The Feuds & the Law
Gunnarr of Hlíðarendi
The man who never missed
There was a man named Gunnarr, of Hlíðarendi in the Fljótshlíð, and the saga lingers on him the way it lingers on no one else. He could cut, thrust, or shoot equally well with either hand; he swung a sword so fast that three blades seemed to flash in the air at once. He could leap his own height in full armour — and as far backwards as forwards. He never missed with a bow. He was handsome, fair, courteous, open-handed, a fast friend and slow to anger.[1]
It is almost too much, and the saga knows it. A man this gifted has only one direction left to travel. His brother Kolskeggr stood beside him in everything; his friend Njáll of Bergþórshváll — wise, beardless, the finest lawyer in the land — would spend the whole story trying, and failing, to steer him clear of his fate.[2]
The source text · 2
There was a man whose name was Gunnar. He was one of Unna's kinsmen, and his mother's name was Rannveig. Gunnar's father was named Hamond. Gunnar Hamond's son dwelt at Lithend, in the Fleetlithe. He was a tall man in growth, and a strong man - best skilled in arms of all men. He could cut or thrust or shoot if he chose as well with his left as with his right hand, and he smote so swiftly with his sword, that three seemed to flash through the air at once. He was the best shot with the bow of all men, and never missed his mark. He could leap more than his own height, with all his war-gear, and as far backwards as forwards. He could swim like a seal, and there was no game in which it was any good for anyone to strive with him; and so it has been said that no man was his match. He was handsome of feature, and fair skinned. His nose was straight, and a little turned up at the end. He was blue-eyed and bright-eyed, and ruddy-cheeked. His hair thick, and of good hue, and hanging down in comely curls. The most courteous of men was he, of sturdy frame and strong will, bountiful and gentle, a fast friend, but hard to please when making them. He was wealthy in goods. His brother's name was Kolskegg; he was a tall strong man, a noble fellow, and undaunted in everything. Another brother's name was Hjort; he was then in his childhood. Orm Skogarnef was a base-born brother of Gunnar's; he does not come into this story. Arnguda was the name of Gunnar's sister. Hroar, the priest at Tongue, had her to wife.— njals saga
Gunnarr introduced, in Dasent's 1861 translation.
There was a man whose name was Njal. He was the son of Thorgeir Gelling, the son of Thorolf. Njal's mother's name was Asgerda. Njal dwelt at Bergthorsknoll in the land-isles; he had another homestead on Thorolfsfell. Njal was wealthy in goods, and handsome of face; no beard grew on his chin. He was so great a lawyer, that his match was not to be found. Wise too he was, and foreknowing and foresighted. Of good counsel, and ready to give it, and all that he advised men was sure to be the best for them to do. Gentle and generous, he unravelled every man's knotty points who came to see him about them. Bergthora was his wife's name; she was Skarphedinn's daughter, a very high-spirited, brave-hearted woman, but somewhat hard-tempered. They had six children, three daughters and three sons, and they all come afterwards into this story.— njals saga
Njáll and his household.
A scarlet cloak at the Thing
At the Alþingi, dressed in the scarlet King Harald had given him and a gold ring from Earl Hákon, Gunnarr was a sight men left their booths to see. And walking toward him, just as splendid, came a woman in a red kirtle and a needle-worked scarlet cloak, her fair hair to her waist. She spoke first — boldly — and asked him to tell her of his travels. They sat and talked a long time. Her name was Hallgerðr.[1]
It went the way such talk goes. Was she unmarried? She was — “and there are not many who would run the risk of that.” How would she answer, he asked, if he asked for her? Go and see my father, she said. He went that hour.
Her uncle Hrútr would not lie to him: “Thou art a brisk brave man, well to do, and unblemished; but she is much mixed up with ill report.” It was, Hrútr said plainly, no even match. Gunnarr heard every word of the warning — and married her anyway.[2]
The source text · 2
It happened one day that Gunnar went away from the Hill of Laws, and passed by the booths of the men from Mossfell; then he saw a woman coming to meet him, and she was in goodly attire; but when they met she spoke to Gunnar at once. He took her greeting well, and asks what woman she might be. She told him her name was Hallgerda, and said she was Hauskuld's daughter, Dalakoll's son. She spoke up boldly to him, and bade him tell her of his voyages; but he said he would not gainsay her a talk. Then they sat them down and talked. She was so clad that she had on a red kirtle, and had thrown over her a scarlet cloak trimmed with needlework down to the waist. Her hair came down to her bosom, and was both fair and full. Gunnar was clad in the scarlet clothes which King Harold Gorm's son had given him; he had also the gold ring on his arm which Earl Hacon had given him.— njals saga
Gunnarr meets Hallgerða at the Thing.
Hrut spoke - "In this wise will I answer thee about this matter, as is the very truth. Thou art a brisk brave man, well to do, and unblemished; but she is much mixed up with ill report, and I will not cheat thee in anything."— njals saga
Hrút's warning: 'she is much mixed up with ill report.'
Njáll's foreboding
Gunnarr rode home by way of Bergþórshváll to tell Njáll of the match. Njáll took it heavily. Why so unwise? Gunnarr asked. “Because from her,” said Njáll, “will arise all kind of ill if she comes hither east.”[1]
“Never shall she spoil our friendship,” Gunnarr said — the kind of vow a saga records only so it can be tested. Njáll did not argue the point so much as widen it: not only might she come between them, “thou wilt have always to make atonement for her.” It was exact prophecy. For the rest of his life Gunnarr would be paying, in silver and in blood, for the things his wife set in motion.
The source text · 1
Gunnar rode home from the Thing, and came to Bergthorsknoll, and told Njal of the bargain he had made. He took it heavily.— njals saga
Njáll's foreboding over the marriage.
The slap
The trouble came as Njáll said it would, and it came over food. In a hard season Hallgerða sent a slave to steal cheese and butter from Otkell's store at Kirkby — a neighbour who had refused to sell Gunnarr supplies. When Gunnarr found the stolen food on his table, he understood at once where it came from.[1]
He struck her. One blow, across the face, in front of the household. “Never shall I be a receiver of stolen goods,” he told her — and Hallgerða, who forgot nothing, told him she would remember that slap and pay it back when it would cost him most.[2] It is one of the coldest promises in the sagas, and unlike most threats in this story, it is kept to the letter.
The source text · 2
Now Gunnar is about to ride to the Thing, but a great crowd of men from the Side east turned in as guests at his house.— njals saga
Hallgerða has Otkell's store robbed.
Now Gunnar is about to ride to the Thing, but a great crowd of men from the Side east turned in as guests at his house.— njals saga
Gunnarr strikes Hallgerða; she vows to repay it.
The spur in the ear
Otkell would not let the theft lie, and one spring it turned to blood almost by accident. Gunnarr was alone in his cornfield, sowing, his fine cloak and his axe laid aside — when Otkell, galloping his racing horses out of control down the slope, rode clean over him and drove a spur into Gunnarr's ear, gashing it so it bled at once.[1]
Gunnarr held his temper, even then. “Thou hast drawn my blood,” he said, “and it is unworthy to go on so.” But Otkell's vicious companion Skamkell could not leave it — he mocked Gunnarr afterward at Dale, saying that a low-born man in Gunnarr's place would have been said to have wept.[2] In a saga, an insult about weeping is a death warrant. Gunnarr's only answer had been quiet: “When we two next meet, thou shalt see the bill.”
The source text · 2
Now, it must be told how Otkell rides faster than he would. He had spurs on his feet, and so he gallops down over the ploughed field, and neither of them sees the other; and just as Gunnar stands upright, Otkell rides down upon him, and drives one of the spurs into Gunnar's ear, and gives him a great gash, and it bleeds at once much.— njals saga
Otkell spurs Gunnarr in the ear in the cornfield.
"Why," said Skamkell, "if it were a low-born man it would have been said that he had wept."— njals saga
Skamkell's mockery: that Gunnarr 'wept.'
Blood by the Rangá
When Otkell's band rode his way again, Gunnarr armed in silence — and his bill sang aloud as he took it down, a sound his mother Rannveig heard across the house. “Wrathful art thou now, my son,” she said; “never saw I thee thus before.”[1] Hallgerða, hearing the same omen, said only that now they would see whether he went off weeping.
At the ford of the Rangá he waited for them, and told them plainly it was time to find out whether he shed a single tear. They came at him eight together. He drove his shield so hard into the earth it stood fast, brandished his sword too fast for any eye to follow, caught a hurled spear out of the air and flung it back through shield and man both. With Kolskeggr at his side he killed eight, Otkell and Skamkell among them.[2]
Riding home, Gunnarr said the thing that is the whole key to him: “I would like to know whether I am by so much the less brisk and bold than other men, because I think more of killing men than they do.” He is the deadliest man in Iceland and the one who least wants to be.
The source text · 2
The lad laid him down and fell asleep at once, but Gunnar took the shepherd's horse and laid his saddle on him; he took his shield, and girded him with his sword, Oliver's gift; he sets his helm on his head; takes his bill, and something sung loud in it, and his mother, Rannveig, heard it. She went up to him and said, "Wrathful art thou now, my son, and never saw I thee thus before".— njals saga
The bill sings; Rannveig's warning.
Gunnar called out to them and said, "Now is the time to guard yourselves; here now is the bill, and here now ye will put it to the proof whether I shed one tear for all of you".— njals saga
The fight at the ford; Otkell and Skamkell killed.
Mörðr's long plot
Killing Otkell only made Gunnarr more enemies, and the cleverest of them, Mörðr Valgarðsson, understood that Gunnarr could not be beaten in the open — only manoeuvred into the one fatal mistake. Mörðr's counsel to Þorgeir, son of the slain Otkell, was patient and cold: provoke Gunnarr by degrees, and above all do not attack him at home — “there is no thinking of that while the hound is alive.”[1]
So they lay in wait at the Rangá again. As Gunnarr rode up, blood burst out on his bill once more — “wound-drops,” he called it, an omen Óláfr had taught him came only before great fights.[2] In the battle Gunnarr drove his bill through Þorgeir Otkellsson and cast him into the river. It was the killing he could not afford: the second death within a single family — exactly the line Njáll had told him never to cross. Even Rannveig, when she heard, said she felt too downcast to believe good could come of it.
The source text · 2
Mord said so it should be. "But now this is my counsel, that thou, Thorgeir Otkell's son shouldest beguile Ormilda, Gunnar's kinswoman; but Gunnar will let his displeasure grow against thee at that, and then I will spread that story abroad that Gunnar will not suffer thee to do such things."— njals saga
Mörðr's plot; 'while the hound is alive.'
Gunnar gave the shield such a sharp twist that the spearhead broke short off at the socket. Gunnar sees that another man was come within reach of his sword, and he smites at him and deals him his death-blow. After that, he clutches his bill with both hands; just then Thorgeir Otkell's son had come near him with a drawn sword, and Gunnar turns on him in great wrath, and drives the bill through him, and lifts him up aloft, and casts him out into Rangriver, and he drifts down towards the ford, and stuck fast there on a stone; and the name of that ford has since been Thorgeir's ford.— njals saga
Gunnarr kills Þorgeir Otkellsson — the second killing in one family.
The atonement, and the sentence
The suits piled up at the Thing, and this time even Gunnarr's friends could not save him from the consequence. A settlement was reached and a sentence handed down: Gunnarr and Kolskeggr were to leave Iceland for three years' exile. To break it — to refuse to go — would be to make himself an outlaw any man could kill.[1]
Kolskeggr made ready to sail and keep faith with the settlement. Gunnarr rode down with him toward the waiting ship. Everything Njáll had foreseen — the atonements, the killings, the slow narrowing — had brought him to this single ride to the coast, and one last choice.
The source text · 1
Thrain Sigfus' son said to his wife that he meant to fare abroad that summer. She said that was well. So he took his passage with Hogni the white.— njals saga
The settlement and the three-year exile sentence.
The fair hillside
And then the most famous swerve in the saga. Riding down to the ship that would carry him to safety, Gunnarr's horse stumbled and threw him — and as he rose, his eye fell on the slope of home. The hillside had never looked so fair to him, he said, with its pale cornfields and its mown meadows; and he turned his horse and rode back, and would not leave Iceland after all.[1]
It is not stupidity and it is not quite courage; it is a man choosing his own land over his own life, with full knowledge of the price. To stay is to be a lawful target for every enemy he has made. Gunnarr stays. Kolskeggr sails. The brothers never see each other again — and the genuine words Gunnarr spoke on that hillside wait beneath this step, in the old translation.
The source text · 1
"Fair is the Lithe; so fair that it has never seemed to me so fair; the corn fields are white to harvest, and the home mead is mown; and now I will ride back home, and not fare abroad at all."— njals saga
Gunnarr looks back — 'Fair is the Lithe' — and turns home.
The roof comes off
They came for him at Hlíðarendi — forty men under Gizurr the White — and found him alone in his hall but for his wife and his mother. The first man to climb the roof saw a red kirtle pass a window-slit and took Gunnarr's bill through the middle; he toppled down dead, and when Gizurr asked if Gunnarr was home, the dying man's answer is pure saga: “Find that out for yourselves; but this I am sure of, that his bill is at home.”[1]
From the loft Gunnarr held forty men off with his bow alone, beating back onslaught after onslaught. They could do nothing — until Mörðr thought of the ropes, and they twisted the very roof off his hall to get at him. Still he shot. Then a man sprang up and cut his bowstring.[2]
The source text · 2
Thorgrim the Easterling went and began to climb up on the hall; Gunnar sees that a red kirtle passed before the windowslit, and thrusts out the bill, and smote him on the middle. Thorgrim's feet slipped from under him, and he dropped his shield, and down he toppled from the roof.— njals saga
The attack begins; 'his bill is at home.'
Some ropes lay there on the ground, and they were often used to strengthen the roof. Then Mord said - "Let us take the ropes and throw one end over the end of the carrying beams, but let us fasten the other end to these rocks and twist them tight with levers, and so pull the roof off the hall."— njals saga
Mörðr's plan: pull the roof off the hall.
Two locks of hair
With his bowstring gone, Gunnarr turned to Hallgerða and asked for two locks of her long hair, to twist into a new string. “Does aught lie on it?” she asked. “My life lies on it,” he said — “for they will never come to close quarters with me if I can keep them off with my bow.”[1]
She said: “Now I will call to thy mind that slap on the face which thou gavest me; and I care never a whit whether thou holdest out a long while or a short.”
He did not ask again. “Every one has something to boast of,” he said, and turned back to the fight. He held them off with sword and bill until he fell worn out, wounding sixteen men before the end. His mother Rannveig would not let the bill go into his cairn — it was for whoever would avenge him.[2] Gunnarr's death was ill spoken of throughout the land, and grieved many a man; and the slap he gave his wife had cost him, in the end, exactly his life.
The source text · 2
Then Gunnar said to Hallgerda, "Give me two locks of thy hair, and ye two, my mother and thou, twist them together into a bowstring for me."— njals saga
Gunnarr asks for her hair; the refusal.
They cast a cairn over Gunnar, and made him sit upright in the cairn. Rannveig would not hear of his bill being buried in the cairn, but said he alone should have it as his own, who was ready to avenge Gunnar. So no one took the bill.— njals saga
Rannveig keeps the bill for the avenger.
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