Yet when the ships were there the height of the bridge above them was far greater than it had seemed from a distance.

Now their fore decks were under the towers, for the upper works of these overhung the water.
Then the Danish war horns blew, and the men raised a great shout, and down from those towers and from openings in the bridge rained and thundered great ragged blocks of stone--masses rent from the old Roman city walls--and into the ships they crashed, and there rose a terrible cry from our men, for no ship that was ever built could stand so fierce a storm as this.
Two good ships swayed and sank, and their men climbed on bridge and piling, or leapt into the stream to reach the ships that yet were afloat.

Then the storm stayed for lack of rocks within reach, as it would seem, for I saw men hoisting more into the towers as fast as crane and windlass would serve them.
Now fell the javelins again, and still the grappling irons held the ships, though the oars were manned.

Then dared a man in each ship to do the bravest deed of that day.

Through rain of falling javelins each ran forward, axe in hand, and cut the grappling lines as our Norsemen cheered them in wild praise.