As the remaining crew of the Spearhafoc mourn their lost and departed shipmates, Hrothgar seeks to find new warriors and seamen to fill their places on the oarbenches. First to come forward is Arcil, the slayer of Sperling. He is plainly a fine warrior and veteran seaman and with a sentence of outlawry over him he is keen to leave Hameburg as soon as he can. Hrothgar is in favour of accepting him but feels he must consult the crew. There is some discomfort expressed but none raise strong objections and he is accepted. The other recruits are: Osfram, Sigehelm, Eanread and Leoflaed a waelcyrige. Each is familiar with various parts of Britannia, which is thought to be of value and seem experienced sailors and in some cases warriors. The boy Gifel, the river pilot from Cucshafn, also volunteers but is refused on account of his tender age.
While the recruitment and lading of the ship takes place Hrothgar is summoned to the Hameburg for speech with Lord Volker who has a cunning plan to share with him. Shipping from the Hameburg heading west is much troubled by Frisian pirates who lurk in the marshlands between Cucshafn and the Franklands. One band must have eyes and ears in Hameburg for it is ever the richest and least well defended prizes that are snapped up. The pirates then retreat swiftly into marshes and mudflats where it is difficult and perilous to follow. The Spearhafoc needs must risk their attacks anyway if it wishes to come to Britannia. Volker has a scheme that will benefit Hrothgar and help Volker strike a blow against the pirates. Volker will load a treasure upon the Spearhafoc’s deck where all may see it. The Spearhafoc will sail along the Frisian coast, shadowed by a strong force of Saxon longships. When the Frisians come out to attack Spearhafoc, it will flee northwards. When the Frisians sail in pursuit away from the coast, the Saxons will follow, seeking to cut them off from their marshes. All Hrothgar must do is keep sailing and the treasure will be his. Hrothgar agrees. The next day six heavy chests are loaded onto the Spearhafoc’s deck. One of them is accidently dropped and splits open to reveal much silver within.
Two days later, the Spearhafoc heads down river to Cucshafn where once more they are well received. There they tarry a while to ensure that the news of their coming arrives in the Frisian lands and for the Saxons of the Hameburg to gather their strength. They make their way south and west along the coast, mostly under oar for the wind comes from the south. They are not long out of Cucshafn when Gifel is found hiding under the sail. Hrothgar contemplates having him swim for the shore but instead has him put to the oar.
When they reach the Friesan shore matters fall out more or less as Volker predicted. Several Friesan craft slip out of channels in the reed beds and mudlfats of the low-lying coast to fall upon the Spearhafoc. The Spearhafoc spreads sail to run north before the wind and the Friesans give chase. Behind them the Saxon fleet slips between the shore and the Frisians and raise sail to pursue in their turn.
Most of the Frisians turn back and scatter to try to evade the Saxon ships but one large Frisian longship continues its pursuit of the Spearhafoc. For several hours the Frisian dogs the Geatish craft. Meanwhile, the wind rises and the swell grows deeper beneath their keels. The Spearhafoc is swift and guided through Wade’s currents by Bumoth in the prow but the Frisian also seems expertly handled and with a broader sail and heavier keel it starts to gain upon the Spearhafoc in the increasingly rough seas. Then in a stroke of ill-fortune the Spearhafoc’s sail splits asunder and the Frisian is upon them. Cunning helming from Acca prevents the Frisian from ramming them amidships but now the two ships are alongside, only the swell preventing the pirates from boarding the Spearhafoc with overwhelming numbers.
As the two ships struggle together in the foam a new threat emerges from the Deep. Giant female figures with wild eyes and hair of spume, wrack and spindrift emerged from the waves that were crashing over the ships to clutch at the gunwales of both ships with briny hands. “The Daughters of Hler are upon us!” cries Bumoth and begins shrieking a galdor-chant. Pirate and Geat alike turn their blades to the new peril. They soon find that it is like striking at water to plunge a mortal blade into these brim-fiends. Those with rune-marked blades have better fortune and are able to banish them with but a blow. However, there are ever more grasping hands to take the place of those so dispatched. The Frisian, perhaps lacking rune-blades, founders first and is dragged below the waves to a chorus of despairing cries. It is plain that despite all efforts it is the Spearhafoc’s wyrd to follow as it sinks to the gunwales and begins to go down by the stern.
As the ship sinks, Bumoth at the prow brings his galdor-chant to its climax and plunges his rune-marked saex into his own breast. Then all is blackness.