"There is witchcraft in thy sword," said he to Frithiof.
So Frithiof threw his sword aside, and they wrestled together, unarmed, until Atlé was brought to the ground.
Then spake Frithiof: "And if I had my sword thou wouldst not long be a living man."
"Fetch it, then," replied Atlé. "I swear by the gods that I will not move until thou dost return."
So Frithiof fetched his sword, but when he saw the conquered viking still upon the ground, he could not bring himself to slay so honorable a man.
"Thou art too true and brave to die," said Frithiof. "Rise, let us be friends."
And the two combatants went hand in hand to the banquet hall of Angantyr, Jarl (earl) of the Orkney Islands.
A splendid hall it was, and a rare company of heroes was there; and all listened eagerly as Frithiof told his story, and wherefore he had come.
"I never paid tribute to King Belé, though he was an old friend of mine," said the jarl, as Frithiof ended his speech, "nor will I to his sons. If they want aught of me, let them come and take it."