“I don’t think her laughter so hearty as thou dost,” answered Oswif, “but this will be put to the proof by and by.”
So they ride on till they come home, and at night she took her seat by her husband’s side, and made room for Thiostolf next herself on the inside. Thiostolf and Thorwald had little to do with each other, and few words were thrown away between them that winter, and so time went on. Hallgerda was prodigal and grasping, and there was nothing that any of their neighbours had that she must not have too, and all that she had, no matter whether it were her own or belonged to others, she waited. But when the spring came there was a scarcity in the house, both of meal and stock fish, so Hallgerda went up to Thorwald and said—
“Thou must not be sitting indoors any longer, for we want for the house both meal and fish.”
“Well,” said Thorwald, “I did not lay in less for the house this year than I laid in before, and then it used to last till summer.”
“What care I,” said Hallgerda, “if thou and thy father have made your money by starving yourselves.”
Then Thorwald got angry and gave her a blow on the face and drew blood, and went away and called his men and ran the skiff down to the shore. Then six of them jumped into her and rowed out to the Bear-isles, and began to load her with meal and fish.
Meantime it is said that Hallgerda sat out of doors heavy at heart. Thiostolf went up to her and saw the wound on her face, and said—
“Who has been playing thee this sorry trick?”
“My husband Thorwald,” she said, “and thou stoodst aloof, though thou wouldst not if thou hadst cared at all for me.”
“Because I knew nothing about it,” said Thiostolf, “but I will avenge it.”
Then he went away down to the shore and ran out a six-oared boat, and held in his hand a great axe that he had with a haft overlaid with iron. He steps into the boat and rows out to the Bear-isles, and when he got there all the men had rowed away but Thorwald and his followers, and he stayed by the skiff to load her, while they brought the goods down to him. So Thiostolf came up just then and jumped into the skiff and began to load with him, and after a while he said—
“Thou canst do but little at this work, and that little thou dost badly.”
“Thinkest thou thou canst do it better?” said Thorwald.
“There’s one thing to be done which I can do better than thou,” said Thiostolf, and then he went on—
“The woman who is thy wife has made a bad match, and you shall not live much longer together.”
Then Thorwald snatched up a fishing-knife that lay by him, and made a stab at Thiostolf; he had lifted his axe to his shoulder and dashed it down. It came on Thorwald’s arm and crushed the wrist, but down fell the knife. Then Thiostolf lifted up his axe a second time and gave Thorwald a blow on the head, and he fell dead on the spot.