About nine hundred years ago, more or less, there lived in Iceland, at
a homestead called Biarg, two old folks named Asmund the Greyhaired
and his wife Asdis. At the time our story begins they had two sons,
Atli the eldest, and Grettir, besides daughters; sixteen years later
another son was born to them, named Illugi. Atli was a general
favourite, in disposition good-natured and yielding, in this the very
opposite of Grettir, who held to his own way, and was, besides,
silent, reserved, and rough in manner. But he is described as fair to
look on, broad-faced, short-faced, red-haired and much freckled, not
of quick growth in his childhood. There was little love lost between
him and his father, but his mother loved the boy right well. So
matters sped till Grettir was ten years old, when, one day, his father
told him to go and watch the geese on the farm, fifty of them, besides
many goslings. The boy went, but with an ill grace, and shortly
afterwards the geese were found all dead or dying, with many of their
necks wrung, at which Asmund was mightily vexed. Again, one evening,
being cold, he asked the boy to warm him by rubbing his back, but
Grettir, taking up a wool-carder's comb, dropped it down his father's
back. The old man was furiously angry, and would have beaten Grettir,
had he not run away, while Asdis, though vexed, tried her best to make
peace between them.
Next, Grettir was sent to tend the horses, amongst which was a
favourite mare called Keingala, who always preferred the coldest and
windiest spots to graze in; the boy was ill-clad and half-starved with
cold, so, by way of paying Keingala out for her uncomfortable choice
of pasture, he drew a sharp knife right across her shoulder and along
both sides of her back. When Asmund next saw the mare and stroked her
back, the hide came off beneath his hand. He taxed Grettir with the
deed, but the boy sneered mockingly and said nothing. Keingala had to
be killed. Such and many other scurvy tricks did Grettir play in his
childhood, but meanwhile he grew in body and strength, though none as
yet knew him to be strong beyond his years.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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