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The winds at Vitar were changeable and therefore I stayed put. One day there was a good breeze so I put out to sea and let the boat drift on its own. Again a wind came up and I allowed the boat to be pushed wherever it chose to go.

We approached Herle Island. I sent a man on land to determine what was occurring there.

When he returned he told me that the king’s son, Rognvald, was there with companions. They were all drunk out of their minds. He also found out that there was another drinking party going on at Berg-Onunds place.

I put a smaller boat to use and took several men with me. We reached land. I told the men to stay with the boat while I scouted out the farm where the drinking party was occurring.

I ran into a man who asked me if I was looking for ‘the bear’. He continued on and told me there was a vicious bear killing livestock. I told him yes, I had just seen it and to go tell the men in the hall to come help me kill it

The ruse worked fine. First I rattled the leaves and Berg-Onund came towards me. We threw our spears at each other. I turned my shield a little so that his spear glanced off to the side. Berg-Onund held his straight and my spear went through. Berg-Onund could no longer hold the shield up and abandoned it. I drove my sword through him. As I withdrew it he started to fall. I took a mighty swing at his neck and came close to cutting his head off. I then withdrew my spear from his shield

The two other men came to see what the ruckus was about. I sent my spear through the first man’s shield so hard that it went through him also. It came out his back. The other man was no match for my sword. All three were lying dead when a herdsman decided to see what was going on.

I told him to watch over his master Berg-Onund and his companions so that the birds and beasts would not rip up their corpses. I returned to my men at the boat.

When they asked what had happened I made up a verse.

Too much have I suffered

The malice of this miser,

More prudent in past days

Was I with my weapons.

These warriors will not wake,

Not from the wounds that I gave them,

A blood-coif I bestowed

On earth, Odin’s bed mate.



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