Reddened were the wolf’s-bit’s edges
At a place—men call it Torfness;—
It was by a youthful ruler
This was done, upon a Monday.
Pliant swords were loudly ringing
At this War-Thing, south of Ekkial,
When the prince had joined in battle
Bravely with the King of Scotland.
High his helm the Lord of Hjaltland
Bore amid the clang of weapons;