The Norsemen were adepts at the treatment of wounds, and everything had been prepared in case of emergencies.
A bandage was instantly tied tightly round the upper part of the arm to stop the rush of blood, and the stump was then dipped into boiling pitch, and Sweyn, who had become almost instantly insensible from the loss of blood, was carried to his father's tent.

According to custom handsome presents of swords and armour were made to Edmund by those who had won by his success.
It would have been considered churlish to refuse them, and Edmund had no thought of doing so, for he needed money, and these things in those days were equivalent to wealth.
"You have done well and gallantly indeed, my young friend," Siegbert said as, followed by several slaves bearing Edmund's presents, they returned to the tent.

"I am glad you did not slay him, for I think not that he will die.

Such a blow given in battle would assuredly have been fatal, but here the means of stanching the blood were at hand, and I trust for Bijorn's sake that he will recover; but whether or no he brought it on himself." On reaching the tent Freda ran out radiant.
"I hear that you have conquered," she said, "and I am glad indeed; it serves him right, for all say that he forced the fight upon you." "I did not know that your sympathies were so strongly against Sweyn," Siegbert said in a somewhat reproachful tone.

"He has always been your devoted follower." "He has always been my tyrant, father, for he has always insisted on my doing his pleasure; but if he had been ten times my follower, and had been a valiant warrior instead of a youth, and I a maiden of twenty instead of a girl of fifteen, I should still be glad that he was conquered, because without any reason for quarrel he has sought to slay this Saxon youth who did us such great service, and to whom as he knew we were so indebted." Siegbert smiled.