The account of the battle of Brunanburh in Egil’s Saga begins by describing the strong combination made against Athelstan by the princes of the north of England with the Scots and Welsh and the Irish Danes, of whom we have already spoken. They thought to take advantage of Athelstan’s youth and inexperience, for he was at this time only thirty years old. Olaf o’ the Sandal is here called Olaf the Red, which may have been the title by which he was known in Norway. He marched into Northumbria, “advancing the shield of war.” Athelstan, having laid claim to Northumbria, set over it two earls, Alfgeir and Gudrek, to defend it against the Irish and Scots, and they mustered all their forces and marched against Olaf. But they were powerless against his great army, and Earl Gudrek fell, while Alfgeir fled with the most part of his followers behind him. When Alfgeir reported his defeat to Athelstan he became alarmed, and summoned his army together; he sent messengers in every direction to gather fresh forces, and among those who heard that he wanted men and came to his assistance were the brothers Thorolf and Egil, who were coasting about the shores of Flanders. Athelstan received them gladly, for he saw that they were trained fighting-men and brought a good following; but he wished them to be “prime-signed,” in order that the Norse of his own army might fight on good terms with them.

It was a custom in those days, when pagan men traded with Christian countries, or when they took arms for them, that they should allow themselves to be signed with the cross, which was called “prime-signing,” for then they could hold intercourse with Christians and pagans alike, though they did not thereby give up their pagan faith, and usually returned to their own worship when they went home to Norway or Iceland. Egil and Thorolf consented to this, for England was at that time a Christian country. They entered the King’s army, and three hundred men-at-arms with them.

But the victory of Olaf had so strengthened his cause that Athelstan heard tidings from every quarter that his earls and subjects were falling away from him and joining Olaf. Even the two princes of the Welsh or Britons who had sworn allegiance to Athelstan, and who had the right to march to battle before the royal standard, passed over with their troops to the army of his foe. When the King received this bad news he summoned a conference of his captains and counsellors, and put before them point by point what he had been told. They advised that Athelstan should go back to the south of England, levy all the troops that he could get together and march with them to the north; for they felt that only the personal influence of the King could save his kingdom against such a combination as that which Olaf had gathered together. While he was gone south the King appointed Thorolf and Egil chiefs over his mercenary troops, and gave them the general direction of his army. They were commanded to send a message to Olaf, giving him tidings that Athelstan would offer battle to him on Vin-heath in the north, and that he intended to “enhazel” the battle-field there; he appointed a week from that time for the conflict, and whoever should win the battle would rule England as his reward.

When a battlefield was “enhazelled” it was considered a shameful act to harry in the country until the battle was over. Olaf accepted the challenge, and brought his army to a town north of Vin-heath and quartered the troops there, awaiting the date of the battle, while collecting provisions for his men in the open country round. But he sent forward a detachment of his army to encamp beside Vin-heath, and there they found the ground already marked out and “enhazelled” for the battle. It was a large level plain, whereon a great host could manœuvre without difficulty. A river flowed at one side, and on the outskirts on the other hand was an extensive wood, and between the wood and the river the tents of Athelstan were pitched. All round the space hazel-poles were set up, to mark the ground where the battle was to be; this was called “enhazelling the field.” Only a few of the King’s men had arrived, but their leaders wished them to pass for a great host, to deceive King Olaf. They planted the tents in front very high, so that it could not be seen over them whether they stood many or few in depth; in the tents behind one out of every three was full of soldiers, so that the men had a difficulty in entering, and had to stand round the doors; but in every third tent there were only one or two men, and in the remaining third none at all. Yet when Olaf’s soldiers came near them they managed things so that Athelstan’s men seemed to be swarming before the tents, and they gave out that the tents were over-full, so that they had not nearly room enough. Olaf’s troops, who were pitched outside the hazel-poles, imagined that a great host must be there, and they feared the return of the King himself with the succours he was collecting in the South. Meanwhile, through every part of his dominions Athelstan sent out the war-arrow, summoning to battle. From place to place his messengers sped, passing the arrow from hand to hand, for it was the law that the war-arrow might never stop once it was gone out, nor be dropped by the way. From day to day men flocked to the standard from all quarters, and at last it was given out that Athelstan was coming or had come to the town that lay south of the heath. But when the appointed time had expired and Olaf was busking him for battle and setting his army in array, purposing to attack, envoys came to him from the leaders of Athelstan’s host, saying: “King Athelstan is ready for battle, and hath a mighty host. But he sends to King Olaf these words, for he desires not to cause such carnage as seems likely; he is willing to come to terms with King Olaf, and offers him his friendship, with a gift as his ally of one shilling of silver from every plough through all his realm, if Olaf will return quietly to Scotland.” Now this was all a ruse, for in fact Athelstan had not yet arrived, and his captains were only seeking more time, so that the battle might not be begun by Olaf until the King and his fresh troops were come.

Olaf and his captains were divided as to accepting these terms; some were against postponing the fight, and others said that if Athelstan had offered so much at first he would offer yet more if they held out for higher terms; others, again, thought the gift so great that they would do well to be satisfied with it and return home at once. When they heard that there was division among Olaf’s counsellors, the messengers were well pleased, and they sent word that if Olaf would give more time they would return to King Athelstan and try if he would raise his terms for peace. They asked for three days’ further truce, and Olaf granted this.

At the end of the third day the envoys returned, saying that the King was so well pleased to have quiet in the realm that he would give, over and above the terms already offered, a shilling to every freeborn man in Olaf’s forces, a gold mark to every captain of the guard, and five gold marks to every earl. Again the offer was laid before the forces, and again opinions were divided, some saying the offer should be taken and some that it should be refused. Finally King Olaf said he would accept these terms, if Athelstan would add to them that Olaf should have undisputed authority over the kingdom of Northumbria, with the dues and tributes thereof, and be permitted to settle down there in peace. Then he would disband his army.

Again the envoys demanded a three days’ truce that they might bear the message to the King, and get his reply; when this was granted, the messengers returned to the camp. Now during this delay Athelstan had arrived close to the enhazelled ground with all his host, and had taken up his quarters south of the field, in the nearest town. His captains laid the whole matter of their treaties with Olaf before the King, and said that they had made those treaties in order to delay the battle until he returned.

Athelstan’s answer was sharp and short. “Return to King Olaf,” said he, “and tell him that the leave we give him is to return at once to Scotland with all his forces; but before he goes he must restore to us all the property he has wrongfully taken in this land. Further, be it understood that Olaf becomes our vassal, and holds Scotland henceforth under us, as under-king. If this is carried out, then we will make terms of peace, that neither shall harry in the other’s country. Go back and give him our terms.”

The same evening the envoys appeared again before King Olaf, arriving at midnight in his camp. The King had to be waked from his sleep in order to hear the message from King Athelstan. Straightway he sent for his captains and counsellors, to place the matter before them. They discovered, too, that Athelstan had come north that very day, and that the former messages had not been sent by himself but by his captains.

Then out spake Earl Adils, who had gone over from Athelstan’s side to the side of the Scottish King: “Now, methinks, O King, that my words have come true, and that ye have been tricked by these English. While we have been seated here awaiting the answer of the envoys they have been busy assembling a host. My counsel is that we two brothers ride forward this very night with our troop, and dash upon them unawares before they draw up their line of battle, so we may put a part of them to flight before their King be come up with them, and so dishearten the others; and you with the rest of the army can move forward in the morning.” The King thought this good advice, and the council broke up.

In the earliest grey of the dawn the leaders of Athelstan’s host were warned that the sentries saw men approaching. The war-blast was blown immediately, and word was sent out that the soldiers were to arm with all speed and fall into rank. Earl Alfgeir commanded one division, and the standard was borne before him, surrounded by a “shield-burgh” of soldiers with linked shields to protect it. The second division, which was not so large, was commanded by Thorolf and Egil. Thus was Thorolf armed. He had a red war-shield on his arm, for the shields in time of peace were white, but in time of war they were red. His shield was ample and stout, and he had a massive helmet on his head. He was girded with the sword he called “Long,” a weapon large and good. In his hand he had a halberd, with a feather-shaped blade two ells in length, ending in a four-edged spike; the blade was broad above, the socket both long and thick. The shaft stood just high enough for the hand to grasp the socket, and was remarkably thick. The socket fitted with an iron prong on the shaft, which was also wound round with iron. Such weapons were called mail-piercers.

Egil was armed in the same way as Thorolf. He was girded with the right good sword which he called the “Adder.” Neither of the captains wore coats of mail. All the Norwegians who were present were gathered round their standard, and were armed with mail at every point; they drew up their force near the wood, while Alfgeir’s moved along the river on their right.

When the captains of Olaf’s party saw that their advance was observed, they halted and drew up their force in two divisions, one under Earl Adils, which was opposed to Earl Alfgeir, the other under Earl Hring, which stood opposite to Thorolf and Egil. The battle began at once, and both parties charged with spirit. The men of Earl Adils pressed on with such force that Alfgeir gave ground, and then the men pressed twice as boldly. In the end Alfgeir’s division was broken and he himself fled south, past the town in which Athelstan lay. “I deem,” he said to his followers, “the greeting we should get from the King would be a cool one. We got sharp words enough after our defeat by Olaf in Northumbria, and he will not think the better of us now, when we are in flight again before him. Let us keep clear of the town.”

So he rode night and day till he came to the coast, and there he found a ship which took him over to France, and he never returned to England. The captains who had fought with him thought him no loss, for he was something of a coward, and his own opinion of himself was ever better than that other men had of him, and they had not approved when the King had forgiven him his first flight and set him again as captain in his army.

Now when Adils turned back from pursuing Alfgeir and his men, he came to where Thorolf was making his stand against Earl Hring’s detachment, and joined his forces to theirs. When Thorolf saw that the enemy had received reinforcements he said to Egil: “Let us move over to the wood, so that we may have it at our backs, that we be not attacked on all sides at once.” They did so, drawing up under cover of the trees. A furious onset was made upon them there, and furiously they repelled it; so that though the odds of numbers were great, more of Adils’ men fell than of Egil’s.

Then his “berserking fury”18 came upon Thorolf, and he became so furious that he bit the iron rim of his shield for rage; then he flung his shield on his back, and, grasping his halberd in both hands, he bounded forward, cutting and thrusting on every side. He shouted like a wild animal, and men sprang away from him, so terrified were they; but he cleaved his path to Earl Hring’s standard, slaying many on his way, for nothing could stop him. He slew the man who bore the earl’s standard and hewed down the standard-pole. Then he lunged at the breast of the earl with his halberd, driving it right through his body, so that it came out at his shoulders; and he raised the halberd with the earl empaled upon its end over his head, and planted the butt-end in the ground. There, in sight of friends and foes, the earl breathed out his life, expiring in agony. Then, drawing his sword, Thorolf charged at the head of his men, scattering the Scots and Welsh in all directions.

Thorolf and Egil pursued the flying foe till nightfall; and Earl Adils, seeing his brother fall, took shelter in the wood with his company; he lowered his standard that none might recognize his men from others. The night was falling when Athelstan on the one side and Olaf on the other came up with the fighting contingent; but as it was too dark to give battle, both armies encamped for the night; and it was told to Olaf that both his earls Hring and Adils were fallen, for no one knew what had become of Adils and his men.

At break of day King Athelstan called a conference, and he thanked Thorolf and Egil for their brave fight on the day before, and placed Egil as leader of his own division in the van with the foremost men in the host around him. “Thorolf,” he said, “shall be opposed to the Scots, who ever fight in loose order; they dash forward here and there with bravery, and prove dangerous if men are not wary, but they are unsteady in the fight if boldly faced.” Egil liked not to be separated from his brother, and said that he thought ill-luck would come of it, and that in time to come he often would rue the separation, but Thorolf said: “Leave it with the King to place us as he likes best; we will serve him wherever he desires us to be.”

After this they formed up in the divisions as the King ruled, Egil’s division occupying the plain toward the river, and Thorolf’s the higher ground beside the wood. Olaf also ranged his troops in two divisions, his own standard being opposite the van of Athelstan’s army, and his second division, the Scots, commanded by their own chiefs, opposite to Thorolf. Each had a large army; there was no great difference on the score of numbers.

Soon the forces closed and the battle waxed fierce. Thorolf thought to turn the Scottish flank by pressing between them and the wood and attacking them from behind. He pushed on with such energy that few of his followers were able to keep up with him; and just when he was least on his guard, and all his mind was fixed upon the army on his right, Earl Adils, who all the night had lain concealed among the trees, leaped out upon him with his troop, and thrust at him so suddenly that he fell, pierced by the points of many halberds. The standard-bearer, seeing the earl fall, retreated with the banner among those that came on behind.

From his position at the other side of the fighting-field Egil heard the shout given by the Scots when Thorolf fell, and saw the banner in retreat. Leaving the fierce combat in which he was engaged with Olaf’s troops, he hewed his way across the plain until he came amidst the flying Norsemen. Rallying them with his shouts, he turned them back and fell with them upon the enemy. Not long was it ere Earl Adils met his death at Egil’s hand, and then his followers wavered; one after another they turned to fly before the fearful onslaught, each following his fellow; and Egil, pursuing them, swept round behind and attacked the troops of Olaf’s first division from the back. Thus, caught between two dangers, the force recoiled, and havoc overtook them. King Olaf was wounded, and the greater part of his troops were destroyed. Thus King Athelstan gained a great victory.

When Egil returned from pursuing the flying foe he found the dead body of his brother Thorolf. He caused a grave to be dug, and laid Thorolf therein with all his weapons and raiment. Before he parted from him, Egil clasped on either wrist a golden bracelet, and then they piled earth and stones upon his grave.

Then Egil sought the King’s tent, where he and his followers were feasting after the battle, with much noise and merriment. When the King saw Egil enter the hall he caused the high seat opposite to himself to be cleared for him; Egil sat him down there, and cast his shield on the ground at his feet. He had his helm on his head and laid his sword across his knees; now and again he half drew it, then clashed it back into the sheath. He sat bolt upright, but as taking no notice of anything, and with his head bent forward. The King observed him, but said nothing. He thought the tall, rough warrior before him was angry. Egil was well made, but big-shouldered beyond other men, and with wolf-grey hair. Like his father he was partly bald, swarthy and black-eyed. His face was broad and his features large and hard, and just now he looked grim to deal with. He had a curious trick, when he was angry, of drawing one eyebrow down toward his cheek, and the other upwards toward the roots of his hair, twitching them up and down, which gave him a ferocious appearance. The horn was borne to him, but he would not drink. King Athelstan sat facing him, his sword too laid across his knees. At last he drew his sword from the sheath, and took from his arm a ring of gold, noble and good. He placed the ring on the sword’s point, stood up and reached it over the fire to Egil. At that Egil rose up and walked across the floor, striking his own sword within the ring and drawing it to him. Then both went back to their places, and Egil drew the massive ring on his arm, and his face cleared somewhat, and his eyebrows returned to their natural place. He laid down his sword and helmet and drank off at one draught the horn of wine they brought him. Then he sang a stave to the King:—

After they had supped, the King sent for two chests of silver that he had by him in the tent, and handed them to Egil, saying, “These, O Egil, I give thee to take to thy father in Iceland, in satisfaction for his son Thorolf, slain in my service; and to thee, in satisfaction for thy brother. If thou wilt abide with me I will give thee such honour and dignities as thou mayest thyself name.” Then Egil grew more cheerful, and he thanked the King, and said he would stay with him that winter, but that in the spring he must hie him home to Iceland, to tell the tidings to his father. He must go also to Norway, to see to the family of Thorolf and how they fared. So he stayed that winter with the King, and gat much honour from him, and in the spring he took a large warship, and on board of it a hundred men, and put out to sea. He and King Athelstan parted with great friendship, and the King begged Egil to return as soon as might be. And this Egil promised that he would do.