Note: This is the 3rd of the 5 final chapters of Tattúínárdǿla saga, which are all being posted today. The first chapter in today’s update is Chapter 49; from there you can navigate to the other chapters being posted today.
When Veidr had taken Lúkr to the king on the Daudastjarna, and the three of them had witnessed from there the ambush and the hard naval battle that followed, the king turned to Lúkr and spoke: “It was I who contrived to draw my enemies here in order to destroy all of them in one blow. The North Atlantic now belongs to me alone; the chieftains who stood against me have come to me like sheep for the shearing. And the wool which I have sheared from them is nothing less than their very kingdoms!”
“You are overconfident,” said Lúkr, “and you are far too proud in this dishonorable way of killing men.”
“You are overconfident,” said the king, “and have too much faith if you believe that honorable men can become king. I would like to be both king and an honorable man, but those are two separate choices, and a man can only be one or the other. The one tree owns the space which it can shove the other out of, and so it is with men as well.”
“My father is not a man like you,” said Lúkr, “He is honorable, and would choose a good reputation over power.”
But the king laughed. “Then try this, boy – take your sword, which lies here next to my hand, and strike me down, me, the one who engineered the death of your friends, the Men of the Jedi Fjords, and see whether your father defends you or me!”
And Lúkr drew his sword, Lightsaber the Green, which lay next to the king, and raised it to strike the king. But Veidr’s sword, Lightsaber the Red, parried his blow.
Then Veidr and Lúkr fought, both of them with the greatest ferocity. It has never been said that there was any fault with the attack, or the defense, put up by either of them. Each cut frequently and hard for the other, and it seemed as if a great fire burned wherever their blades met. And then they began to fight so fiercely, that neither defended himself from the other, but rather cut as frequently and swiftly as possible, so that the very ship shook beneath them like a sail battered by wind. Men say that there has never been a more manly exchange of blows, that there has never been a fairer pair of weapons that crossed blades, that there has never been a more extraordinary fight, than that duel. But it ended in this way, that Veidr, whom men once called the Skywalker, slew his own son, Lúkr by name, who had also received the byname of Skywalker. Veidr was exceedingly badly wounded, and exhausted, and as he turned to where King Falfadinn sat, men say that his face was as waxen pale as a corpse’s.
You can also read the entire saga as a .pdf document here.