The saga of Egil Skallagrimsson shows an enormous awareness of the power of intellect and cunning. Many scenes convey the value of cunning, such as court-room episodes, duels, and courtly episodes. But the ultimate example of craftiness is Egil Skallagrimsson himself.

            Near the end of his life, Egil comes to the aid of his son Thorstein when the latter is brought to court on the charge of uncompensated murder. His nemesis, Steinar, has wrongfully used land that was Thorstein’s, but is willing to forget that fact to gain more wealth and power at Thorstein’s expense by charging Egil’s son with murder. Egil, knowing how much control he has and also how to manipulate situations, comes to his son’s aid. Onund and Egil had grown up together in Iceland. They were fast friends and Onund remembers who Egil is, how much power he has, and how generous Egil has been to him in the past. Onund explains this: “I have spent a lot of words telling Steinar to make a reconciliation with Thorstein, because I have always been reluctant to bring any dishonor upon your son Thorstein. The reason is our lifelong friendship, Egil, ever since we were brought up here together.”

            Onund’s choice of words when he says “your son” is prudent because it recognizes the wealth and power of Egil, while also acknowledging his higher status. Egil answers Onund’s statement tactfully, saying “It will soon emerge, whether you are speaking earnest or empty words, although I consider the latter less likely.” There’s a bandying of words, concealed aims, and nods of respect in this scene that this paper just can’t encompass. But ultimately Egil uses his gift of words to lure Onund into a false sense of security, which was one of the concealed aims. Skallagrim’s son is so adept that Onund willingly hands his son’s case over to Egil, trusting that the chieftain won’t be harsh and will remember their long friendship, which is also one of those aforementioned “concealed aims.”

            There is something to be said for Onund’s pragmatism too. Egil rode to the assembly with a band of men like most others did. But the author gives us clues that Egil spared no expense in choosing his cohorts. “Egil Skallagrimsson…arrived with eighty men, all armed for battle. It was an elite band of men.” Surely, this is a statement meant to say more than appears on the surface. If Thorstein were to be outlawed, the settlement of the case would be left to Steinar, Onund and their followers. When Egil shows up with this “elite band of men” Onund has to be asking himself and Steinar too, how effective they are going to be finding restitution. So when Onund hands the case over to Egil, he may be really throwing himself at the mercy of Skallagrim’s son, knowing full well that he’s already lost and cannot hope to accomplish anything, if he wins, until Egil dies.

            The true cunning of Egil’s plan appears in the art with which he saves his son. Riding with eighty men is no small task, and when they’re armed for battle, they represent a threat of force. When he maneuvers to hold judgment in the case and then pronounces the harsh ruling, he makes everyone realize that he isn’t only capable of feats of arms.  The judgment forces Onund and Steinar, along with all of their family, to move to another district, so that after Egil’s death Thorstein will not become the target of a feud because his antagonists will be too far removed. The whole plan was built by Egil playing on the fears and respect of others. Egil used Onund’s feelings against him.

            As improbable as the next scene is, it is certainly worth discussing. Egil composed his poem Head Ransom to avoid being slain by King Eirik Blood-Axe. Given the animosity between the royal family and Egil’s family, not to mention the pure hatred which Queen Gunnhild held for Egil, it is hard to believe that the King would have left Egil alive. All of that aside, in the context of the saga, the episode shows the strength of Egil’s intellect. Arinbjorn gives him the idea, and tells him to compose a poem for the King. Egil does so, to the best of his ability, and creates a beautiful drapa. So beautiful, in fact, that he does indeed keep his head. Why is this so remarkable? It’s simple. Given the hatred and animosity between the two families, there is absolutely no reason that Egil should have survived. But he controlled the situation from the beginning. Though Egil had not made friends with Arinbjorn for the sake of political influence, the friendship certainly worked in Skallagrim’s son’s favor. “Egil and I intend to stand by each other,” Arinbjorn says. “Everyone will have to face the two of us together. The king will pay a dear price for Egil’s life by killing us all….” King Eirik can’t afford the heavy cost of life because, as Gunnhild tells us, “every king is more powerful than [Eirik] now.” So Egil has Arinbjorn on his side, much to the royal couple’s indignation. Egil also has the mead of poetry, that sweet gift of Odin. The poet composes a drapa of twenty stanzas and recites it so that even the king recognizes how well the poem was “delivered.”

            One could argue that Egil had control of the situation even before he saw Arinbjorn. Egil arrived at night, and as we find out, killing at night is murder. So if Eirik cannot kill Egil that night, then the next morning would be a fine time to have him slaughtered. Unfortunately for the King, when a person puts their life into his hands –during a feud such as this- the one who’s life should be forfeit is given two weeks to escape. Eirik, being a king, even an exiled one, has a measure of pride and standing and murder is certainly beneath him. We know he has a code of conduct to respect from the fact that he actually doesn’t kill Egil, and also by his words after Head Ransom is delivered. When the king pronounces judgment, his words express both pride and a resigned frustration because even though Eirik has every reason in the world to kill Egil, he can’t do so without hurting his own standing. Look at what Eirik himself says: “I am letting you keep your head for the time being. Since you put yourself into my hands, I do not want to commit a base deed against you.” Even blood feuds involve a sense of propriety, it seems. “Base deed” really shows how Eirik’s hands are tied in this situation, and that he himself knows it and that Egil knew he knew it.

            Being as wise as Egil is, but more importantly, being a member of this culture, it’s almost a certainty that he knew these rules of hospitality and engagement. If that is indeed true, then he knew what to expect going into this situation and how to play it, or, more cunningly, how to have it played for him. Egil used Eirik’s pride and status against him, he also used –whether intentionally or unintentionally- his friendship with Arinbjorn against the king. Egil really did control this situation masterfully. He had all the variables covered –even Eirik’s legendary rage- while still projecting the illusion –to some extent- that he wasn’t in control.

            So how does Egil show cunning through his sword-play? It’s an interesting question. One could answer that he does so by his choice of weapon or even his placement of blows. Both answers are, as technicalities, true, but I intend to pose this question otherwise. One episode stands out to me as simply amazing because, savage as it is, the scene shows an awareness that is shared by few, and that I certainly wouldn’t display.

            When Egil duels Atli the Short, he cannot land a mortal blow, even when Atli’s shield is split and thrown away. Egil even composed a poem about this episode. “Black Slicer did not bite / …. / Atli the short kept blunting / it with his magic,” He tells us. The saga keeps us toe-to-toe, so to speak, during the duel. “Egil struck [Atli] a blow on the shoulder, but his sword did not bite. He dealt a second and third blow, finding places to strike because Atli had no protection. Egil wielded his sword with all his might, but it would not bite wherever he struck [Atli].” How does Egil solve this problem of an impervious opponent in a duel to the death? Well, the swiftest explanation is that he does so by having recourse to savagery. At first glance, that’s all it appears to be. “[Egil] threw down his sword and shield, ran for Atli and grabbed him with his hands.” Fisticuffs would be a natural solution for a duel in which one’s opponent is invulnerable to weapons, but the match sinks to levels well below from hand to hand combat in the next sentence. “By his greater strength, Egil pushed Atli over backwards, then sprawled over him and bit through [Atli’s] throat.” Among episodes of barbaric battle, this must rank near the top. I didn’t see it coming, personally. But what does this show?

            It shows very clearly Egil’s desire not to be killed and to win the duel, but also how clever he must be in order to do so. Punching a man to death who has a sword and is trying to kill you can take a long time, provided that he doesn’t kill you first. Even if the man isn’t wearing armor, and we aren’t told whether Atli is or not, it could still take a long time to beat him into submission. On top of that fact, one still has to consider the defensive and hand-to-hand abilities of one’s opponent. So when Egil uses his greater strength to control his adversary so as to incapacitate him, he shows a knowledge of battle and what could sarcastically be called “problem-solving” skills. When Egil bites through Atli’s throat, he very effectively brings the duel to its conclusion. Egil goes for a uniquely vulnerable spot on his opponent’s body. I do not, for a minute, believe I would have that presence of mind; but then again, these are different times and different cultures. Those facts however, do not make Egil’s cunning in this episode any less real.

            In these episodes Egil show’s what he knows, what he has planned and executed, and his ability to overcome whatever obstacle he may face. The author tells us that Egil was a very large man. Take the account of his bones after his death: “[the bones] were much larger than normal human bones.” Egil’s skull was huge by normal standards, as the author tells us. “The skull was astonishingly large and and even more incredible for its weight.” This is all after his death. “When Egil was twelve, he was so big that few grown men were big and strong enough that he could not beat them at games.” We as readers know that Egil is ugly, huge as far as height and weight, and that he is himself a very accomplished warrior. He doesn’t have the advantages of beauty or a calm temper that his son or his uncle Thorolf had. Even so, Egil’s accomplishments as a warrior have gained him wealth and power. His excellence in war and other manly pursuits is documented in full by the author. Egil’s true genius lies in what’s behind those actions. He is given to rage and emotional outbursts of depression –when he doesn’t get money that he deserves, or when his sons die- and anger –when his brother dies in battle etc. - but he takes few, if any actions that aren’t well planned.

            Egil has a strong sense of courage and a steadfast heart. But with only those two attributes he wouldn’t have gotten as far or become as old as he was when he died. He would have been killed by King Eirik and Queen Gunnhild, Atli the Short, Ljot the Pale or any one of his many, many other enemies. Because he has a good intellect coupled with his martial prowess, Egil becomes a celebrated character of Icelandic culture. One could say that he is so celebrated because he left his poetry to Icelanders and the wider world. That’s very true, but it is yet another instance of him being cunning. I cannot say anything about the real Egil Skallagrimsson, but within the saga, he gives himself immortality by composing drapas and poems about his exploits. Even if he as a person didn’t compose them with that purpose, they have certainly worked out in his favor, and more importantly, in favor of the Egil that we as readers meet in the saga.

            He is intelligent because strength simply isn’t enough. Without proper planning, Egil’s son Thorstein could quite possibly have been killed in a feud with Steinar. Egil’s strength couldn’t have helped him then because he was too old. Without strategy, Egil wouldn’t have survived when his ship was wrecked in Northumbria and he was forced to go to King Eirik for help. And without his presence of mind, Egil might have been cut down by Atli the Short while trying to find a vulnerable spot on his enemy. Luckily, Egil does possess an extraordinary intellect and ability to solve his problems by controlling the situation effectively. He is intellect incarnate; he doesn’t have the advantages that others can count on, so he recognizes where he falls short and compensates for it. He compensates for it very, very well. So well, that it barely shows unless the reader is taking a close look at what is going on.