Flosi sent word to Kol Thorstein’s son, and Glum the son of Hilldir the old, the son of Gerleif, the son of Aunund wallet-back, and to Modolf Kettle’s son, and they all rode to meet Flosi.

Hall gave his word, too, to gather a great company, and Flosi rode till he came to Kirkby, to Surt Asbjorn’s son.  Then Flosi sent after Kolbein Egil’s son, his brother’s son, and he came to him there.  Thence he rode to Headbrink.  There dwelt Thorgrim the showy, the son of Thorkel the fair.  Flosi begged him to ride to the Althing with him, and he said yea to the journey, and spoke thus to Flosi—­

“Often hast thou been more glad, master, than thou art now, but thou hast some right to be so.”

“Of a truth,” said Flosi, “that hath now come on my hands, which I would give all my goods that it had never happened.  Ill seed has been sown, and so an ill crop will spring from it.”

Thence he rode over Arnstacksheath, and so to Solheim that evening.  There dwelt Lodmund Wolf’s son, but he was a great friend of Flosi, and there he stayed that night, and next morning Lodmund rode with him into the Dale.

There dwelt Runolf, the son of Wolf Aurpriest.

Flosi said to Runolf—­

“Here we shall have true stories as to the slaying of Hauskuld, the Priest of Whiteness.  Thou art a truthful man, and hast got at the truth by asking, and I will trust to all that thou tellest me as to what was the cause of quarrel between them.”

“There is no good in mincing the matter,” said Runolf, “but we must say outright that he has been slain for less than no cause; and his death is a great grief to all men.  No one thinks it so much a loss as Njal, his foster-father.”

“Then they will be ill off for help from men,” says Flosi; “and they will find no one to speak up for them.”

“So it will be,” says Runolf, “unless it be otherwise foredoomed.”

“What has been done in the suit?” says Flosi.

“Now the neighbours have been summoned on the inquest,” says Runolf, “and due notice given of the suit for manslaughter.”

“Who took that step?” asks Flosi.

“Mord Valgard’s son,” says Runolf.

“How far is that to be trusted?” says Flosi.

“He is of my kin,” says Runolf; “but still, if I tell the truth of him, I must say that more men reap ill than good from him.  But this one thing I will ask of thee, Flosi, that thou givest rest to thy wrath, and takest the matter up in such a way as may lead to the least trouble.  For Njal will make a good offer, and so will others of the best men.”

“Ride thou then to the Thing, Runolf,” said Flosi, “and thy words shall have much weight with me, unless things turn out worse than they should.”

After that they cease speaking about it, and Runolf promised to go to the Thing.

Runolf sent word to Hatr the wise, his kinsman, and he rode thither at once.