Skarpedin changed his bill to his left hand, drew his sword, and made such a blow at his adversary, that the point cut right through his shield. With a quick turn of the shield, Erling broke the sword short off at the hilt. Skarpedin seized his bill and thrust so fiercely that it also went through the shield and stuck fast. Erling forced the lower end or point of his shield down into the earth, and so held it fast, dropped his axe, drew his sword, and made it flash so quick round his head that no one could see the blade. It fell upon Skarpedin’s neck and gave him a grievous wound, cutting right through his armour and deep into his shoulder blade.
A great cry arose at this. The Danes made a rush towards their chief, and succeeded in dragging him out of the fight. They put him on his shield and bore him off to his ship, which was launched immediately. This was the turning-point in the day. Everywhere the Danes fled to their ships pursued by the victors. Some managed to launch their vessels, others were not so fortunate, and many fell fighting, while a few were taken prisoners.
Foreseeing that this would be the result, Haldor and Erling called off their men, hastened on board their ships, and gave chase, while the rest of the force looked after the prisoners and the booty, and dressed their own and their comrades’ wounds.
“A bloody day this,” said Ulf to Guttorm, as the latter came up, wiping the blade of his sword.
“I have seen worse,” observed the old warrior, carefully returning his weapon to its scabbard.
“The Danes will long remember it,” observed Glumm. “The ravens will have a good feast to-night.”
“And Odin’s halls a few more tenants,” said Guttorm:
“The Danes came here all filled with greed,
And left their flesh the crows to feed.
“But what is to be done with these?” he added, pointing to the prisoners, about twenty of whom were seated on a log with their feet tied together by a long rope, while their hands were loose.
“Kill them, I suppose,” said Ulf.