Back Aa

Frithiof Saga

Close

<h2 id="c12"><span class="h2line1">Chapter XII</span> <br/><span class="h2line2">Frithiof’s Return</span></h2> <p>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.</p> <p>“Past the green birch woods now,” cried Frithiof to Björn, “and Framnäs greets me!”</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_69">69</div> <p>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.</p> <p>“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.</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_70">70</div> <p>“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?”</p> <p>“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.”</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_71">71</div> <p>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!”</p> <p>“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.’</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_72">72</div> <p>“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.</p> <p>“‘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!’”</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_73">73</div> <p>“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!”</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_74">74</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />

1 of 2

2 of 2