The Frithiof Saga

Then Frithiof clasped his friend’s hand and, shaking off his sorrow, embarked with his comrades in the dragon, which was soon speeding onward through the foaming waves.

Helge and Halfdan were sitting on their father’s grave-mound near the sea, holding judgment for the people, when “Ellida” approached. Frithiof landed with his men and, entering the circle of warriors, thus addressed the two kings:

“I stand here before ye, O Kings! as suitor for the hand of Ingeborg. Surely your dead father would have smiled upon our union, since ’twas by his wish that we grew up together under Hilding’s guidance, like two saplings with branches intertwined, whose tops Frigga winds about with silver thread. Of no royal race am I, ’tis true, but the fame of my sires is ofttimes sung in royal halls, as well ye know. Easily might I win for myself a kingdom and wear the golden circlet on my brow; but ’tis my choice rather to dwell in the land of my birth, my sword ever ready to defend the throne or the hut of the poor. On King Bele’s mound we stand; in the depths below he heareth and speaketh for me—‘Join ye the hands of Frithiof and Ingeborg!’”

Frowning darkly, Helge rose and scornfully replied: “Not for a peasant’s son is our sister destined; none but a prince may hope to win her. Thou art called the mightiest hero in all the Northland; let that content thy pride, and aspire not to the hand of a maiden whose forefathers sprung from Odin himself. My kingdom needs not thy service; that shall be our own care. But if thou wouldst have a place at court among my hired warriors, that I will not deny thee.”

Frithiof laughed grimly. “I be thy vassal? Nay—I am a man for myself, even as was my father. Out, Angurvadel, from thy sheath!”

Bright flashed the blade in the sunlight, the runes glowing fiery red. “Now, Angurvadel, let us see if any shall deny that thou at least art high-born and noble! As for thee, King Helge, stood we not upon this sacred mound, I would smite thee to the dust! Take heed, hereafter, that thou come not too near my blade!”

With one blow Frithiof clove in twain Helge’s golden shield, that hung upon an oak tree, and the two halves fell with a crash that awakened hollow echoes from the vault below.

“Well struck, my sword!” cried Frithiof; “hide now thy gleam and dream thou of exploits more noble!”

Terror seized Helge and his followers, and all looked on silently while Frithiof returned to his ship and was borne swiftly away over the water out to the deep blue sea.

Chapter VI
King Ring

There reigned at this time in the far North a King named Ring, no longer young, but gentle and kindly as Balder himself, and sage as Mimir, who guards the fount of Wisdom. His realm was peaceful as a grove of the gods. The greenwood never echoed to the clash of arms, nor were the cornfields trampled by the hoofs of battle steeds. Justice held sway upon the Seat of Judgment about which the people gathered to hold their Ting, or general assembly, where each man had a voice in the affairs of the kingdom. Thither came many a white-sailed vessel, bringing treasures from a hundred coasts, in exchange for the country’s rich abundance. Wisely and well had King Ring guided the destinies of his people for more than thirty years, and prayers for his welfare ascended daily to Odin’s throne.

One day the King sat with his warriors in the royal hall. Long was the feast, and many a horn of foaming mead was drained; but at last he pushed back his gold chair from the board, while all the chiefs arose to do honor to the words of their lord. Sighing deeply, he began:

“My noble Queen was taken, as ye know, from out these mists of earth, and now in Frigga’s heavenly bower sits enthroned in purple robes. Naught remains to me but the flower-decked grave-mound where she lies. She was the treasure of my life. But my babes suffer for a mother’s care; the country lacks a queen. King Bele, who was often wont to be our honored guest, now also shares Valhalla’s joys; but he hath left a daughter, as fair, they say, as the lily and the rose in one, and her I choose to be my spouse. ’Tis true that she is young and like the Spring, while Winter’s frost has touched my locks with gray; but if it so be that she can trust an upright heart and nourish affection for helpless childhood in her breast, then will Autumn offer to the Spring its throne. Take gold from the vault-rooms, therefore, and gems and costly apparel from the chests, and go ye to Ingeborg’s brothers with my suit. Also let minstrels accompany you, that they may assist your wooing with song and harpstring.”

A band of chosen warriors set out without delay and, reaching the Court of King Bele’s sons, made known their errand. Three days they waited for an answer, while Helge, instead of taking wise counsel on the matter, offered up horses and falcons on the sacrificial stone and searched the entrails to discover the will of the gods. But on the fourth day, Ring’s messengers demanded an answer; whereupon Helge, deluded by the signs he had perceived, curtly rejected the monarch’s suit and the giddy Halfdan added jestingly:

“’Tis pity our feastings must have an end! Had King Graybeard but come hither with you, truly I myself would now have aided him to mount his horse!”

Suppressing their wrath, the envoys returned to their master with King Helge’s answer; nor did they fail to relate the affront that had been offered them by Halfdan.

“An evil hour shall it be for them, that sees King Graybeard on their shores!” cried Ring, as he smote the great war-shield that hung upon a linden tree in the castle courtyard. Swift throughout the land sped the summons to war, and soon a host of warriors had assembled. The haven was filled with dragon ships, and countless helm-plumes nodded in the breeze.

When the message of war reached King Helge, he was seized with fear, and hastily despatched his sister Ingeborg to Balder’s temple, which was held sacred all over the Northland. None had ever dared to violate this sanctuary, and there he deemed her safe from King Ring and his warriors.

Chapter VII
Frithiof at Chess

Frithiof was sitting with Björn in his hall at Framnäs before a splendid chessboard, the squares of which were alternate gold and silver, when Hilding entered. Greeting the old man kindly, Frithiof led him to the high-seat and bade him refresh himself with a horn of mead till he and his adroit adversary should have finished their match. But without waiting, Hilding began:

“I come on behalf of the two princes, Helge and Halfdan, to pray you to make peace with them. King Ring has declared war and they fear for the kingdom.”

“Take heed, Björn,” cried Frithiof, “thy King is in danger! A pawn, indeed, may save him; pawns are lightly sacrificed!”

Hilding, who well understood the double meaning of these words, continued:

“Let not thine anger master thee, my son! Against King Ring the princes may be weak; against thy single arm ’twere otherwise.”

Frithiof smiled.

“So thou dost threaten my castle, Björn!” he said. “But rest thee assured it will be well guarded.”

“In Balder’s Grove,” began Hilding once more, “Ingeborg doth weep the whole day long. Will not even her prayers move thee?”

“Ha! Björn, wouldst thou attack the Queen, dearer to me than life from childhood’s hour? The most precious piece in all the game is she, and her I will save, cost what it may!”

“Wilt thou give me no answer, nor yet end thy game?” asked Hilding, indignantly.

Then Frithiof arose, and grasping his old master’s hand, said earnestly: “Nay, be not angry with me, father, but hearken to my firm resolve. Say to Bele’s sons that never will he whose honor they have tarnished be their vassal.”

Hilding was silent for a space before he replied: “I must e’en perform my duty; yet neither can I blame thee for thy resolution. Odin will guide all for the best!”

Then mounting his horse, he rode thoughtfully away.

Chapter VIII
Frithiof goes to Ingeborg

When the sun had sunk low in the west, Frithiof said to Björn: “Let us away, for this night I must speak with Ingeborg.”

“How!” cried his friend, “wouldst thou violate Balder’s Grove?”

“Surely ’twill be no violation of Balder’s sanctuary if I do but seek in all honor and propriety to hold converse with the King’s daughter, my play-fellow and companion from our infancy!”

Björn said no more, and “Ellida” soon brought them to the holy grove, one side of which was bounded by the sea. By that way it was forbidden to enter, under penalty of death, while from the land none but the priests might grant entrance through the door in the high wall to those wishing to visit the grove and temple. Paying no heed to this prohibition, Frithiof boldly entered the grove from the shore and suddenly appeared before Ingeborg, to her mingled joy and terror.

“Fear not, dear Ingeborg,” he cried, clasping her hand, “that my presence here will profane Balder’s sanctuary. Nay, rather let us go into the temple and implore his aid and guidance.”

In silence the lovers entered the temple, and not till the dawn began to break did they emerge and seek the shore once more.

“Now have we plighted our troth before the gentle god,” said Frithiof, “and our love for each other shall therefore be publicly made known.”

Thereupon the maiden besought Frithiof to forget what had passed and be reconciled to her brother.

“Thy words accord with that which Balder hath implanted in my breast, fair maid,” replied Frithiof, “wherefore I will appear at the Ting and before all men offer to thy brother Helge the hand of peace. Soon shalt thou hear thereof.”

And with these words they parted.

Chapter IX
The Parting

Oft the next day did Ingeborg turn her footsteps toward the sea, and at last as she neared the wooded shore once more, the sails of the swiftly approaching dragon glimmered through the branches of the trees. It stopped, and Frithiof leaped lightly ashore.

“Welcome indeed art thou, Frithiof!” said Ingeborg; “but woe is me! I read my fate upon thy brow.”

“Seest thou not also blood-red runes thereon, bespeaking insult, shame, and banishment?”

“Nay, calm thyself, and tell me quickly what has passed.”

“Learn, then, my Ingeborg, the disgrace that I am forced to bear! I sought the assembly of the people gathered at thy father’s grave-mound, where, close circling, stood the Northland’s warriors, sword in hand and shield to shield. Within their ranks upon the Judgment seat, sat that pale blood-man Helge, his gloomy gaze fast fixed upon the ground, while beside him Halfdan, like some overgrown child, toyed idly with a slender sword.

“Then I stepped forth and spoke: ‘The clouds of war, O Helge, overhang thy boundaries. Thy kingdom is in jeopardy; but give me thy sister, and I’ll lend my arm, whose strength shall stand thee well in time of need. Forgotten be our grudge, for loath am I to cherish hate against the brother of my Ingeborg. Be just, O King! and save at once thy country and thy sister’s heart! As proof of faith I offer thee my hand in peace; but by the mighty Thor I swear that never again shall it be stretched to thee in reconcilement!’

“Loud plaudits rang from all about us; the clang of a thousand shields rose up to heaven. ‘Yea, give him Ingeborg!’ they shouted, ‘the fairest lily in our vales! Remember, King, that Frithiof is our stoutest swordsman. Give him thy sister!’

“Thereat our noble foster-father, Hilding, stepped from out the throng and spoke for me. From his lips fell many a weighty speech and biting proverb, while even Halfdan, too, did urge consent. But vain were my words, vain the shouts of the warriors, vain the intercession of Hilding and Halfdan! As little might the Spring sun coax a blade of grass from out the naked rock as our united prayers awake one kindly thought in Helge’s breast. Unchanged his lowering glance as scornfully he spoke:

“‘The peasant’s son might claim, perchance, our sister: but never shall the defiler of a temple win her hand. Speak, Frithiof! Hast thou not broken Balder’s peace? Hast thou not forced thy way into his holy temple, despite the law which so forbids? Answer yea or nay!’

“‘My life’s happiness,’ I answered, ‘hangs upon a word. Yet fear not, Helge; neither for Valhalla’s joys nor all this earth’s delights would I forswear myself. Yea; in Balder’s temple I have seen thy sister, but in no wise did I offend the pure and gentle god. Our prayers to him did waken holy thoughts within our hearts and led me here to offer peace to thee.’

“More I could not speak, for a murmur of horror ran through the circle; the warriors, paled by superstition, drew back from me as I were smitten with the plague; thy brother’s was the victory.

“At last he spoke: ‘By the laws of our fathers, mine is the right to sentence thee to banishment or death: but rather will I emulate in mildness that god whose sanctuary thou hast violated. Hearken then to my decree. Far to the westward lies a group of islands ruled by Augantyr. King Bele long ago did lay him under tribute, and this he faithfully remitted so long as our royal father was alive. Since Bele’s death he has refused it. Go thou and collect this tribute, as atonement for thy crime!’

“Then he added sneeringly: ‘’Tis said this Augantyr is hard-handed and sits brooding o’er his gold like Fafner, the famed dragon slain by Sigurd. But who could withstand our second Sigurd’s prowess? Truly this is far other work than seeking maids in Balder’s holy grove! Here till the Summer comes again we’ll wait for thy return, bringing fresh glory and—above all else—the tribute! But shouldst thou fail in this—thou shalt be doomed as coward, branded and banished forever from thy native land!’

“So ended his words; the assembly was dissolved, and the warriors dispersed in silence.”

“But what is now thy purpose, Frithiof?”

“Have I a choice? This very day I depart to redeem my honor.”

“And leave me here?”

“Nay, come with me, my Ingeborg!”

“Alas! that may not be.”

“Yet hear me, beloved, ere thou dost fix thy firm resolve. Thy brother in his wisdom forgets that Augantyr was once my father’s friend as well as Bele’s. Perchance he’ll yield with good-will what I ask; but should he not, this friend I carry at my side shall prove a sharp and powerful persuader. Then will I send to King Helge the gold he so desireth and free us both forever from the sacrificial knife of that crowned hypocrite; then we, my Ingeborg, will seek some distant happier land, and bid farewell to shores so hostile to our happiness. Look, my ‘Ellida’ doth already spread her eagle’s wings to bear us swiftly o’er the waves! Come, beloved, haste thee!”

“Alas! alas! I cannot follow.”

“What hinders thee, my Ingeborg? Were thy good father but alive, and did he—”

“Forget not, Frithiof, that Helge holds my father’s place with me. The gods have blessed and woven these bonds, and a woman dare not break them to steal her happiness, however near it lies.”

“Once more consider. Is this word thy last?”

“Alas! dear Frithiof, I cannot, dare not do else, if I would maintain my honor and thy own.”

“Then fare thee well, King Helge’s sister—fare thee well!”

“O Frithiof, Frithiof, is it thus thou wouldst depart—without a glance, without a hand-clasp for thy childhood’s friend? Methinks one who is forced to sacrifice as much as I, doth well deserve at least a word of comfort. The stir of life and clash of arms will ease thy grief, but what remains for me? To whom, alas! may I impart my woe? Within my bower I’ll sit, thinking of thee and weaving broken lilies in my web, till Spring herself with fairer lilies shall adorn my grave.”

“Cease! cease!” cried Frithiof with deep emotion, as he clasped the maiden’s hand. “Forgive me that my sorrow did assume the garb of anger. Thou art right. I see it now, my better angel. ’Tis true that only noble minds can teach us what is noble, and thy pure heart was quicker far to see the right than mine. Alone I’ll go, and part from thee—but never from my hope, whate’er betide! Next Spring shall Helge see me here again, the crime with which he charges me atoned. Then in full circle of the warriors, ’mid glittering steel will I demand thee from thy brother as my wife. Till then farewell, and keep me ever in thy thoughts. In memory of our childhood’s love take thou this arm-ring, a treasured heirloom of my father’s house: all the wonders of the heavens are carved upon it—but the world’s best wonder is a faithful heart. See! how it gleams on thy white arm like a glow-worm upon a lily’s stem!”

Thus they parted, and “Ellida” bore the hero swiftly away, while Ingeborg, sad and hopeless, betook her to her bower.

Chapter X
Frithiof’s Voyage

Cold blew the wind; day by day the skies darkened; deck and mast, sail and rudder were covered thick with ice and frost. Frithiof was already far from his native shores when suddenly black storm clouds overspread the heavens and a fearful tempest arose. The sea was stirred to its depths; waves mountain-high threatened to engulf the ship, which tossed helplessly amid the boiling surges. But Frithiof exulted in the fury of the elements; the wild scene upon which he gazed was but a reflection of the storm that raged within his breast. Still the tempest increased; showers of hailstones rattled down upon the deck and on the numbed hands of the warriors at the helm. A gust of wind tore away the cordage; planks and timbers groaned and creaked; huge billows swept the deck; and higher and higher rose the water in the hold despite all the efforts of the ship’s people, who now gave themselves up for lost. Even to Frithiof it seemed death was nigh.

“It is Helge that hath sent this storm upon us,” said one, “and who may withstand witchcraft?”

“Look!” cried another, “yonder swims a whale and bears on its back two sea-fiends! One is wrapped in the hide of the ice-bear; the other hath the shape of a sea-eagle, with black wings flapping. Woe unto us! ’tis the sea trolls, Heid and Ham! We are lost!” But Frithiof, summoning his friend Björn to take the helm, hastened to reassure the terror-stricken crew. His words put fresh courage in their hearts, and with redoubled strength they began once more to struggle against the fury of the storm.

“Courage, friends!” he shouted; “those who trust in the gods are safe from the power of evil spirits.” Then, springing to the ship’s prow, he chanted:

With one bound the dragon clove the Troll-whale’s body, and down it sank beneath the waves.

Instantly the storm subsided. The sun broke through the clouds and the waves no longer swept the deck. Soon the sea was as smooth as glass, and there before them lay the islands ruled by Augantyr. But the weary rowers could no longer move their arms, the warriors were forced to lean for support upon their swords. When the ship touched land, Björn carried four and Frithiof eight of the exhausted men ashore. Food and drink were then brought from the ship, and all refreshed themselves with a hearty meal.

Chapter XI
Frithiof at the Court of Augantyr

In his great hall near the sea sat Augantyr at wassail with his champions, while outside the window Halvar kept watch. A good swordsman and stout drinker was he, and often as his horn was empty he silently thrust it through the lattice to be refilled. Suddenly he flung it far into the hall and shouted: “I see a ship making to land! On it pale warriors totter helplessly about; but so strong and fresh are two of them that they carry the others to the shore.”

Augantyr strode to the window and gazed out toward the sea. Then he said: “That, methinks, hath the look of ‘Ellida,’ Thorsten’s dragon ship, and in one of yonder two stout warriors I seem to see old Thorsten’s form and bearing. Hath he not the air of a prince of all the land?”

When the black-bearded Atle heard this, the Berserk fury seized him. He sprang from the board with eyes rolling and shouted—“If this be Frithiof, now will I prove the truth of what is said, that he hath power to render harmless every blade, and never is the first to sue for peace.” He rushed from the hall, followed by twelve of the warriors. Hewing and thrusting furiously at the air with their swords, they stormed down to the shore, where Frithiof had built a fire to cheer his men. From afar, Atle shouted:

“Easy were it now for me to slay thee; but rather shalt thou have thy choice—to do battle with me here, or fly. But if thou wilt yield and sue for peace, then in friendly guise I’ll lead thee to our lord.”

“Is it your custom thus to welcome toil-worn heroes cast upon your shores?” was Frithiof’s answer. “Then listen! Spent as I am with days of hardship and distress, yet never will I sue for peace from thee”; and therewith he drew his sword, the runes on the blade growing red as fire. Fast and furious fell the sword-strokes. Both shields at the same moment dropped, riven in twain, upon the ground; yet fearlessly the champions fought on. At last down swept Angurvadel with resistless force, and loudly clanging Atle’s blade was shattered.

Frithiof stepped back, saying, “Swordless I will not slay thee; but if thou wouldst not yet have peace then let us try a wrestling contest.”

Foaming with rage, Atle sprang at him and a fearful struggle began. Like two eagles seizing on their prey, they grappled with each other. The earth shook with the trampling of their feet. It seemed as if the heaving of their breasts would burst the encasing mail, while in awe their comrades stood about them waiting for the issue of the contest. At length Thorsten’s mighty son succeeded in throwing his adversary, and, kneeling on his breast, he cried:

“Were but my sword within my grasp, its blade e’er now had pierced thee through, thou swarthy Berserk!”

“Go, then, and fetch it—I will lie here the while,” said Atle proudly. “All brave men to Valhalla’s halls must wend at last—I to-day and thou to-morrow.”

Still filled with the rage of battle, Frithiof with one bound reached his sword and was about to despatch his prostrate foe, who moved not, but lay calmly gazing upward, when he suddenly relented and, dropping his sword, held out his hand to the vanquished Atle. Just then Halvar came hurrying thither waving a white wand and crying:

“Cease, cease your furious strife! The savory viands that await ye grow cold in their silver dishes, and my thirst doth press me sore.”

Therewith the two heroes who but now had striven in deadly combat together sought the court of Augantyr in peace.

The appearance of the great hall filled Frithiof with astonishment. In place of the usual oaken planks the walls were covered with gilded leather adorned with flowering vines. The chimney was of marble; tapers in silver candlesticks illuminated the halls; the doors were held fast with locks. A bountiful meal stood ready spread in heavy silver dishes, and near the high-seat a roasted stag adorned the board, the horns entwined with leaves, the hoofs gilded. On the high-seat of silver sat Augantyr, clad in helm and mail of glittering steel, inlaid with gold, a purple mantel sown with silver stars depending from his shoulders. He arose as Frithiof entered, and advanced to meet his guest, saying:

“Full many a horn have I drained in Thorsten’s company, and glad am I to do fitting honor to his valiant son.”

Then leading him to a place beside him on the high-seat, he called on all his warriors to fill their horns and beakers and drink to Thorsten’s memory, while the hall rang to the sound of harps, as minstrels praised that hero’s glorious deeds.

Meanwhile Augantyr questioned his guest concerning matters in the Northland; and in well-chosen words, avoiding either praise or blame, Frithiof related all that had passed, concluding with his voyage and the terrible sea witches against whose power they had been forced to contend. So eloquently did he describe their adventures that Augantyr listened with approving smiles, and the bold champions about the board often interrupted the speaker with their shouts. Then Augantyr inquired the purpose of his voyage, and Frithiof told him frankly of his love for Ingeborg, of Helge’s arrogance, and the penance that had been laid upon him.

“For this have I come,” he concluded, “to demand of thee in behalf of Kings Helge and Halfdan, the tribute thou wast wont to pay in Bele’s lifetime.”

Calmly Augantyr replied: “Never have I owned another as my lord. Free do I live; free also are my people about these seas. What I sent Bele was not enforced, but given in friendship. His sons I know not. If they would have tribute from me, let them demand it with the sword—then shall they have the best of answers! Yet thy father was my friend.”

He beckoned to his daughter, who sat near him on a golden stool, and she hastened to the women’s chamber, soon returning with a purse whereon was worked with rare skill a green forest scene—animals of gold wandered beneath the trees, and above shone a silver moon. The tassels were strung with costly pearls, the clasp enriched with rubies. Augantyr took this purse, filled it to the brim with pieces of gold, and handed it to his guest, saying, “Take this as a gift of welcome, son of Thorsten, and do with it as thou wilt; but as for claim, I refuse to acknowledge any such. Hear now my wish: tarry thou here till Spring comes, as my honored guest. Courage and boldness stand thee well in time of danger, it is true, yet think not thine ‘Ellida’ may withstand all the perils of the stormy season. And remember there are demons in the sea more mighty yet than those which thou didst vanquish.”

To this Frithiof gladly agreed, and he held out his hand to his hospitable host, saying: “Be it, then, as thou wilt!”

Chapter XII
Frithiof’s Return

The winter passed, and again were hill and valley, grove and forest, clothed with bloom and verdure. Then Frithiof thanked his host, and, bidding him farewell, was soon speeding joyously away across the foaming main. Six times the sun rose and set, and the seventh morning found him near his journey’s end. Consumed with longing, Frithiof rose early and mounted to the deck. There, veiled in the mists of dawn, he saw his native shores and heard the familiar rushing of its mountain streams. Light as a bird flew “Ellida” o’er the dancing waves and in her swelling sails the western breezes sang like nightingales. Just as the first ray of sunlight fell on land and sea they entered the well-known haven.

“Past the green birch woods now,” cried Frithiof to Björn, “and Framnäs greets me!”

With beating heart and gleaming eyes he waited—but what is this? Is he bewitched? There lies the open space where his forefathers built their dwelling, yet naught is to be seen of it. Do his eyes deceive him? He rubs them and looks again at the familiar spot; but neither house nor building of any kind is there, only a tall blackened chimney stands out dark against the sky. Looking closer, where Framnäs stood, he sees a great pile of ruins, from which the ashes whirl aloft.

“Ellida’s” anchor is dropped, and silently Frithiof approaches the scene of devastation. Stones and charred beams are strewn around or heaped together in confusion; fruit trees stretch forth their shrivelled branches; about the levelled grave-mounds lie the bones of heroes. As Frithiof stands spellbound amid the desolation, his faithful hound Bran comes bounding to meet him. Yelping with joy he leaps upon his master, while out from the dale trots a milk-white courser, neighing and tossing his gold-knotted mane. Frithiof stroked the dog’s head and patted his favorite’s glossy neck; but the shadow on his brow remained unaltered. Then he saw Hilding, his aged foster-father coming toward him with mournful look.

“Welcome, father, to the ruins of Framnäs!” he cried, and then added bitterly: “But why should this sight surprise me? ’Tis when the eagle is flown that boys plunder his nest. So thus doth King Helge guard the hut of the peasant; thus he keeps his royal oath! Rage at his dastardly act more moves me than grief for what is lost. But tell me first of all, good father, where is Ingeborg?”

“Alas! my son,” replied Hilding, “I fear my tidings will but aggravate thy woe, yet listen to what has passed. Scarce wert thou gone when King Ring invaded the country, his force outnumbering ours full five to one. In the Disardale we met, and bloody was the battle. The waters of the stream ran red with gore. Halfdan, as ever, laughed and jested; but so bravely did he bear him, my heart was gladdened at the sight, and twice did my shield protect him from a death-stroke. The victory might even have been ours, had not King Helge, seized with panic, fled; whereat the people’s courage, too, forsook them, and, flinging down their arms, they scattered far and wide. But in his flight King Helge paused to fire thy house. Ring then demanded of the brothers lands and crown, or that they yield him up their sister’s hand. Messengers went often to and fro, and in the end King Ring bore Ingeborg homeward as his Queen.”

Frithiof laughed wildly: “Who now,” he cried, “dare talk to me of woman’s truth, since she whom I deemed true as Nanna’s self hath proven faithless? Hereafter naught but hate for mankind shall my bosom harbor; henceforth the seas shall have their fill of blood, for none who cross my path shall Angurvadel spare!”

“Nay, son,” said Hilding sorrowfully, “abate thy wrath, nor seek to revenge thy wrongs upon the innocent. Rather accuse the Norns, whose doom on thee hath fallen. What Ingeborg doth suffer I alone can tell. Before all others her despair was dumb as is the turtle dove that mourns her mate. So doth the sea fowl, pierced by death’s arrow, sink beneath the waves, in those cool depths to pour away her life. ‘Atonement’—so she spake—‘hath been decreed by Balder for Frithiof’s violation of his holy place; nor may I, faint-hearted, seek to shun the sacrifice. To death he dooms me, not swift,—ah! that were easy,—but lingering—slow, to waste away with grief. To that decree I yield. Reveal to no one what I suffer. I desire pity from none. But be thou the bearer of my last farewell to Frithiof.’

“At last the wedding day was come (Oh, would that evil day had never dawned!); to Balder’s temple walked a train of white-robed maidens, led by a bard whose mournful chant moved every heart to woe. Amid them, on a coal-black steed rode Ingeborg, like that pale spirit which surmounts the thunder cloud. Before the doors of the temple I lifted my lily from her saddle and led her to the altar. With unfaltering tongue she spoke her vows; but unto Balder then she prayed in such heart-rending tones that every eye save hers was filled with tears. Then for the first time Helge marked the ring she wore. With a furious glance he tore it from her and placed thy gift upon the arm of Balder. But thereat I could no longer suppress my rage, and, snatching my sword from out its sheath, approached the King as he stood before the image of the god. Of as little worth was he to me at that moment as the lowest of his people, and verily a crime would have been committed in that sacred place had not a whisper reached my ears from Ingeborg.

“‘Nay, stay thy hand. Stain not thy spotless blade! My brother might indeed have spared me this; but much a heart can suffer ere it break, and the All-Father shall one day judge between us!’”

“Ay, Ingeborg,” cried Frithiof, “thou speakest truly—the All-Father will one day judge between us! But he also metes out justice here below by mortal hand, and ’tis in my heart that I am hither led to be the judge of one. Is not to-day the Midsummer feast of Balder, that Helge celebrates within his temple? Now, crowned priest, thou who hast sold thy sister, thou who hast robbed me of my bride, behold to-day thy judge!”

Chapter XIII
The Burning of the Temple

It was midnight. Low across the mountains burned the blood-red sun, which in far northern Scandinavia never sets on the longest day of the year. Neither day nor night was it—an awful twilight reigned. Within the temple Balder’s great feast was being celebrated. High in the air shot the flames from the sacred hearthstone, while pale, white-bearded priests raked the brands till showers of crackling sparks flew upward. Clad in his royal robes, Helge presided at the altar.

Suddenly the clash of arms sounded without, and a voice was heard: “Björn, hold fast the door! Let none escape! If any strive by force to pass thee, cleave his skull!” Helge grew deadly pale; he knew that voice too well. Then in strode Frithiof and addressed him:

“Here is the tribute thou didst order me to bring thee from Augantyr. Take it! And now, for life or death we’ll strive before this altar. One of us twain must burn on Balder’s pyre. Shieldless we’ll fight and thou, as befits a King, shalt have first stroke. But beware, I say, for I strike second. Nay—gaze not fearfully about, nor seek escape, King Fox! Caught in thy hole art thou at last. Remember Framnäs that thou didst lay waste, and think of Ingeborg’s cheeks, blanched by thee!”

Beside himself with fury, Frithiof tore the heavy purse of gold from his belt and hurled it at the head of the King, who straightway sank swooning on the altar steps, blood gushing from his mouth and nose.

“What! canst thou not bear the weight of thine own gold?” shouted Frithiof. “Shame! shame! thou coward King! Truly my sword is far too noble for thee, nor shall it taste of blood so base as thine. Silence, ye pale priests of moonlight, nor dare to lift your sacrificial knives! Back, back, I say, for thirsty grows my blade!”

He lifted his eyes to the image of Balder. “Thou shining god, frown not so darkly on me!” Then, perceiving the arm-ring he had given to Ingeborg, his anger blazed up fiercer than before.

“Nay—by thy leave,” he cried; “that ring came not in lawful fashion on thy arm! Not for thee did Vaunlund forge its wonders; and he who is its master claims his own.”

He pulled at the ring, but it seemed grown fast to Balder’s arm. Putting forth all his strength, at last he tore it loose; but therewith down crashed the image of the god into the fire below. Higher and higher leaped the flames, till beam and rafter kindled. Horror-stricken, Frithiof stood for a moment motionless; then turning to the door, he shouted:

“Open, Björn! Let all depart! The feast is over. The temple blazes; bring water! Hasten, all, to quench the flames!”

Quickly a chain of men to the sea is formed. From hand to hand the buckets fly, while high up among the rafters stands Frithiof, calm amid the mounting flames, and directs his comrades. But vain are all their efforts. The golden plates of the roof melt and drop down into the fiery sands.

“All is lost!” shout the people. “See the red fire-cock, how he stands upon the roof-tree and ever wider spreads his glowing wings!”

A strong wind arose and whirled the flaming brands into the treetops, dry from the summer heats. Raging from branch to branch it leaped, and soon the whole grove was one sea of fire. When morning broke, Balder’s Grove and Temple lay in ashes, while Frithiof sat within his dragon ship and wept.

Chapter XIV
Frithiof in Exile

As “Ellida” passed the strand, Frithiof gazed from the deck with gloomy brow upon the scene of conflagration, from which the thick smoke still ascended, and anguish filled his breast.

“Woe, woe is me!” he cried to himself; “in accusation rises yonder smoke to Odin’s halls! Banished was I by Helge but for a brief space; now must I forever leave my native land. Be thou, O sea, from hence my country. On thy blue billows will I make my home. Framnäs no longer is my dwelling; thou, swift ‘Ellida,’ shalt be now my house. My bride, too, art thou in thy black garb, since she in lily robes is lost to me forever. Free dost thou roll, O mighty ocean! No tyrant’s will can ever do thee wrong; the only King thou callest master is he who looks upon thee calmly when thy white breast heaves in wildest fury, and thunder peals are swallowed in thy voice. No grave-mound e’er shall rise above me; thy tossing waves shall cover deep my bones.”

Here Björn approached and touched his shoulder, saying, “Look! yonder King Helge makes his way amid the rocks. Methinks he hath yet a word to speak with thee.” Ten dragon ships were seen approaching. Frithiof sprang to his feet and bade his men prepare for battle. Joyously they shouted:

“King Helge wearies of the crown. His soul thirsts for Valhalla’s delights. Now shall he fall; bold Frithiof leads us unto victory.”

On came the ships in a half-circle, surrounding “Ellida.” Helge had given orders to slay Frithiof and all his men, but to capture the ship as their prize. Suddenly a strange sight met the eyes of Frithiof and his warriors and filled them with amazement: nine of the ships sank slowly down beneath the waves, while Helge himself escaped with difficulty to the shore. Björn laughed.

“’Twas I that scuttled the ships last night, unseen. A good trick it was, and all befell as I had hoped, save that King Helge has escaped!”

Now all the sails were spread and the ship sped swiftly out to sea. Backward gazing, Frithiof watched the fast receding shore and chanted a song that moved all hearts to sadness:

Chapter XV
Frithiof’s Viking Life

Thus Frithiof became a viking, the sea his only home; and these are the laws he made for his followers:

“Pitch no tent on thy ship; seek no slumber below. On his shield sleeps the viking, his sword in his hand. His tent is the blue dome of heaven.

“Short be thy sword, like the hammer of Thor; strike close to the foe.

“When the storm roars on high, spread wider the sails: The sea in its wrath fills the viking with joy; a coward is he who would furl.

“Wine is drink of the gods. Enjoy thou the gift, but drown not thy senses—beware! He who falls on the land rises quickly again; who staggers here is the death-goddess’ prey!

“Protect the merchant ship on the high seas so due tribute it doth not refuse. Thou art lord of the waves; he’s a slave to his pelf. Thy steel is as good as his gold. By lot shall the booty be shared among all; complain not however it falls. The Sea King himself throws no dice on the deck; he seeks only glory from his foes.

“Heaves a viking in sight, then come boarding and strife; from us he is banished who yields. Mercy fits him who conquers; he who lays down his arms at thy feet is no longer thy foe.

“Prayer is Valhalla’s child, and a scoundrel is he who, ruthless, refuses to hear it.

“The viking’s rewards are his wounds; before all, on the brow and the breast are they glorious. He who seeketh ere issue of battle to bind them no longer is comrade of viking.”