When Snorri and his men arrive at the haystack, it is not mentioned that they exchanged any words. They launched their attack at once, mostly with spears, and Arnkel defended himself with the running-blade of his sled. […]
“Beneath it there was a stone slab, with a leaden cross attached to its underside. I have seen this cross myself and I have traced the lettering which read as follows: HERE IN THE ISLE OF AVALON LIES BURIED THE RENOWNED KING ARTHUR, WITH GUINERERE, HIS SECOND WIFE.” […]
“. Its spittle burned vultures’ wings, its venom scorched the earth; it snatched monsters from the sea and eagles from the air; the earth was emptied of people and flocks, every living thing retreated before it. When I saw that no one dared oppose it, I emptied my heart of fear and bound on my sword in God’s name.” […]
“Paris sprang from the Trojan forward ranks, a challenger, lithe, magnificent as a god, the skin of a leopard slung across his shoulders, a reflex bow at his back and battle-sword at his and brandishing two sharp spears tipped in bronze he strode forth, challenging all the Argive best to fight him face-to-face in mortal combat.” […]
“They went inside after they had finished unloading the hay, and took off their leather cloaks. Arnkel’s followers woke up and asked them where he was. It was as if the slave awoke from a dream, and he replied: “The truth is, he must be fighting Snorri the Godi at Orlygstadir now.”” […]
“When he left they questioned him closely and asked him who he really was. He said that he had been born to some rustic bedlam in the same parish, fathered on her by an incubus who had appeared in the shape of her husband.” […]
“The sky was clouded by the cavalry’s dust, and swords glittered in the dark like lightning; it was as if the air itself caught fire, flashing like diamonds and burning the ground. The din of weapons deafened the fighters, and fire ascended to the heavens.” […]
“The famous spearman struck behind his skull, just at the neck-cord, the razor spear slicing straight up through the jaws, cutting away the tongue. He sank in the dust, teeth clenching the cold bronze.” […]
“As the summer passed, they became aware that Thorolf was not resting in peace. People could never go outside in peace once the sun had set. As well as that, the oxen that had hauled Thorolf to his grave had been ridden by trolls, and all livestock which came anywhere near Thorolf’s cairn ran wild and bellowed themselves to death.” […]
“Of all the people I have seen the Welsh are the most particular in shaving the lower parts of the body.” […]
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