"What is this that has broken ?" asked King Olaf.
"Norway from thy hand, king," answered Tamberskelver.

Tryggveson's men, he observed with surprise, were striking violently on Eric's; but to no purpose: nobody fell.

"How is this ?" asked Tryggveson.

"Our swords are notched and blunted, king; they do not cut." Olaf stept down to his arm-chest; delivered out new swords; and it was observed as he did it, blood ran trickling from his wrist; but none knew where the wound was.
Eric boarded a third time.

Olaf, left with hardly more than one man, sprang overboard (one sees that red coat of his still glancing in the evening sun), and sank in the deep waters to his long rest.
Rumor ran among his people that he still was not dead; grounding on some movement by the ships of that traitorous Sigwald, they fancied Olaf had dived beneath the keels of his enemies, and got away with Sigwald, as Sigwald himself evidently did.