Then they quieted, for he spoke sternly of what he wanted them to do. Gangleri, who stood beside him, spearhead shining above, had taught him a new array of battle. He put it forth in a few words. There was no time to say more, he told them, nor to quarrel over who should stand where. All posts were alike honorable. Gangleri would go among them and lead every banner-band to its place. Let none question or hinder him. Anyone who did would rue it.

The Danes were quick to obey. Although most had not seen the old one before, the beholding awed them.

He spread them on the field as a great wedge. Hadding and Gunnar made the first row—not because Hadding was king, for it would have been wisest to have him farther back were it not that they two were the mightiest of the fleet. Four men behind them made the second row, eight behind these the third, and thus until the last, who were promised that there would be enough fighting for everybody. On the wings Gangleri set the bowmen and slingers.

So did the Danes take their stand. They had not long to wait.

Thuning had known who they must be. If he tried to sail on past, they would be after him, harassing all the way. His men could not even land for a night’s rest without being attacked before they could busk themselves. Best was to have it out this day. He led his fleet to a strand a few miles off, grounded, and brought his host ashore.

As they came near, they were a grim sight. Widely over the grass they spilled, a swarm of hornets angrily buzzing, stings out and agleam. Swedish warriors in helm and ringmail went at every uplifted banner. They were well-nigh lost among the tribesmen. The Bjarmians were stocky, sturdy, high in the cheekbones, and narrow in the eyes. Most were clad in leather and felt; some coats bore sewn-on iron rings gotten from traders. Few owned helmets. Their hair showed greasy but often as fair as any Norseman’s. Their rude weapons had felled beasts stronger than men. Many had bound tokens of magic onto themselves, aurochs horns or reindeer antlers at the brows, necklaces of bear teeth or ferret skulls, ruffs of eagle feathers. Toward the rear a few elders were squatting down. They carried staffs topped with the same kittle things, and small drums. They began to beat on these with the flats of their hands. From their wrinkled lips a keening wove into the thutter.

Hadding drew sword. “Hey-saa-saa!” he cried.

The Danes bayed and followed him. Thuning bawled answer. His own banner led a rush to meet them.

Battle burst loose. Weapons clashed and thudded, men yelled, grunted, panted, bowstrings twanged, gulls mewed and ravens croaked on high where they wheeled watchful, and through all the racket went the drumbeat and chant of the war-locks.