Kolbein.—­Why, Brand Kolbeinsson, did you attack and slay Thorolf, our friend?

Broddi.—­I did more to incite men to that than did Brand Kolbeinsson, and we offer to atone for his slaying with much money, if you are willing.

Helga.—­More will be needful than only money.

Brand.—­I thought there was great necessity to do away with Thorolf.

Helga.—­’Perjured men, murder-wolves.’[A] Jorun, your wife, egged you on to take revenge for her father and her brother.

[Footnote A:  Quotation from the Eddic poem Voluspo.]

Brand.—­It is entirely untrue that my wife Jorun egged me on to revenge either her father or brother, even if men have told you so, Kolbein.  About absent people most things can be told.  But for this reason was Thorolf deprived of life, because you had set him as chieftain over the Eyafirth, to succeed you.

Kolbein.—­Never did I do that!

Brand.—­Helga, your wife, affirmed that you had done so.

Helga.—­Certainly you did, my husband.  But, well it may be that at the time you were not in full possession of your senses.

Einar.—­I heard it, my lord, how you set Thorolf chieftain over Eyafirth.  And so no one dare blame Lady Helga for having misheard or mis-stated the matter.

Sigurd.—­You here, Einar the Rich!

Brand.—­Notwithstanding Thorolf’s low descent you gave him preference over chieftains, you gave him authority over men, and you let him journey with you to Rome.  No peacemaker was your Thorolf among men; but a bad companion he was, and me he nicknamed.

Kolbein.—­All that has Thorolf atoned for with his life.  Why, Broddi, did you attack my friend Thorolf?

Broddi.—­I am your brother-in-law, Kolbein, and I owed it to you to avenge insults heaped upon you.  Long had he been faithless to you and cunningly served both you and been a treacherous follower to you both here and abroad.

Helga.—­Easy it is to perceive that Thorolf no longer dwells among the living since he is thus slandered.  For this reason you killed him, because you thought Kolbein to be dead and that Eyafirth had gotten too brave a leader in him.

Brand.—­It casts no good light upon you, my lady, to praise Thorolf Bjarnason thus highly!

Kolbein.—­And what moved you, Alf, to attack Thorolf, my friend?

Alf.—­My hatred of the dog!

Helga.—­Little hope I see of a reconciliation.  One of Thorolf’s slayers dried his blood on the fringes of my veil.  And you, Alf of Grof, you reviled me like the worst witch; you wanted to have a sack pulled over my head.

Kolbein (furious).—­Boor!—­have a sack pulled over her!  A sack,—­you devilish fiend!  What did you cattle mean?  I shall have your skin flayed off you and pull it over your ears after you are dead!  I shall never make peace with Alf of Grof!