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THE BATTLE OF STIKLESTAD 109
Fallen was Arnljot,
‘The mountain eagle,
Shot on the plain.
Warm he bereft was
Of golden feathers,
Trampled and trailed.
Of all of the soaring
Flight of his life
This was the outcome.
Sayeth the saga:
Aimed had he ever
At the highest;
When once he saw it,
He gave himself wholly.
On the battle
Furious raged.
Berserker courage
Broke like a storm
The stout defenders,
Felled was the trunk
That upheld them.
Soon fell Tore,
Afrafaste,
And their men,
All of the valiant
Vanguard.
None had known them
Before this day,
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