<h2 id="c15"><span class="h2line1">Chapter XV</span> <br/><span class="h2line2">Frithiof’s Viking Life</span></h2>
<p>Thus Frithiof became a viking, the sea
his only home; and these are the laws
he made for his followers:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Pitch no tent on thy ship; seek no slumber below.
On his shield sleeps the viking, his sword in his
hand. His tent is the blue dome of heaven.</p>
<p>“Short be thy sword, like the hammer of Thor; strike
close to the foe.</p>
<p>“When the storm roars on high, spread wider the sails:
The sea in its wrath fills the viking with joy; a coward is
he who would furl.</p>
<p>“Wine is drink of the gods. Enjoy thou the gift, but
drown not thy senses—beware! He who falls on the land
rises quickly again; who staggers here is the death-goddess’
prey!</p>
<p>“Protect the merchant ship on the high seas so due
tribute it doth not refuse. Thou art lord of the waves;
he’s a slave to his pelf. Thy steel is as good as his gold.
By lot shall the booty be shared among all; complain not
however it falls. The Sea King himself throws no dice on
the deck; he seeks only glory from his foes.</p>
<p>“Heaves a viking in sight, then come boarding and
strife; from us he is banished who yields. Mercy fits him
who conquers; he who lays down his arms at thy feet is no
longer thy foe.</p>
<p>“Prayer is Valhalla’s child, and a scoundrel is he who,
ruthless, refuses to hear it.</p>
<p>“The viking’s rewards are his wounds; before all, on
the brow and the breast are they glorious. He who seeketh
ere issue of battle to bind them no longer is comrade of
viking.”</p>
</blockquote>
<div class="pb" id="Page_82">82</div>
<p>Thus ran the code of Frithiof, and no laws of
Odin were more strictly obeyed. Many a battle
did these heroes fight and win, for there was not
their like on all the seas; and soon their fame
spread far and wide. But naught of this had power
to gladden Frithiof’s heart; he would sit, helm in
hand, for hours with clouded brow, gazing out over
the rolling waters. Only in battle did the shadow
vanish, as with flashing eyes and fiercely swelling
breast he led his men to victory.</p>
<p>For three years they sailed the seas northward and
westward; then turning south, his dragon anchored
one day off the coast of Greek-land (Greece). With
wonder Frithiof gazed upon that beauteous land,
with its noble ruined temples rising amid fragrant
groves. The tales his father had been wont to tell
of those fair isles still lingered in his memory like
some lovely vision—a dream that now was realized.
Hither had he once thought to flee with Ingeborg
from the haughty Helge, here with her to found an
abode of bliss, but the noble maiden had denied his
prayers and shrunk from such a breach of duty and
of custom. Amid these fair scenes memories of his
native land awoke afresh within him, and he longed
to see it once again. But most of all he yearned
for a sight of Ingeborg and to visit his father’s grave-mound.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_83">83</div>
<p>“Why do I linger here in strange seas and stain my
hands with blood?” he asked himself. “Enough
of glory have I won, and I care not for gold. North
points the flag on the masthead. To the Northland
the home of my youth! Up, ‘Ellida’! no longer
we’ll tarry, but follow that token from Heaven!”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_84">84</div>
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