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Page 2
_Sigurd_.--Wicked speech this is and witless.
(_Enter_ BRAND KOLBEINSSON, BRODDI THORLEIFSSON, HELGI SKAFTASON, _and
others_.)
_Brand_.--You here, Thorolf Bjarnason?
_Thorolf_.--Ay, sir; and with a message for you, for Broddi, and for
other chieftains, from Kolbein the Young.
_Brand_.--Is it that Thord Kakali is expected from the West with war?
_Thorolf_.--Not to my knowledge. He is still busy drinking the arvel
after Tumi his brother, whom we put to death this last week!
_Alf_.--Yes, and he and his men are now drinking the ale by the bowlful,
they say.
_Brand_.--What of it, if Thord does give his men in plenty?
_Thorolf_.--And why should we not speak of it, we who know what folly it
is for men to drink heavily before going to war?
_Einar_.--A generous chieftain is Thord Kakali, and likely to accomplish
great deeds. No chieftain in this land has ever lost so many men as has
he. It is not seeming to make sport of his sorrow.
_Thorolf_.--None have I ever seen flee so fast as these men of Thord's,
they urge each other on to flight.
_Brand_.--Idle speech is this, Thorolf!
_Thorolf_.--I say what I will, and care not whether others like it or
no.
_Broddi_.--Where is the message my brother-in-law sends us?
_Thorolf_ (_handing the letter to_ BRAND).--I have lived all my life in
warfare and am not able to read.
_Brand_ (_handing the letter to_ DEACON SIGURD).--Read for us, deacon!
_Einar the Rich_ (_while_ SIGURD _is undoing the strings with which the
parchment is tied, aside to_ ALF OF GROF).--I know you are no friend of
Thorolf; stay behind here and help me to persuade Brand Kolbeinsson.
_Alf_ (_aside to_ EINAR THE RICH).--Broddi and all of Thorolf's
neighbors hate him because he elbows himself forward ruthlessly. Against
my will I left my home with Thorolf; but how shall I help you?
_Einar_ (_aside to_ ALF).--Help me dye Thorolf's white coat of mail as
red as blood.
_Alf_ (_aside_).--Hush! We would have to fight against great odds.
_Einar_ (_aside_).--Not if Brand Kolbeinsson were on our side.
_Alf_ (_aside_).--Brand--indeed! No, if Broddi Thorleifsson were with
us.
_Sigurd_ (_has now untied the parchment, reads_).--'To Brand Kolbeinsson
of Stad, to Broddi Thorleifsson, to Kolbein Kaldaljos, and to Paul
Kolbeinsson, Kolbein Arnorsson of Flugumyr sends God's greetings and his
own. Little we know of Thord Kakali's affairs after Easter. After the
slaying of his brother Tumi it is but likely that he is preparing for
war against us, and in such case, if he came upon us from the West, we
of the North Quarter would want to subject him to a severe test. But now
it is so ill with our health that we may no longer conceal it from you.
Because of this it is our will that all of you meet me here as soon as
possible. Only in this wise may we prevent the danger now threatening
both the entire quarter and our district.'
_Brand_.--To what danger to the district does the letter refer? Is
Kinsman Kolbein sick anew, then?
_Thorolf_.--Answer that yourself; but well may these words mean that it
were better now to take off the 'velvet glove' and bestir one's hands.
_Brand_ (_angrily_).--Get you gone, Thorolf, at once! Astonishing it
is that you should be sent hither to Stad, such enemies as we two have
been.
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