would run much greater risk in the battle that was to
come. In fact, Hialmar and Arvarodd, whose ships had been damaged by
a storm, which had torn off their rudders, went into a wood to hew
another; and, going round the trunk with their axes, pared down the
shapeless timber until the huge stock assumed the form of a marine
implement. This they shouldered, and were bearing it down to the beach,
ignorant of the disaster of their friends, when the sons of Eyfura,
reeking with the fresh blood of the slain, attacked them, so that they
two had to fight many; the contest was not even equal, for it was a
band of twelve against two. But the victory did not go according to the
numbers. For all the sons of Eyfura were killed; Hialmar was slain
by them, but Arvarodd gained the honours of victory, being the only
survivor left by fate out of all that band of comrades. He, with an
incredible effort, poised the still shapeless hulk of the rudder, and
drove it so strongly against the bodies of his foes that, with a single
thrust of it, he battered and crushed all twelve. And, so, though they
were rid of the general storm of war, the band of rovers did not yet
quit the ocean.

This it was that chiefly led Frode to attack the West, for his one
desire was the spread of peace. So he summoned Erik, and mustered a
fleet of all the kingdoms that bid him allegiance, and sailed to Britain
with numberless ships. But the king of that island, perceiving that he
was unequal in force (for the ships seemed to cover the sea), went
to Frode, affecting to surrender, and not only began to flatter his
greatness, but also promised to the Danes, the conquerors of nations,
the submission of himself and of his country; proffering taxes,
assessment, tribute, what they would. Finally, he gave them a hospitable
invitation. Frode was pleased with the courtesy of the Briton, though
his suspicions of treachery were kept by so ready and unconstrained
a promise of everything, so speedy a surrender of the enemy before
fighting; such offers being seldom made in good faith. They were also
troubled with alarm about the banquet, fearing that as drunkenness came
on their sober wits might be entangled in it, and attacked by hidden
treachery. So few guests were bidden, moreover, that it seemed unsafe
for them to accept the invitation; and it was further thought foolish to
trust their lives to the good faith of an enemy whom they did not know.

When the king found their mind