Thrain and him. Kari said he would rather not repeat the words
that had passed, “But,” he went on, “it is to be looked for that
the like words will be spoken when ye yourselves can hear them.”
Thrain had fifteen housecarles trained to arms in his house, and
eight of them rode with him whithersoever he went. Thrain was
very fond of show and dress, and always rode in a blue cloak, and
had on a gilded helm, and the spear — the earl’s gift — in his
band, and a fair shield, and a sword at his belt. Along with him
always went Gunnar Lambi’s son, and Lambi Sigurd’s son, and Grani
Gunnar of Lithend’s son. But nearest of all to him went Killing-Hrapp. Lodinn was the name of his serving-man, he too went with
Thrain when he journeyed; Tjorvi was the name of Lodinn’s
brother, and he too was one of Thrain’s band. The worst of all,
in their words against Njal’s sons, were Hrapp and Grani; and it
was mostly their doing that no atonement was offered to them.
Njal’s sons often spoke to Kari that he should ride with them;
and it came to that at last, for he said it would be well that
they heard Thrain’s answer.
Then they busked them, four of Njal’s sons, and Kari the fifth,
and so they fare to Gritwater.
There was a wide porch in the homestead there, so that many men
might stand in it side by side. There was a woman out of doors,
and she saw their coming, and told Thrain of it; he bade them to
go out into the porch, and take their arms, and they did so.
Thrain stood in mid-door, but Killing-Hrapp and Grani Gunnar’s
son stood on either hand of him; then next stood Gunnar Lambi’s
son, then Lodinn and Tjorvi, then Lambi Sigurd’s son; then each
of the others took his place right and left; for the housecarles
were all at home.
Skarphedinn and his men walk up from below, and he went first,
then Kari, then Hauskuld, then Grim, then Helgi. But when they
had come up to the door, then not a word of welcome passed the
lips of those who stood before them.
“May we all be welcome here?” said Skarphedinn.
Hallgerda stood in the porch, and had been talking low to Hrapp,
then she spoke out loud: “None of those who are here will say
that ye are welcome.”
Then Skarphedinn sang a song:
“Prop of sea-waves’ fire (1), thy fretting
Cannot cast a weight on us,
Warriors wight; yes, wolf and eagle
Willingly I feed to-day;
Carline thrust into the ingle,
Or a tramping whore, art thou;
Lord of skates that skim the sea-belt (2),
Odin’s mocking cup (3) I mix”
“Thy words,” said Skarphedinn, “will not be worth much, for thou
art either a hag, only fit to sit in the ingle, or a harlot.”
“These words of thine thou shalt pay for,” she says, “ere thou
farest home.”
