Earl Rögnvald then ordered his men to take their axes, and cut the planks of the Drómund, where the iron fastenings were fewest; and when the men in the other ships saw what the Earl’s men were doing, they did the same. Now, where Erling had stationed himself, there was a large anchor hanging from the Drómund, which had its fluke hooked over the gunwale, but the shank hung down towards Erling’s ship. One of his forecastle men was named Andun Raudi (red); he was lifted up on the anchor-stock, and then he pulled up others. Standing there as close as they could, they hacked away at the planks with all their might; and this was far higher than the others could reach. When they had made an opening large enough to admit them, they prepared to board the Drómund. The Earl and his men entered on the lower deck, and Erling and his men on the upper; and when they both got in, there began to be severe fighting. Those in the Drómund were Saracens, whom we call Mahometan infidels. There were also many black men, who withstood them most fiercely. Erling received a severe wound in the neck, near the shoulder, when he jumped on board; it healed so badly that he carried his head to a side ever after, and therefore he was called crick-neck (Skakki). When Earl Rögnvald and Erling joined each other, the Saracens were driven to the forepart of the ship; and the Earl’s men boarded one after another until they were more numerous, and then they pressed the enemy hard. In the Drómund they saw one man far superior to the others in appearance and stature, and they were persuaded that he must be their chief. Earl Rögnvald ordered his men not to wound him, if they could seize him in any other way. Then they surrounded him, and pressed him with their shields, and thus caught him. He and a few others with him were sent to the Bishop’s ship. All the rest they killed, and obtained great booty and many precious things. When they had finished the hardest part of their work, they sat down and rested, and the Earl sang: At the spreading of the banner, Erling, mighty tree of battle, Went to victory and honour Foremost when we fought the Drómund; Then we felled the black-skinned fighters; Everywhere the blood ran streaming, And the keen-edged swords were reddened As we hewed among the heathen. We have had our fill of slaughter, Round us lie the heaps of corpses; Gory swords have been red-painting At the Drómund all this morning; Soon the news will spread to northward Of this furious sword-tempest; It will soon be known at Verbon, How we dealt death-blows this morning.