sent
a generous pledge, not only of safety for the life, but honour for the
valour. The viking refused to surrender, and fell at last by a javelin
from the hand of Haco. As if in him had been embodied the unyielding
war-god of the Norsemen, in that death died the last hope of the vikings.
They fell literally where they stood; many, from sheer exhaustion and the
weight of their mail, died without a blow [250]. And in the shades of
nightfall, Harold stood amidst the shattered rampart of shields, his foot
on the corpse of the standard-bearer, his hand on the Ravager of the
World.

"Thy brother's corpse is borne yonder," said Haco in the ear of the King,
as wiping the blood from his sword, he plunged it back into the sheath.

CHAPTER XII.

Young Olave, the son of Hardrada, had happily escaped the slaughter. A
strong detachment of the Norwegians had still remained with the vessels,
and amongst them some prudent old chiefs, who foreseeing the probable
results of the day, and knowing that Hardrada would never quit, save as a
conqueror or a corpse, the field on which he had planted the Ravager of
the World, had detained the prince almost by force from sharing the fate
of his father. But ere those vessels could put out to sea, the vigorous
measures of the Saxon King had already intercepted the retreat of the
vessels. And then, ranging their shields as a wall round their masts,
the bold vikings at least determined to die as men. But with the morning
came King Harold himself to the banks of the river, and behind him, with
trailed lances, a solemn procession that bore the body of the Scald King.
They halted on the margin, and a boat was launched towards the Norwegian
fleet, bearing a monk, who demanded the chief, to send a deputation,
headed by the young Prince himself, to receive the corpse of their King,
and hear the proposals of the Saxon.

The vikings, who had anticipated no preliminaries to the massacre they
awaited, did not hesitate to accept these overtures. Twelve of the most
famous chiefs still surviving, and Olave himself, entered the boat; and,
standing between his brothers, Leofwine and Gurth, Harold thus accosted
them:

"Your King invaded a people that had given him no offence; he has paid
the forfeit--we war not with the dead! Give to his remains the honours
due to the brave. Without ransom or condition, we yield to you what can
no longer harm us. And for thee, young Prince," continued the King,