The exhausted Birchlegs had now need of rest, and the king ordered the famous _loor_ Andvake to be blown, and gathered the army about him. Food and drink were brought from the city and the hungry warriors were about to refresh themselves, when they perceived that the fugitives of the several peasant armies had united, and were returning to challenge once more the fortune of battle. The rebels had discovered that they were yet, with a proper plan of attack, formidable enough to destroy the Birchlegs. Their chief purpose now was to kill Sverre, because they supposed that if he were dead, the resistance of his party would soon collapse. Reluctant though they were to fight again, the Birchlegs responded bravely to their king's exhortation. They stormed down to the frozen fjord, where the peasants were forming their battle line, and made a fierce onset. Sverre, as was his wont, rode about among them, was now at the front, now in the rear, and with his clear eye directed each manoeuvre. The peasants, when they saw him, cried out: "Stab him, hew him down, kill him, cut his horse from under him." And from all sides resounded hoarsely the shout: "Stab him, kill him." But in their eagerness to slay Sverre, they neglected to preserve order. Their battle array broke up into a series of wild and irregular charges, the weak points of which Sverre was not slow to detect. The Birchlegs rushed in among them and routed them with great carnage. A liegeman, named Aale Hallvardsson, whom the rebels mistook for the king, because he was similarly dressed, fell after a brave defence, and an exultant shout was heard, that the king was slain. The Birchlegs were for a moment stricken with terror, and stopped in their pursuit. But suddenly Sverre came dashing forward on his horse; the warriors rallied joyously about him, the _loor_ was blown for a fresh attack, and at the head of his men the king charged once more and broke the last resistance of the discomfited peasants. This was the greatest victory that Sverre ever won, and altogether one of the most extraordinary battles ever fought in Norway. For the peasants a day of accounting was now at hand, and the king made them feel the heavy hand of his wrath. A policy of gentleness and amnesty they would have mistaken for fear; only severity could inspire them with respect. Many farms were burned and great fines in money and provisions were exacted from those who had taken part in the rebellion. One incident will suffice to show, however, how little Sverre's heart was in this work. As he was approaching a farm, a little boy came running out of the woods and begged him piteously not to burn his home. "Nay, surely it shall be spared, since thou askest," answered Sverre, gently; "and if the peasants had stayed at home and begged for peace, no farm would have been burned. Tell them now, that the rest will be spared." Forthwith he gave orders to his men to refrain from further destruction.