Over the sea sailed Frithiof with his friends in the good ship _Ellide_
to the home of the brave earl Angantyr. The old man, joyous and
light-hearted, one day looked over the sea and saw the white-winged
ship bringing the brave heroes.
"That is _Ellide_ coming, and the hero with firm and steady step is
Frithiof, son of Thorsten. No one in the Northland has so brave a brow
and so bright a smile."
Then the sturdy Atle sprang up crying: "Now will I go and prove what
truth there is in the report that Frithiof breaks all swords and never
sues for peace."
When he saw Frithiof he cried: "No one comes here but he either fights
or flies. If you beg for peace, I shall receive you in friendship and
take you to the earl."
Frithiof replied sharply: "Before I cry for peace our good swords must
be tested."
Then flashed his sword-blade, the bright Angurvadel. The men fought
long and cleft each other's shields, but finally Atle's sword was
broken and Frithiof's sword was king.
Then said the victor: "I do not wish to slay a swordless foe. If you
wish, let us strive as yeomen, man to man, without weapons."
So they wrestled breast to breast as two bears trying their strength,
or as wave breaking against wave. The firm earth trembled, and the
great oaks scarce could endure the shock.
But Frithiof proved the stronger, and at length brought proud Atle to
the ground. Angrily he said: "If my good sword were at my hand,
through thy body would I plunge it, thou black-beard!"
"Go bring it! Who'll prevent thee?" cried the brave Atle. "Here will
I lie if that will content thee. All must Valhal see; I, to-day; thou,
perhaps, to-morrow!"
Then Frithiof fetched the gleaming Angurvadel, but the good sword
harmed not the noble foe. Frithiof struck the sand with the blade, for
he admired the courage of the brave Atle.
As friends Frithiof and Atle then entered the palace of Angantyr.
Everything seemed new and beautiful to Frithiof. Instead of planks
well matched, leather embroidered in gold covered the walls. No rough
hearthstone littered the centre of the hall, but a marble fireplace was
built up against the side. In the windows were fitted panes of glass,
and a key secured the door.
Here were no wooden torches as light of the feast, but waxen candles
gleamed brightly in their silver sconces. The roasted stag gracing the
table had gold bands on his hoofs, and flowers wreathed his horns.
Three steps the earl descended, saying to Frithiof: "Come sit by me,
brave son of Thorsten."
Then was Thorsten's praise chanted by the singers, and his brave deeds
were sung in the old Norse tongue.
The earl asked much about his friends of long ago. Frithiof answered
wisely and kindly, and all the warriors cheered him loudly. Soon he
spoke of the errand that brought him from his own land. Angantyr
listened kindly but replied:
"I never paid tribute to Bele and shall not to his sons. If they wish
to take it, let them meet us on the strand and see who is best. But
Thorsten was my friend," continued the earl, and beckoned to his
daughter, who sat near him.
The beautiful maid hastened to her room and brought back a green silk
purse all deftly wrought. The tassels were made of gold and the clasps
shone with rubies.
Angantyr took the treasure and filled it with gold. Giving it to
Frithiof, he said: "This welcome gift is a tribute to you, my friend,
but not to King Helge. And now I beg you, Frithiof, to pass the long
winter hours with us, your friends and the friends of your fathers."