Only Prat was gone, while now our whole line was of spearmen and vikings mingled, and the Danish line was in no sort of order, but I thought they prepared for another rush on us.
Then it came, and we were driven back fighting; it slackened, and we took our ground again.

And then I know not what sign Olaf saw in the faces of the Danes before him, but suddenly he spoke, and our war horns brayed.

Then Ottar raised the standard and pointed it forward, and there rose a thundering cheer from our whole line as we charged and swept the Danes before us, spear and axe and sword cleaving their way unchecked.

And surely sword Foe's Bane wiped out the dishonour of biding in a foeman's power that day.
Then rode our horsemen among the disordered crowd, and that was the end.

The Danes broke and fled, and Olaf had won his seventh battle, and I had seen victory at last; moreover the sword of Thorgeir was in my hand.
The light-armed men and the riders followed the flying Danes, and Olaf sheathed his red sword with the light of victory shining on his face, and while the men cheered around us he put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I were hurt.
"I saw you fall, cousin," he said, "but I could not win to you.