One morning a man known as Thurm Blunderson, who was renowned for his ability to hurl the kotkel, was leading a dozen horses and colts down from summer pasturage, to spend the winter at his farm at the head of the Hvummersfjord. It was a fine morning on which the sun was burning off a light frost. As he passed near the barn of Olaf Smorf, a man who was quick to anger, Thurm allowed his horses to slake their thirst at a pond. Seeing this, Olaf's wife, Odd, went to Olaf and said, "Guess what, there are a dozen horses slaking their thirst at your pond."
Enraged, Olaf buckled on his sword and sheepskin helmet and ran to the pond, addressing Thurm in the following words: "What are your animals slaking in my pond?" Thurm replied, "Their thirst, and as I am a reasonable man, I will offer you compensation." And he took from his haversack a dozen fish sandwiches, one for each steed whose thirst had been slaked. "Look, herring. Caught yesterday."
But his accuser replied, "As my name is Olaf I despise this form of seafood.
Because you have added insult to injury, I claim as recompense your gem-studded axe, though it be a gift of the Norwegian king herself."
Thurm calmly responded, "Hold on there, if I give you this axe, which was indeed a gift of King Hirsulf of Norway, it will not be in a manner that is to your liking. I have offered you compensation that is more than fair, and now I will depart. Giddy-up!" But as he departed, Olaf cursed him, saying, "I predict that all of these beasts will outlive you, including that one with the oozing sores on its forelegs. Plus, your sister will marry a lemming."
During that winter the matter simmered unresolved. Olaf went to his cousin Zesti Snorkelson, the son of his uncle Feldspar the Thrifty, seeking support. Zesti said, "I fear no good will come of this, and I urge you to compromise. Nevertheless as I am bound by kinship, I will accompany you if it comes to that." And Olaf also went to his neighbour Erm the son of Halbert the Nose-talker, and also to Ingmar the Over-rated and Tom the Big, who possessed a quadruple-bladed axe known as Tearjerker, with which he had administered many a thorough lopping. And he similarly received their reluctant support, as well as that of others whose names, addresses and dates of birth are not mentioned in the saga.
At the spring assembly, Thurm presented the charges against Olaf, saying that he was overly fond of his pond and given to cursing unnecessarily, and concluding with charges of general curmudgeonliness and blindness of the left eye.
His oration included several gems of folk wisdom which have been preserved for us through the centuries, such as, "Give a man a carp and you feed him for a day; teach a man to carp and you'll never hear the end of it." As well as the observation, "It is easier to duck a question than to question a duck." Other sayings, possibly even better, have been lost in the bogs of time and/or peat.
As tradition dictates, Olaf responded with a defense of, Oh yeah? The court imposed a token compensation of one eighth of an eyrir, and required both of them to knock it off immediately.
Following the assembly, Thurm Blunderson's most direct route homeward would require him to pass again beside the farm of Olaf Smorf. Knowing of Olaf's reputation, Thurm's friends counselled him to take a different road, offering him accommodation along the way, including a full breakfast and fresh towels. But Thurm said, "I do not propose to go out of my way for a man so uncouth as Olaf. If I am challenged, I will defend myself.
"
So that same afternoon he left his booth at the assembly and began to journey homeward, accompanied by a group of friends and kinsmen, eight in number, including Clogg Stormguttir, Rudi the Pale, Fractil Ampersand, Vigdis the Uncertain, and his son Stan the Unnecessary. That evening they camped in a wooded valley below a ridge that marked the boundary of Olaf's farm.
Early the next morning, a boy of Olaf's household, taking a calf to the pasture, happened to notice a glint of sunlight reflecting from the wood. After making careful observations, he ran back to the house to inform Olaf that something was afoot. Olaf asked him to describe what he had seen.
"I have seen a large and powerful man, yet hunch-backed and with a capacious nose. He has a scar on his right cheek, and is riding a horse with a tail that is unusually short."
"You have observed well, Thorgerd. That man is Hrust Hundebar, who two years ago bought the farm of Strudel the Unregulated. What else did you notice?"
"There is a short man with red hair that extends almost to his waist.
He is lacking two fingers on his left hand, walks like a girl, and wears wolf-skin trousers."
"Your eyes are sharp, Thornclm. That is Kurli Kurlisson, renowned for his skill with the broadsword and for the snugness of his undergarments. Did you observe more?"
"There is a young man of average height whose brow is without blemish. He has ... "
"Say no more, Tondergort. That young man is Flurri Endinglater, son of Randi the Smart, who once sold my Uncle Arn a plot of land situated between two geysers which steamed relentlessly. His mother is said to be Gudrun Finsdottir, famous for her eyelashes, among other things. Truly your powers of discernment are extraordinary and your memory is immense. What else?"
"There is also a most remarkable man whose description I have been saving for last. He is a giant of well over three creegs in height, with a huge purple wart under his left eye. On this eye he wears an eyepatch bearing a sea lion motif. His head is almost entirely bald, which he tries to conceal by means of a crude comb-over."
"That could be practically anybody, Tondef. Give me some details."
"He has also a wooden leg, the right. And his horses's saddle is emblazoned with fine Turkish needlework."
"You're not giving me much to go on here, Tuthpik. Did you see what kind of tunic he had on?"
"Pink with mauve stripes."
"Vertical or horizontal?"
"Well, he was sort of leaning against his horse."
"No, you idiot, the stripes! Were they vertical or horizontal?"
"Vertical, I think.
"
"Well, was it a mohair or more of a silk brocade?"
"I didn't get a good feel. His trousers were a soft cotton, but then he started to back away."
"Okay, forget it. Sharpen that axe and let's get going."
The story now returns to the party of Thurm Blunderson, who had finished breakfasting and begun to ride up the hill upon which was situated Olaf's farmhouse. As they reached the crest, Olaf's party, which consisted of thirteen men, emerged suddenly from the doors and windows, blocking the way. Olaf said, "You will now perhaps regret the course you have taken."
But Thurm said to his companions: "If any of you wish to retreat, you are free to do so. As for myself, I will keep to the path I have chosen, rather than devalue my name at the threat of this churl. Though we be outnumbered, indeed even if I fight alone, I believe our party will account itself favourably."
At that he hurled his spear with great force. Although it was deflected by the top of the shield of a man called Orvil Shortbred, it nevertheless pierced him just below the throat, and then passed through two other men in a similar manner. Finally the spear-tip was lodged deeply in the wall of the house, so that all three men were suspended with their legs dangling. They were later buried together in a place which to this day is known as the Mound of the Kebab.
The battle then raged relentlessly. Many severe blows were struck with swords and axes. At one point Thurm, being attacked by three men, sustained a serious wound in the right shoulder, such that he never fully recovered the use of that arm. Nevertheless he continued to fight valiantly until he struck an immense blow with his gem-studded axe, a gift of the King of Norway. This blow cleaved Olaf, beginning at the head and proceeding downward, resulting in Olaf's immediate death and bifurcation. This marked the end of the battle, which had abbreviated the lives of several men on each side. The survivors and non-survivors alike derived great honour from this encounter.
The residue of Thurm's party arrived at his house that evening, where his wife Hondvul had laid out bowls of steaming lentil soup, for which she was famous.
This is the end of the story of Olaf. Thurm's story is taken up later.
Mary Lang
2018-04-08
John, I had a lovely time reading your short story. The Saga of the People of Laxardal certainly influenced your writing style here. Great fun. Don't stop writing. I always enjoy reading of your adventures.
Nicole Khi
2018-04-18
Did you write this? It's brilliant!