Dauntlessly he lumbered to attack. Swords met. Hadding’s was well-nigh torn loose. He sprang back. Blow after blow gnawed his shield. Never could he trap the edge. Suddenly, though, he rammed it ahead to meet the next cut. The iron glanced off. He had an opening. His blade struck like an adder. Into Uffi’s left leg it went, above the knee that thrust out from the byrnie, to the bone and onward.
Uffi sank to earth. On his right knee, the left leg useless and blood rivering from it, he snarled up at Hadding through the rain. “Come and get me,” he grated, “if you dare.” Thunder rolled around his words.
“I could stand here and watch you die,” said Hadding, “but you are worthy of better. Yet I wonder if you would have given me this much.”
He trod close. Sword clanged on sword. It was hard and dangerous work until Uffi sagged. He lay in the mire while the last of his blood drained off into the gurgling brown streamlets. Rain beat over him. Lightninglight flamed on his mail.
Hadding looked about. The Swedish guards had fought stoutly, slain four Danes and wounded all the rest. But they took worse losses, and when they saw their king go down, they broke and ran. Their foes were too worn out to give chase.
Everywhere over the field, their fellows were likewise in flight. None stayed behind but the crippled and the dead. Hadding set about getting his troop back together.
The storm passed. The night was calm. Morning shone lovely. Mists steamed low above the battleground, where birds flocked and cried. Hadding gave his men a day of ease, except for those who buried fallen friends. Himself he ordered that King Uffi’s body be undressed, washed, and shrouded in three good cloaks.
Next morning he sent most of his followers home under their shire-leaders. With three hundred long-seasoned warriors he bore northward. Taking remounts and pack horses for food and gear, they rode speedily. One horse bore King Uffi.
As Hadding had foreseen, they met no trouble along the way. Beaten men were straggling back to their dwellings by ones or two or threes. Nothing was left that could stand against even so small a troop as his. Nevertheless he kept them from doing any harm except, maybe, now and then stealing a chicken or a pig. He had a higher end in mind.
And thus after a few days they came to Uppsala. That was on another rainy day, but a mild one. Only a drizzle grayed the land, cool and still. It was as if the earth mourned. The town across the river stood dim, almost dreamlike.
Fast though the Danes went, word of them was bound to have gone ahead. Some scores of warriors waited before the bridge. Hunding sat mounted in front. He rode forward, sword in sheath, alone. Hadding rode to meet him. They halted.
“Be welcome, if that is your wish,” said Hunding low. Raindrops glistened in the hair of his bare head and trickled down his face.
“It is,” answered Hadding as quietly.
“You are bold to come into our lair with no more strength than this.”
“I thought it would be strength enough to break through anything we might find.”
“Yet you did not await more fighting.”
“No. I have heard how it is with you.”
Hunding nodded. He pointed offside. “See yonder,” he said. Charred snags stuck out of an ash heap. “I’ve had the house of shame burned.”
Hadding’s voice warmed. “That was good of you. For my part, I’ve brought your brother, Uffi, home.” Hunding stared. “He was a fearless man, who did mighty deeds,” Hadding said. “I would give him his honor.”
He could not tell whether it was raindrops or tears that caught in Hunding’s lashes. “Now I know you are greathearted as well as great,” the Yngling whispered.
Fully cleansed, the kingly hall took the Dane-king in. He and his men abode for many days. Since they hurt nobody but were, instead, kindly behaved, the town and neighborhood soon felt friendly toward them. No few wenches wandered offside with these dashing newcomers, while men were often glad to share a stoup and a gab.
Hadding was busier. First he, with Hunding, saw to the burial of Uffi. They got the lich into a box before rot had gone too far, then put workmen to digging and bringing in big stones. When the grave chamber was ready, they laid Uffi in it with a hoard of gold, silver, glass, and amber. Hadding laid thereto weapons he had brought along from the battlefield. The workers heaped earth high above to make a howe, and set the stones around it in the outline of a ship. Folk came from widely around for the death feast. With their own hands Hunding and Hadding slaughtered oxen and horses in the holy shaw. In kettles hung over the fires in the halidom, that meat seethed before the gods until men partook of it. Afterward there were three days of eating, drinking, games, and roistering, that Uffi have a good farewell.
With these honors did Hadding end the feud between Ynglings and, Skjoldungs.
Meanwhile he and Hunding were much together, talking. “You shall have my niece Arnborg as was promised you,” the Swede said.
“I thank you, but no,” Hadding answered. “I’ve thought on it, and indeed the maiden is very fair. But best not have two queens in Denmark. Strife between their sons could well split the kingdom asunder, and maybe this one too. Find her a strong man you want beholden to you.”
Hunding smiled. “I’d liefest that were you yourself,” he said. “But I yield to your wisdom.”
Hadding sighed. “Maybe it’s not so deep. I’ve all I can do keeping Denmark together. With you for king here in Svithjod, I’ll be free to deal with lesser foes.”
They had touched on this before. “Then you will help me to that?” Hunding cried. “Never while I live shall you lack for a
