"Take therefore gold and gems from yon oak presses, and let the minstrels tune their harps and go forth to ask her in marriage from the sons of Bele."

So a long line of harpers went forth, followed by youths in glad array, and they stood before King Helge and King Halfdan, and gave to them the message of King Ring.

Now Helge was nothing loth to give his fair sister to the king, although he was an old man and she but a young girl; but, since he was always very heedful of the will of the gods, he offered sacrifice and carefully consulted the wise men and the wise women and all the omens as to whether this thing should be. And all with one consent answered that the marriage must not be allowed.

So Helge refused the king's request courteously enough, saying that man must obey when the gods decree; but Halfdan, being rude and waggish of tongue, said: "King Greybeard himself should have ridden hither for his bride if he is not too old to mount his horse!"

Then the messenger returned wrathful, and King Ring said grimly: "They shall soon see if King Greybeard be too old to take revenge," and with that he struck his war shield, as it hung on the tree above him, such a blow that the echo of it was borne even to the hall of Helge and Halfdan. Then he sent messengers, this time in warlike array, to the two kings, bidding them submit to his authority and pay him tribute. "If ye refuse," said they, "our king will send a great army and take the kingdom and utterly destroy you and your people."

But Helge and Halfdan answered with spirit:

"Not in our young days will we learn to do that which we will never know when old, and that is how to do shameful service to a neighbour king."

Then they summoned Hilding, their foster-father, and bade him go to Frithiof and pray him to come with his followers to their aid. And meantime, being in fear for their sister's safety, they sent her away to the dim grove where Balder's temple rose grey among the shadows. There, day by day, fair Ingeborg sat among her maidens at her embroidery, and as she drew the thread it was wet with her tears.

Now when Hilding, that good old yeoman, reached the hall of Frithiof, he found the hero sitting with Björn at a game of chess. Gladly was he greeted by the young man, who pointed to the High Chair, the chief seat at the board, and bade him sit and drink a horn of mead while they finished their game.

But Hilding, full of his errand, began at once to speak: "I am sent by the sons of Bele," said he. "They now salute thee and pray that thou wouldst go up to their help to battle against King Ring, who is about to attack their land with violence."