The folk of Ercongotastead take counsel. They think it likely that Raedmund, cheated of his captives, but with his wightish alliances forged anew, will come to wreak revenge upon Ercongotastead. The defenders are few. Though they have been greatly reinforced by the rescued captives of Frithistead these are all lacking in equipment to form a shieldwall. Many are also wounded or weakened by their privations.
Hildilith the young Priestess of Frige feels that she can do more for the injured with a stock of herbs and seeks a guard to accompany her into the woods nearby the settlement to seek them. Eawulf, the Thunor Priest seems keen to develop his godgifts in that direction and eagerly volunteers to join her. So too do Lytelman, Wulf the Lucky and a newcomer, Herewulf, who has a bow and it seems can read a forest trail.
They have not been in the woods very long when they are ambushed by a small group of Pukelings. They press them hard but the young Geats hold firm, aided by Thunor whose protection is invoked by Eawulf. After a short struggle three Pukels lie dead upon the ground and the rest flee.
In his battle fury Wulf chases one fugitive into the woods. His companions content themselves with gathering the discarded weapons of their foes, realising that these are of great value to their freed comrades back in Ercongotastead. It is only after a while that they realise that Wulf has not returned. Alarmed, they follow his trail and after a short way they see him ahead, lying face down. They hurry forward only to discover that he is but the bait in another Pukeling ambush.
This band is larger, led by a Pukelman, and the fight more desperate. However, the Geats are stalwart and once more Thunor extends his cloak of protection. Nevertheless it is a fierce struggle and few of them have much breath to spare when the Pukels finally break and run, leaving several more of their number in the moss and mulch of the forest floor.
Wulf is dead, his wounds to the front, two throw spears jutting from his chest. He was a man who in life constantly tested his wyrd, seldom ending a fight on his feet. It seems that his famous luck had at last given out. His grieving comrades once more gather the discarded Pukel weapons and bear Wulf’s body back to Ercongotastead, with the news that the Pukel folk are there in force less than a league from the settlement.