"Hail, King Eric!" he said. "I have fought in many a field of slaughter, but never in such a one as this. I have slain many of thy holdas in my time, and now the end draws near. How sayest thou, Eric? I am a thane of name; I like not to die by common spear. Come now, and let us twain speak a word, and if I die I die by a champion's hand, and if I smite thee down surely I shall follow thee quickly. Skoal, Skoal!--the old Northland cry, Eric! Wilt thou go holmgang with me?" "Ay, for thou hast slain Ethelwald, and I will slay thee right gladly," answered the Dane, "and if I die by thy hand, then honorable is the death." So these twain met, and they fought, and all around stood still that the champions of pride might play the man's game unhindered. And it was a mighty fight, and a good fight, and of it the scalds and the gleeman sang for many a day. For Wulnoth smote a blow that cleaved its way through Eric's left wrist, and Eric struck back with all his force, and the blow fell on the shoulder of Wulnoth and nigh severed it; and these two champions reeled back and looked at each other, and Wulnoth cried again-- "Skoal to thee, smiter of blows! Skoal! Methinks that we shall journey together," and then he changed his axe into the other hand and again they fought. And Eric smote Wulnoth sore and deep in the side, and Wulnoth raised his axe high in his left hand and smote with all his might, and helm and head were split together, and King Eric fell side by side with his foe. Then did Wulnoth raise himself and cry again-- "Skoal! Skoal to thee, Eric, brave champion! Skoal to thee, Edward, for both thy foes are slain and thou shalt reign in peace. Skoal! I--I--" and then his voice failed and he gasped, "Edgiva! Edgiva beloved! I die," and with that he fell dead across the body of King Eric. And the battle stayed, for indeed none could fight longer. And the Danes buried King Eric on the field, but the Saxons bore the body of Wulnoth with sorrow and brought it safely to Edgiva. And the field of that fight was called amongst men the Field of the Great Slaughter--so vast was the number who lay there dead. And the whole of the Saxons made lamentation for Wulnoth, and they buried him with all honor; and Edgiva gave his message to his sons and smiled upon them and then laid her down. And soon her own death came, and she went to join her husband in the Kingdom of that Master Whom they had both learnt to serve. And Edward became king, and, that the name and the fame of Wulnoth might not be forgotten, he ordered that Gyso his gleeman should make this song. And Gyso obeyed and sang, and they said it was a good song and a true song, and that Wulnoth was worthy of the singing. And so ends the song; and it is for those who read to say whether it is as Gyso said, fair and true, and whether the deeds of those days are worthy of honorable remembrance.