Atle, one of his vassals, seized his sword and shield and rushed down to the sea-shore. There he and Frithiof fought upon the sand. At the first blow both the shields were cleft from top to bottom, and Atle's sword was broken.
Frithiof threw down his sword and the two warriors wrestled together. Soon Atle was overcome and lay upon the sand with Frithiof's knee upon his breast.
Then Frithiof said, "If I had my sword, you should feel its sharp edge and die." Atle replied that he would lie still while Frithiof went for his sword.
When Frithiof returned, he found Atle lying upon the ground awaiting death. But he thought it a shame to kill so brave a man. So he gave Atle his hand, and they went into Jarl Argantyr's house together.
Jarl Argantyr sat in a silver chair high above the others. His robe was of purple trimmed with ermine. His golden armor hung on the wall behind him.
On the table before him stood a deer roasted whole. The deer's hoofs were gilded and raised as if to leap. Before the Jarl stood scalds and harpers, who sang of the deeds of heroes.
Jarl Argantyr welcomed Frithiof and asked his errand. When Frithiof told why he had come
