The story of Burnt Njal From the Icelandic of the Njals Saga

CHAPTER LXXVI.

GUN­NAR'S SLAY­ING.

Gun­nar woke up in his hall and said--

“Thou hast been sore­ly treat­ed, Sam, my fos­ter­ling, and this warn­ing is so meant that our two deaths will not be far apart.”

Gun­nar's hall was made all of wood, and roofed with beams above, and there were win­dow-​slits un­der the beams that car­ried the roof, and they were fit­ted with shut­ters.

Gun­nar slept in a loft above the hall, and so did Hall­ger­da and his moth­er.

Now when they were come near to the house they knew not whether Gun­nar were at home, and bade that some one would go straight up to the house and see if he could find out. But the rest sat them down on the ground.

Thor­grim the East­er­ling went and be­gan to climb up on the hall; Gun­nar sees that a red kir­tle passed be­fore the win­dowslit, and thrusts out the bill, and smote him on the mid­dle. Thor­grim's feet slipped from un­der him, and he dropped his shield, and down he top­pled from the roof.

Then he goes to Gizur and his band as they sat on the ground.

Gizur looked at him and said--

“Well, is Gun­nar at home?”

“Find that out for your­selves,” said Thor­grim; “but this I am sure of, that his bill is at home,” and with that he fell down dead.

Then they made for the build­ings. Gun­nar shot out ar­rows at them, and made a stout de­fence, and they could get noth­ing done. Then some of them got in­to the out-​hous­es and tried to at­tack him thence, but Gun­nar found them out with his ar­rows there al­so, and still they could get noth­ing done.

So it went on for while, then they took a rest, and made a sec­ond on­slaught. Gun­nar still shot out at them, and they could do noth­ing, and fell off the sec­ond time. Then Gizur the white said-

“Let us press on hard­er; noth­ing comes of our on­slaught.”

Then they made a third bout of it, and were long at it, and then they fell off again.

Gun­nar said, “There lies on ar­row out­side on the wall, and it is one of their shafts; I will shoot at them with it, and it will be a shame to them if they get a hurt from their own weapons”.

His moth­er said, “Do not so, my son; nor rouse them again when they have al­ready fall­en off from the at­tack”.

But Gun­nar caught up the ar­row and shot it af­ter them, and struck Eylif Au­nund's son, and he got a great wound; he was stand­ing all by him­self, and they knew not that he was wound­ed.

“Out came an arm yon­der,” says Gizur, “and there was a gold ring on it, and took an ar­row from the roof and they would not look out­side for shafts if there were enough in doors; and now ye shall make a fresh on­slaught.”

“Let us burn him house and all,” said Mord.

“That shall nev­er be,” says Gizur, “though I knew that my life lay on it; but it is easy for thee to find out some plan, such a cun­ning man as thou art said to be.”

Some ropes lay there on the ground, and they were of­ten used to strength­en the roof. Then Mord said--“Let us take the ropes and throw one end over the end of the car­ry­ing beams, but let us fas­ten the oth­er end to these rocks and twist them tight with levers, and so pull the roof off the hall.”

So they took the ropes and all lent a hand to car­ry this out, and be­fore Gun­nar was aware of it, they had pulled the whole roof off the hall.

Then Gun­nar still shoots with his bow so that they could nev­er come nigh him. Then Mord said again that they must burn the house over Gun­nar's head. But Gizur said--

“I know not why thou wilt speak of that which no one else wish­es, and that shall nev­er be.”

Just then Thor­brand Thor­leik's son sprang up on the roof, and cuts asun­der Gun­nar's bow­string. Gun­nar clutch­es the bill with both hands, and turns on him quick­ly and drives it through him, and hurls him down on the ground.

Then up sprung As­brand his broth­er. Gun­nar thrusts at him with the bill, and he threw his shield be­fore the blow, but the bill passed clean through the shield and broke both his arms, and down he fell from the wall.

Gun­nar had al­ready wound­ed eight men and slain those twain.[28] By that time Gun­nar had got two wounds, and all men said that he nev­er once winced ei­ther at wounds or death.

Then Gun­nar said to Hall­ger­da, “Give me two locks of thy hair, and ye two, my moth­er and thou, twist them to­geth­er in­to a bow­string for me.”

“Does aught lie on it?” she says.

“My life lies on it,” he said; “for they will nev­er come to close quar­ters with me if I can keep them off with my bow.”

“Well!” she says, “now I will call to thy mind that slap on the face which thou gavest me; and I care nev­er a whit whether thou hold­est out a long while or a short.”

Then Gun­nar sang a song--

Each who hurls the gory javelin Hath some hon­our of his own, Now my help­meet wim­ple-​hood­ed Hur­ries all my fame to earth. No one own­er of a war-​ship Of­ten asks for lit­tle things, Wom­an, fond of Fro­di's flour,[29] Wends her hand as she is wont.

“Ev­ery one has some­thing to boast of,” says Gun­nar, “and I will ask thee no more for this.”

“Thou be­havest ill,” said Ran­nveig, “and this shame shall long be had in mind.”

Gun­nar made a stout and bold de­fence, and now wounds oth­er eight men with such sore wounds that many lay at death's door. Gun­nar keeps them all off un­til he fell worn out with toil. Then they wound­ed him with many and great wounds, but still he got away out of their hands, and held his own against them a while longer, but at last it came about that they slew him.

Of this de­fence of his, Thorkell the Skald of Gö­ta-​Elf sang in the vers­es which fol­low--

We have heard how south in Ice­land Gun­nar guard­ed well him­self, Bold­ly bat­tle's thun­der wield­ing, Fiercest Ice­man on the wave; Hero of the gold­en col­lar, Six­teen with the sword he wound­ed; In the shock that Odin loveth, Two be­fore him last­ed death.

But this is what Thor­mod Olaf's son sang--

None that scat­tered sea's bright sun­beams,[30] Won more glo­ri­ous fame than Gun­nar, So runs fame of old in Ice­land, Fit­ting fame of hea­then men; Lord of fight when helms were crash­ing, Lives of foe­man twain he took, Wield­ing bit­ter steel he sore­ly Wound­ed twelve, and four be­sides.

Then Gizur spoke and said: “We have now laid low to earth a mighty chief, and hard work has it been, and the fame of this de­fence of his shall last as long as men live in this land”.

Af­ter that he went to see Ran­nveig and said, “Wilt thou grant us earth here for two of our men who are dead, that they may lie in a cairn here?”

“All the more will­ing­ly for two,” she says, “be­cause I wish with all my heart I had to grant it to all of you.”

“It must be for­giv­en thee,” he says, “to speak thus, for thou hast had a great loss.”

Then he gave or­ders that no man should spoil or rob any­thing there.

Af­ter that they went away.

Then Thorgeir Starkad's son said, “We may not be in our house at home for the sons of Sig­fus, un­less thou Gizur or thou Geir be here south some lit­tle while”.

“This shall be so,” says Gizur, and they cast lots, and the lot fell on Geir to stay be­hind.

Af­ter that he came to the Point, and set up his house there; he had a son whose name was Hroald; he was base born, and his moth­er's name was Biartey; he boast­ed that he had giv­en Gun­nar his death-​blow. Hroald was at the Point with his fa­ther.

Thorgeir Starkad's son boast­ed of an­oth­er wound which he had giv­en to Gun­nar.

Gizur sat at home at Moss­fell. Gun­nar's slay­ing was heard of, and ill spo­ken of through­out the whole coun­try, and his death was a great grief to many a man.