Thorstein Kolbein's son, Flosi's brother's son, rode up by his side and had a spear in his hand, he was one of the bravest of men, and the most worthy of those who were with Flosi.
Flosi snatched the spear from him, and launched it at Ingialld, and it fell on his left side, and passed through the shield just below the handle, and clove it all asunder, but the spear passed on into his thigh just above the knee-pan, and so on into the saddle-tree, and there stood fast.
Then Flosi said to Ingialld—
"Did it touch thee?"
"It touched me sure enough," says Ingialld, "but I call this a scratch and not a wound."
Then Ingialld plucked the spear out of the wound, and said to Flosi—
"Now bide thou, if thou art not a milksop."
Then he launched the spear back over the river. Flosi sees that the spear is coming straight for his middle, and then he backs his horse out of the way, but the spear flew in front of Flosi's horse, and missed him, but it struck Thorstein's middle, and down he fell at once dead off his horse.
Now Ingialld tuns for the wood, and they could not get at him.
Then Flosi said to his men—