For in old time those who were about to put themselves in dependence on the king used to promise fealty by touching the hilt of the sword.

And in this wise Wigg clasped the hilt, and then drove the point through Hiartuar; thus gaining the vengeance which he had promised Rolf to accomplish for him.

When he had done this, and the soldiers of Hiartuar rushed at him, he exposed his body to them eagerly and exultantly, shouting that he felt more joy in the slaughter of the tyrant than bitterness at his own.

Thus the feast was turned into a funeral, and the wailing of burial followed the joy of victory.
Glorious, ever memorable hero, who valiantly kept his vow, and voluntarily courted death, staining with blood by his service the tables of the despot! For the lively valour of his spirit feared not the hands of the slaughterers, when he had once beheld the place where Rolf had been wont to live bespattered with the blood of his slayer.

Thus the royalty of Hiartuar was won and ended on the same day.