"Hast thou forgotten Edgiva the Beautiful, Wanderer? She will weep for thee, and, moreover, thou mayst yet be needed to watch over her. I see no sense in staying here to be slaughtered. Let us retreat side by side, and since these holdas cast us out, seek the Atheling and lend him our aid."
"Now surely thy words are good words, comrade," Wulnoth answered. "For if this is not the sign for which I waited, then I know not what may be. So shield in front and axe ready, let us step backwards, comrade, and then, if we can reach the forest, all may be well."
Then the two heroes began to step backwards, still facing their enemy, and around them swarmed the host of the foe, pressing hard and sore, until at last Wahrmund cried to Wulnoth that they should run.
"No scald can say we are nithing or weak," he said, "for we have fought a good fight. But fain would I see thee live, Wulnoth, since that is thy real name, for I see thou hast a word to say to Hungwar yet. As for me, I know this is my last fight, for I am sore wounded—"
"Say not 't is thy last fight, comrade," cried Wulnoth. "If thou dost tarry, then I tarry with thee."
"Think thou of Edgiva," said Wahrmund. And Wulnoth answered—
"I do think of her. I think I should be shamed to look her in the face and say I deserted a wounded comrade."
"I wish thee to live that thou mayst avenge me," Wahrmund said. But all that Wulnoth would answer was—
"I will avenge thee, ere I die by thy side."