“They call thee Swanhild the Fatherless,” he answered, “but I think that Loki, the God of Guile, was thy father, for there is none to match thee in craft and evil-doing, and in beauty one only.  I know thy plots well and all the sorrow that thou hast brought upon us.  Still, each seeks honour after his own manner, so seek thou as thou wilt; but thou shalt find bitterness and empty days, and thy plots shall come back on thine own head—­yes, even though they bring Gudruda and me to sorrow and death.”

Swanhild laughed.  “A day shall dawn, Eric, when thou who dost hate me shalt hold me dear, and this I promise thee.  Another thing I promise thee also:  that Gudruda shall never call thee husband.”

But Eric did not answer, fearing lest in his anger he should say words that were better unspoken.

Now men rose and sat down to meat, and all talked of the wrestling that should be.  But in the morning Ospakar repented of the match, for it is truly said that ale is another man, and men do not like that in the morning which seemed well enough on yester eve.  He remembered that he held Whitefire dear above all things, and that Eric’s eye had no worth to him, except that the loss of it would spoil his beauty, so that perhaps Gudruda would turn from him.  It would be very ill if he should chance to lose the play—­though of this he had no fear, for he was held the strongest man in Iceland and the most skilled in all feats of strength—­and, at the best, no fame is to be won from the overthrow of a deedless man, and the plucking out of his eye.  Thus it came to pass that when he saw Eric he called to him in a big voice: 

“Hearken, thou Eric.”

“I hear thee, thou Ospakar,” said Eric, mocking him, and people laughed; while Ospakar grinned angrily and said, “Thou must learn manners, puppy.  Still, I shall find no honour in teaching thee in this wise.  Last night we made a match in our cups, and I staked my sword Whitefire and thou thine eye.  It would be bad that either of us should lose sword or eye; therefore, what sayest thou, shall we let it pass?”

“Ay, Blacktooth, if thou fearest; but first pay thou forfeit of the sword.”

Now Ospakar grew very mad and shouted, “Thou wilt indeed stand against me in the ring!  I will break thy back anon, youngster, and afterwards tear out thine eye before thou diest.”

“It may so befall,” answered Eric, “but big words do not make big deeds.”

Presently the light came and thralls went out with spades and cleared away the snow in a circle two rods across, and brought dry sand and sprinkled it on the frozen turf, so that the wrestlers should not slip.  And they piled the snow in a wall around the ring.

But Groa came up to Ospakar and spoke to him apart.

“Knowest thou, lord,” she said, “that my heart bodes ill of this match?  Eric is a mighty man, and, great though thou art, I think that thou shalt lout low before him.”