Thorolf.—It will prove a troublesome business for you to wrench Eyafirth out of my hands. (In a whisper to HELGA, to whom he has approached more closely.) Am I given Eyafirth then?
Helga (whispers back).—Do not let it be seen that you are whispering to me. They will become suspicious. My position is difficult.
Kolbein.—I shall spare you, kinsman! (Speaks unintelligibly. HELGA bends down over him.)
Helga.—My husband wishes that you, Brand Kolbeinsson, and you, Thorolf, shall swear to each other an everlasting truce, now immediately.
Brand.—Is that your wish, kinsman Kolbein?
Kolbein.—It is. It is. Six hundred men! Advance bravely after me! My kinsman Brand is in great danger.
Broddi.—Always it is you, Brand! Physician, attend to the sick man.
Salvor.—Carry your chieftain into his bed!
Kolbein.—Woden owns all the slain men! Neither Thord Kakali nor one of his men will return alive over Blanda. Another battle won. A great and glorious victory. Carry away the fallen, I will not see them. Woden owns all the slain men.
Botolf.—So much devilish magic yet living in a Christian country! And this man have I shriven but a short while ago! Woden owns all the slain men! (KOLBEIN'S men surround him to bear him out on their shields. HELGA speaks fast and in a low voice to ASBJORN ILLUGASON.)