the report of their vast numbers. When he
returned, Frode bad him relate what he had discovered, and he said that
he had seen six kings each with his fleet; and that each of these fleets
contained five thousand ships, each ship being known to hold three
hundred rowers. Each millenary of the whole total he said consisted of
four wings; now, since the full number of a wing is three hundred, he
meant that a millenary should be understood to contain twelve hundred
men. When Frode wavered in doubt what he could do against so many, and
looked eagerly round for reinforcements, Erik said: "Boldness helps the
righteous; a valiant dog must attack the bear; we want wolf-hounds, and
not little unwarlike birds." This said, he advised Frode to muster his
fleet. When it was drawn up they sailed off against the enemy; and so
they fought and subdued the islands lying between Denmark and the East;
and as they advanced thence, met some ships of the Ruthenian fleet.
Frode thought it shameful to attack such a handful, but Erik said:
"We must seek food from the gaunt and lean. He who falls shall seldom
fatten, nor has that man the power to bite whom the huge sack has
devoured." By this warning he cured the king of all shame about making
an assault, and presently induced him to attack a small number with a
throng; for he showed him that advantage must be counted before honour.

After this they went on to meet Olmar, who because of the slowness of
his multitude preferred awaiting the enemy to attacking it; for the
vessels of the Ruthenians seemed disorganized, and, owing to their size,
not so well able to row. But not even did the force of his multitudes
avail him. For the extraordinary masses of the Ruthenians were stronger
in numbers than in bravery, and yielded the victory to the stout handful
of the Danes.

When Frode tried to return home, his voyage encountered an unheard-of
difficulty. For the crowds of dead bodies, and likewise the fragments of
shields and spears, bestrewed the entire gulf of the sea, and tossed on
the tide, so that the harbours were not only straitened, but stank. The
vessels stuck, hampered amid the corpses. They could neither thrust off
with oars, nor drive away with poles, the rotting carcases that floated
around, or prevent, when they had put one away, another rolling up and
driving against the fleet. You would have thought that a war had arisen
with the dead, and there was a strange combat with the lifeless.

So