"Would Frey fight men?" he was asked.
"If he is what I believe him," said Sigurd, "he would gladly fight men."
They rode on cautiously, taking what cover they could, and came up within a bowshot of the fight. Then they saw that there were eight men against the twenty, of whom some were fallen into the river, and some fell even as they looked. Nevertheless, the greater party was prevailing. They had pushed back the eight to the close neighbourhood of the wagon, and it looked as if it would go hard with them. Frey, they could see, stood fixedly in the front of the cart with his crown on his head, and his cone and rod in his hands. Sigurd wondered at him, and could not think it was Gunnar.
But even while he thought, he saw Frey drop his cone and reach stealthily behind him. He found what he wanted and held it behind his back, staring all the while fixedly in front.
"Then all of a sudden Frey ... leaped from the cart into the midst of the fight."
Frey and his Wife] [Page 241
Then all of a sudden Frey roared aloud, making a terrible booming noise, and leaped from the cart into the midst of the fight. Sigurd now saw that he had in his right hand an axe, and remarked with pleasure how doughtily he laid about him with it, and how men fell before him. Frey kept up his roaring, which was like the noise of a great buzzing windmill, and seemed to paralyze his enemies, who gave back in confusion until they were at the water's edge.
"Now is our time," said Sigurd, and gave the order to set on.
So they did, with spears, and completed the rout. All the remnant of the assailants was slain. Then Sigurd turned him to Frey.