Denmark -- History -- To 1241; Folklore -- Scandinavia
"In the slaying of the swift monster we wielded our blood-stained swords
and our crimsoned blade, whilst thou, Amund, lord of the Norwegian ruin,
wert in deep slumber; and since blind night covers thee, without any
light of soul, thy valour has melted away and beguiled thee. But we
crushed a giant who lost use of his limbs and wealth, and we pierced
into the disorder of his dreary den. There we seized and plundered his
piles of gold. And now with oars we sweep the wave-wandering main, and
joyously return, rowing back to the shore our booty-laden ship; we fleet
over the waves in a skiff that travels the sea; gaily let us furrow
those open waters, lest the dawn come and betray us to the foe. Lightly
therefore, and pulling our hardest, let us scour the sea, making for our
camp and fleet ere Titan raise his rosy head out of the clear waters;
that when fame noises the deed about, and Frogertha knows that the spoil
has been won with a gallant struggle, her heart may be stirred to be
more gentle to our prayer."
On the morrow there was a great muster of the forces, and Fridleif had
a bloody battle with Amund, fought partly by sea and partly by land. For
not only were the lines drawn up in the open country, but the warriors
also made an attack with their fleet. The battle which followed cost
much blood. So Biorn, when his ranks gave back, unloosed his hound and
sent it against the enemy; wishing to win with the biting of a dog the
victory which he could not achieve with the sword. The enemy were by
this means shamefully routed, for a square of the warriors ran away when
attacked with its teeth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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