I do not know if the Danes saw what manner of force came to our help; but I think they did not.  Many broke and fled to the ships; but Hubba’s face grew hard and desperate, and he cried to his men to stand, and they gathered round him and the Raven banner.

Once again our great wedge formed up, and again charged into the thick of the Danes.  Then I faced the great chief, and men fell back from us to see what fight should be.  But from beside me came Odda.

“My fight, Ranald,” he said, and strode before the Dane.

His sword was gone—­the hilt and three inches of blade hung from his wrist—­and his shield was notched and gashed.  His only weapon was the broad-bladed Saxon spear, ashen shafted, with iron studs along its length below the head.  He was a head shorter than the Dane, who was, in truth, the most splendid warrior I had ever seen; and he bore a broad axe, wedge beaten and gold inlaid.  There was not much to choose between his shield and Odda’s, but I thought the spear the weaker weapon.

“Axe against spear,” said Harek; “here is somewhat of which to sing.”

Once Odda feinted, lunging at Hubba’s face; and the Dane raised his shield a little, but did not move else, nor did his eyelids so much as flinch, and his steady look never left his foe’s face.  Then, as Odda recovered, the great axe flashed suddenly, and fell harmless as its mark sprang back from its sweep; while like light the spear point went forward over the fallen axe, that recovered too slowly to turn it, and rang true on the round shield that met it.

I had not thought much of spear play until now, for we think little of the weapon.

Again the Saxon lunged, and Hubba hewed at the spear shaft, splintering it a little as the quick-eyed spearman swung it away from the blow.  Then the butt was over Odda’s left shoulder, and before one could tell that its swing aside had ended, forward flew the point, darting from left to right over Hubba’s arm that had not yet recovered from the lost axe blow, and behind the shield’s rim.  That blow went home, and the mighty Dane reeled and fell.

One moment’s silence, and then a howl from the Danes who watched, and they flew on us, bearing us back a pace or two.  Odda went down under the rush that was made on him, and I called to my comrades, and stood over him, and beat them back.  But Hubba’s fall was the end.

Even as I stood there, there came a rash of men from our ranks past me; and I cheered, for I saw Heregar’s silver mail driving straight for the Raven standard, at the head of the young thanes who were the shield wall of the Dragon of Wessex.  Then, too, closed in the wounded men and the country folk; and the Danes broke and fled towards the ships in disorder.  We followed for a little way, and then the thralls ended matters.  They say that not one Dane reached the river’s bank, beyond which their comrades watched and raged, powerless to help them.