“Ever back to back we stood when danger threatened,” said King Bele, “and if it came still closer, then with one shield we met it. Hold fast together as one man, ye three, and never shall the Northland see your overmatch; for strength bound to kingly rank and power is like the steel rim that encircles the shield of gold. Fail not to greet for me my fair rose Ingeborg, who in peace and quiet hath bloomed as becomes a royal maiden. Shield her well with brotherly love and loyalty, that no rude tempest bear away my tender flower. Be thou a father to her, Helge; guard her as your own child, yet forget not that harsh constraint will oft revolt a noble heart, which by gentleness may easily be guided in the path of virtue and of custom. Let our weary bodies be laid to rest beneath two grave-mounds, on either side of the stream, that its rushing waters may chant for us eternal praises of the heroes. Oft at the midnight hour, when the pale moon sheds her silvery splendors and the cooling dews descend upon our mounds, shall thou and I, my Thorsten, discourse of olden days across the flood, and our voices will mingle with the murmuring of the waves. And now, dear sons, farewell! farewell! Leave us in peace, that far from the court we may prepare ourselves to enter into the glories of Valhalla.” Chapter IV Frithiof’s Inheritance The two aged heroes died as they had hoped, within a short time of each other, and were buried as King Bele had bidden, the two princes being declared joint heirs to the throne by decree of the people; while Frithiof took possession of his heritage, Framnäs. His lands were on the coast, and extended for three miles in each direction. Forests of birch crowned the mountain tops, whose slopes were covered with golden barley and waving rye, growing to the height of a man. Lakes teeming with fish mirrored the wooded heights. Through the forests, threaded with rushing streams, roamed noble stags, proud and stately as kings. On the rich meadows herds of cattle with sleek glossy hides cropped the green sward; while here and there roved flocks of sheep, like fleecy cloudlets slowly drifting across the blue vault of heaven. Ranged in two rows, twelve pairs of fiery coursers pawed impatiently in their stalls; shod with shining steel were their hoofs, their manes knotted with red.