The following account gives a picture of the life of these champions:
“The bóndi Svip lived in Sweden far away from other men; he was wealthy and had been the greatest champion and not all he looked, as he knew many things. He had three sons, Svipdag, Geigad, and Hvitserk, who was the oldest; they were all well skilled, strong, and fine-looking men. When Svipdag was eighteen winters old he said one day to his father: ‘Our life here in the mountains, in far-off valleys and unsettled places, where men never visit nor receive visits, is dull; it would be better to go to Adils and follow him and his champions, if he will receive us.’ Svip answered: ‘I do not think this advisable, for King Adils is a cruel man and not trustworthy though he uses fair words, and his men are jealous and strong, but certainly he is powerful and famous.’ Svipdag said: ‘A man must risk something if he wishes to get fame; he cannot know, before he tries, when luck will come to him.’ His father gave him a large axe and said to his son, ‘Be not greedy; do not boast, for that gives a bad reputation, but defend yourself if attacked, for a great man should boast little and behave well in difficulties.’ He gave him good war clothes and a good horse. Then Svipdag rode and at night came to the burg of King Adils; he saw that games were taking place outside the hall, and Adils sat on a large gold chair and his Berserks near him. When Svipdag came to the fence[[369]] the gate of the burg was shut, for it was then customary to ask leave to ride in; Svipdag did not take that trouble, and broke open the gate and rode into the yard. Then the King said: ‘This man comes here recklessly, as this has never been done before. It may be that he has great strength and has no fear.’ The Berserks at once got very angry and thought that he asserted himself too much. Svipdag rode before the King, and saluted him well in a skilful manner. Adils asked who he was, and he told him. The King soon recognized him, and every one thought he was a great and high-born champion. The games were continued; Svipdag sat on a fallen tree and looked on. The Berserks eyed him angrily, and said to the King that they wanted to try him; the King answered: ‘I think that he has no little strength, but I should like you to try whether he is such a man as he considers himself.’
“When men gathered into the hall the Berserks walked towards Svipdag and asked him if he was a champion, as he made so much of himself: he answered that he was as great a one as any of them. At these words their anger and eagerness (to fight) increased. But the King told them to be quiet that night; they began to frown, and howled loudly, and said to Svipdag: ‘Darest thou fight us? Then thou wilt need more than mere big words and boasting. We will try how much there is in thee.’ Svipdag answered: ‘I will consent to fight one at a time and will see if more can be done.’ The King was well pleased that they should do this. Queen Yrsa said: ‘This man shall be welcome here.’ The Berserks answered her: ‘We knew before that thou didst want to send us all to Hel, but we are too big to be killed by words alone or ill-will.’
“In the morning began a hard holmganga, and there was no lack of heavy blows; the new-comer knew how to use his sword with great strength and the Berserks gave way. Svipdag killed one, and another wanted to avenge him but suffered the same fate, and Svipdag did not stop before he had slain four; then Adils said, ‘Great loss hast thou caused to me, and now thou shalt pay for it,’ and he asked men to rise and kill him. The Queen got men and wanted to help him, and said that the King could see that there was much more skill in him alone than in all the Berserks. The Queen made peace between them, and every one considered Svipdag to be a man of great prowess. Now he sat on the lower bench opposite the King, by the wish of Queen Yrsa. He looked round and thought he had not done harm enough to the Berserks, and wished to urge them to fight, and thought it likely that if they saw him alone they would attack him; it was as he thought, for they began at once to fight. The King came when they had been fighting for a while and parted them. Afterwards the King outlawed the remaining Berserks as they could not all together fight a single man, saying he had not before known that they were great only in boasting. They had to go, but threatened to make warfare in the realm of King Adils. The King replied that he did not care for their threats.
“Adils asked Svipdag to help him as much now as all the Berserks had done before, especially as the Queen wanted him in their place. Svipdag stayed there for some while” (Hrólf Kraki, c. 18, 19).
“Now the winter passed, and the time came when the Berserks of King Hrólf were expected home. Bödvar asked Hjalti about their customs; he answered that it was their habit when they came home to the hird to walk first up to the king, and then to every man, and ask if the man thought himself their equal. The king used to answer, that is hard to tell as you are such valiant men, and as you have won renown in bloody battles against several people in the southern and northern half of the world. He gives this answer more from his good-will than unmanliness, for he knows their temper and they win great victories and much property for him. They then walk up to every man in the hall and put the same question, and no one answers that he is their equal. Bödvar said: ‘Few good warriors are here with Hrólf, as they are all cowed by the Berserks.’ No more was said. Next yule-eve Bödvar had been one year with Hrólf, and when they sat at table the door of the hall was thrown open, and in came twelve Berserks, all over grey with iron (coat of mail), which looked like broken ice. Bödvar asked Hjalti in a low voice if he dared try himself against one of them. ‘Yes,’ said Hjalti, ‘not against one, but against all of them, for I cannot get frightened though there is an overwhelming strength against me, and not one of them shall scare me.’ The Berserks first walked up the hall, and saw that the champions of Hrólf had increased in number since they left. They looked carefully at the new men, and thought that one of them was no small man, and it is told that the one who walked foremost was a little startled. They went as they used before King Hrólf, and asked him the customary question; he answered what he thought fit, as he was wont. They walked up to every man in the hall, and last up to the comrades (Bödvar and Hjalti); the foremost one then asked Bödvar if he thought himself his equal. Bödvar said he thought himself not equal, but superior to him in anything they might try; that foul son of a mare should not treat him like a sow. He jumped up at the Berserk who was in full war dress, and threw him down so strongly that he came near breaking his bones; Hjalti did the same, so that a great tumult arose in the hall, and the king saw that a great loss was likely to take place if his men were to be killed. He rushed from his high seat to Bödvar, and asked him to take it all in a quiet and friendly manner. Bödvar said the Berserk should lose his life unless he acknowledged himself to be a lesser man than he. The king said that would be easily done, and allowed the Berserks to rise to their feet. Hjalti did the same after the king’s order. Every man sat down in his seat, and the Berserks likewise in theirs with grief in their mind. The king spoke long to them, and told them that now they might see that no one was so great, strong, or renowned but that he might find his equal, and said: ‘I forbid you to cause any trouble in my hall, and if you do not obey that you will forfeit your lives; be as fierce as you can when I fight my enemies, and thus win fame and renown to yourself. Now I have so chosen champions that I need not depend upon you. All agreed with the king’s words and were fully reconciled. They were then seated thus that Bödvar was most honoured. He sat next to the king on the right hand; at his side sat Hjalti the Bold-minded, which name the king gave him.... Bödvar was so highly honoured by King Hrólf that he married his only daughter Drifa” (Hrólf Kraki’s Saga, c. 37).
“Thereafter King Adils had his hall cleaned; the dead men were carried out, for many of Adils’ men were slain and wounded. He said: ‘Now we will make long fires (on the floor) for our friends, and treat well such men as they are. Now men were put to kindle the fire. Hrólf’s champions always sat with their weapons, and never let hold of them. The fire was soon burning, for pitch and dry fire-wood was not spared. King Adils seated himself and his hirdmen on the one side of the fire, and Hrólf Kraki and his champions opposite. They sat on long benches, and spoke very friendly together. King Adils said: ‘The bravery and hardihood of the champions of Hrólf is not exaggerated; you think yourself better than others, and no lies have been told about your strength; now increase the fire, for I do not see distinctly where the king is, and though you may be warmed somewhat you will not flee from the fire.’ This was done. He wanted to see where King Hrólf was, for he knew that he could not stand the heat as well as the champions, and thought he would get at him more easily when he knew where he was, for truly he wanted to slay him. Bödvar and others saw this and sheltered him from the heat as well as they could, but not in the way that he could be known. As the fire advanced very rapidly King Hrólf remembered the vow he had made neither to flee from fire nor iron weapons; he saw that King Adils tried to burn them or let them break their vow. They saw that Adils’ seat had moved (of itself) to the door of the hall, and also those of his men. The fire advanced fast and they saw they would get burnt if they stayed. Their clothes were much scorched, and they threw their shields on the fire. Bödvar and Svipdag said: ‘Now let us increase the fire at Adils’ burg (hall). Each of them took one of the men who had kept up the fires and flung them into them, and said: ‘Now warm yourselves at it for your work and toil; we have got warmth enough; now warm yourselves, as you were so busy for a while to make fire for us. Hjalti took the third one and flung him into it where he sat, and then he did the same with all those who kept up the fires, and they were burnt to ashes, and not helped, for no one dared to come so near. When they had done this King Hrólf said: ‘He flees not the fire who jumps (leaps) over it.’ Then they all leapt (on their shields) over the fire, and wanted to take King Adils. When he saw this he saved his life, and ran to the tree which stood in the hall, and was hollow inside, and thus he got out with witchcraft and sorcery. He came into the hall of Queen Yrsa and talked to her, and she received him disgracefully, and spoke many big words to him: ‘Thou first didst slay my husband Helgi, and betray him and keepest the property from its owner, and besides this thou wantest to slay my son, and thou art much crueller and worse than any other; now I will in every way help Hrólf to get the property, and thou wilt get shame as thou deservest.’ Adils answered: ‘Here neither will trust the other, and hereafter I shall not come before their eyes.’ Thereupon they ceased to talk” (Hrólf Kraki’s Saga, c. 41).
In those days of incessant warfare, the life of the warrior was a magnificent drama from the beginning to the end; his death the closing of a grand career; and his entrance into Valhalla the reward for a life of bravery, in which he showed entire disregard of death, and in which he often exhibited the highest qualities of manhood. As he saw life ebbing away he sang the deeds he had accomplished, and when his eye became dim, and darkness was for ever to close from him the light of the sun, he could hear resounding in his ears the lay of the scald recounting the deeds of his life.
No other literature that has come down to us from ancient times describes so vividly and minutely as that of the North the deeds of the grand heroes of old. We can imagine ourselves on the battle-field, can hear the clatter of arms, and the whistling of arrows and spears, the blows resounding against helmet, shield, or coat-of-mail, and the fierce onslaught; and see before our eyes the boarding of vessels and the carnage on deck.
In the Sagas which speak of the earliest times we find a magnanimous and chivalrous spirit, for the contest had to be equal, ship against ship, man against man. In a great battle chief was against chief, champion against champion, while the combatants of both sides were looking on, and he who was successful had to fight with the rest, himself at last falling mortally wounded, or standing victorious over all. In these deadly fights, more than anywhere else, do we see this cool daring and courage of the hardy Norsemen, men looking death in the face calmly and unflinchingly, feeling that it was better to die with honour or fame than live with shame, as is so often told in the Sagas; for it is only towards later times that we see the decay of this spirit of chivalry.