he had reached an unhoped-for eminence; and
in order that the unlawful occupant might not debar the rightful heir to
the office, Fridleif told the envoys of the Danes to return, and request
Hiarn either to resign the kingdom or to meet him in battle. Hiarn
thought it more grievous than death to set lust of life before honour,
and to seek safety at the cost of glory. So he met Fridleif in the
field, was crushed, and fled into Jutland, where, rallying a band, he
again attacked his conqueror. But his men were all consumed with the
sword, and he fled unattended, as the island testifies which has taken
its name from his (Hiarno). And so, feeling his lowly fortune, and
seeing himself almost stripped of his forces by the double defeat, he
turned his mind to craft, and went to Fridleif with his face
disguised, meaning to become intimate, and find an occasion to slay him
treacherously.

Hiarn was received by the king, hiding his purpose under the pretence
of servitude. For, giving himself out as a salt-distiller, he performed
base offices among the servants who did the filthiest work. He used also
to take the last place at meal-time, and he refrained from the baths,
lest his multitude of scars should betray him if he stripped. The king,
in order to ease his own suspicions, made him wash; and when he knew his
enemy by the scars, he said: "Tell me now, thou shameless bandit, how
wouldst thou have dealt with me, if thou hadst found out plainly that
I wished to murder thee?" Hiarn, stupefied, said: "Had I caught thee I
would have first challenged thee, and then fought thee, to give thee a
better chance of wiping out thy reproach." Fridleif presently took
him at his word, challenged him and slew him, and buried his body in a
barrow that bears the dead man's name.

Soon after FRIDLEIF was admonished by his people to think about
marrying, that he might prolong his line; but he maintained that the
unmarried life was best, quoting his father Frode, on whom his wife's
wantonness had brought great dishonour. At last, yielding to the
persistent entreaties of all, he proceeded to send ambassadors to ask
for the daughter of Amund, King of Norway. One of these, named Frok, was
swallowed by the waves in mid-voyage, and showed a strange portent at
his death. For when the closing flood of billows encompassed him,
blood arose in the midst of the eddy, and the whole face of the sea was
steeped with an alien redness, so that the ocean, which a mom