. Being so maimed he could fight no longer, and had to pay
another ring for his ransom.

Then Thorolf of Spakonufell set upon Cormac and struck at him. He warded
off the blow and sang this song:--

(73)
"This reddener of shields, feebly wrathful,
His rusty old sword waved against me,
Who am singer and sacred to Odin!
Go, snuffle, most wretched of men, thou!
A thrust of thy sword is as thewless
As thou, silly stirrer of battle.
What danger to me from thy daring,
Thou doited old witch-woman's carle?"

Then he killed a bull in sacrifice according to use and wont, saying,
"Ill we brook your overbearing and the witchcraft of Thordis:" and he
made this song:--

(74)
"The witch in the wave of the offering
Has wasted the flame of the buckler,
Lest its bite on his back should be deadly
At the bringing together of weapons.
My sword was not sharp for the onset
When I sought the helm-wearer in battle;
But the cur got enough to cry craven,
With a clout that will mind him of me!"

After that each party went home, and neither was well pleased with these
doings.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR. How They All Went Out To Norway.

Now all the winter long Cormac and Thorgils laid up their ship in
Hrutafiord; but in spring the chapmen were off to sea, and so the
brothers made up their minds for the voyage. When they were ready to
start, Cormac went to see Steingerd: and before they two parted he
kissed her twice, and his kisses were not at all hasty. The Tinker would
not have it; and so friends on both sides came in, and it was settled
that Cormac should pay for this that he had done.

"How much?" asked he.

"The two rings that I parted with," said Thorvard. Then Cormac made a
song:--

(75)
"Here is gold of the other's well gleaming
In guerdon for this one and that one,--
Here is treasure of Fafnir the fire