THE SCENE: In the passage below, Hrolf takes a ridiculously long-winded and convoluted approach to telling one of his enemies, “your father fucked horses.”
THE TEXT: When they met, the king asked who they might be, shouting so loudly – “are you going out ahead of the king’s battle lines?”
Hrossthjof said his name.
Hrolf said, “I’m quite familiar with your family. Your father Hrosskel was a great friend of my father King Gautrek, and they used to exchange gifts. But since you’re threatening to fight me, I want to tell you a little story and make your lineage known to you. Your father came to Gautland once, as he often did. My father welcomed him warmly and invited him to a feast, and he accepted and was received most richly. He stayed there for a long time. My father had splendid treasures. One was a stud horse, a large and beautiful stallion, dapple-grey in color, along with four mares. At their parting, King Gautrek gave your father many splendid and costly treasures, and he gave him his stud-horse.
Your father was very pleased with the treasure and gifts, but most of all with the horses, and he thanked King Gautrek for the gift with many fine words. They parted, and your father went home with the horses. He took care of them carefully and visited them every day. And it wasn’t long before men found out that your father didn’t find the stallion as good as before. Men also heard that he found the mares to be just as good, or better. One day, when he came to the horses, he found the stallion killed, run through with a spear. He didn’t care about this. Everyone was surprised that he didn’t take it hard, losing such a treasure as the stallion was. But he went to the mares all the more often, and all the more closely. One of the horses was pale in color. He found it the best of all the horses, and in springtime, everyone who saw the pale mare though that she must be pregnant. They say that time went on until the mare foaled, and the result was quite unexpected; it was a baby, not a foal. Your father had the baby taken and raised, and it was big and handsome. He had this boy called Hrossthjof and called it his son. And it’s no wonder that you’re puffed up, since you’re the son of a mare. Your father himself killed the stallion, and I don’t know whether he had more sons with these mares, but I’ve heart it said that he had another son named Hesthofdi, and he was also of horse-kin. But since you’re much like each other, all wicked and unlike other men, then it’s likeliest that you were all begotten that way.
At the king’s words, all the berserkers leaped up, bellowing and howling. They all wanted to attack the king at the same time. Hrolf drew the sword Giant’s Gift and struck the leader first. The sword cut their bodies as if it were slicing water, because none of them were wearing armor, since no weapon had ever hurt them before. By the end of their encounter, King Hrolf had killed them all and wasn’t seriously wounded.
– Saga of Hrolf Gautreksson, 13th Century AD
