Arinbjorn, Asgerd, Bard, Bera, Bjorgolf, Bjorn, Borg, Brynjolf, Egil, Eirik Bloodaxe, England, Eyvind, Finnmark, Fjord Province, Geir, Grim, Gunnhild, Halberd, Hallvard, Halogaland, Hildirid, Hildiridarsons, Hogni, Iceland, intrigue, Isle of Torg, Karelians, Ketil Trout, King Arnvid, King Faravid, King Harald, Kveldulf, Kvenland, Kylfings, Lapps, Namdalen, Norway, Olvir, Oslo Fjord, Sandness, Scandanavia, Shape-changer, Sigrid, Sigtrygg, Skallagrimsson, slander, Snorri Sturluson, Sweden, Thora, Thorgils Gjallandi, Thorolf, Thorunn, treachery, Trondheim, Vikings, Yngvar
Olvir, myself and others had arrived to collect rents on property. The caretaker, Bard, gave us sour whey, sour curds, and straw to sleep on.
That evening King Eirik and Gunnhild arrived for the feast of the Fates. Nothing but the best was provided and there was much to drink in the main hall. When the king asked where Bard was someone said he was looking after his guests. The king was a little put out to think that Bard’s guests came before him. Then someone told the king who the visitors were.
“Bring them here to join us” shouted the king.
The king gave Olvir a hight seat opposite himself with Olvirs companions seated below. The king told me to sit next to Olvir. I was pleased with that.
As the night wore on many of Olvir’s companions became drunk and spewed right there in the hall. Few made it outside. Bard made sure they had more drink and specifically told me that I looked very thirsty and should have another horn-full. I drank the horn and made this verse.
To this enemy of ogres
You spoke of an ale-drought,
While you stood at the sacrifice,
You shifty grave-breaker;
Your guests little guessed
They’d be greated with lies;
Behold the truth-blaster,
Bard told me to drink up and stop making slanderous verses.
I drank a toast that came my way and Olvir’s share also. Then Bard went to the Queen and told her that I was drinking and making slanderous statements. Bard and the Queen decided to put poison in a drink and had a serving girl bring it over to me.
I drew my knife and slashed my own hand. I then carved runic letters on the horn and rubbed my hand on it. The blood highlighted the runes. I then made a verse.
Carve runes on the horn,
Rub them with red blood,
With these words I bewitch
The horn of the wild ox;
Let’s swallow and sup
This slave-girl’s brew,
With the blessing of Bard
This beer should do much for us.