Asmund stroked the back of the mare, and, lo, the hide came off
beneath his hand; he wondered how this could have happened, and said
it was likely to be Grettir's doing. Grettir sneered mockingly, but
said nought. Now goodman Asmund went home talking as one mad; he went
straight to the fire-hall, and as he came heard the good wife say,
"It were good indeed if the horse-keeping of my kinsman had gone off
well."

Then Asmund sang this stave--

"Grettir has in such wise played,
That Keingala has he flayed,
Whose trustiness would be my boast
(Proudest women talk the most);
So the cunning lad has wrought,
Thinking thereby to do nought
Of my biddings any more.
In thy mind turn these words o'er."

The housewife answered, "I know not which is least to my mind, that
thou shouldst ever be bidding him work, or that he should turn out all
his work in one wise."

"That too we will make an end of," said Asmund, "but he shall fare the
worse therefor."

Then Grettir said, "Well, let neither make words about it to the
other."

So things went on awhile, and Asmund had Keingala killed; and many