uld accept
death sooner: for he thought that the terms of battle thus offered would
be turned into a reproach to himself. So he engaged hotly with Athisl,
who desirous to fight him in a forbearing fashion, merely thrust lightly
with his blade and struck upon his shield; thus guarding his own safety
with more hardihood than success. When he had done this some while, he
advised him to take his brother to share in his enterprise, and not be
ashamed to ask for the help of another hand, since his unaided efforts
were useless. If he refused, said Athisl, he should not be spared; then
making good his threats, he assailed him with all his might. But Ket
received him with so sturdy a stroke of his sword, that it split the
helmet and forced its way down upon the head. Stung by the wound (for a
stream of blood flowed from his poll), he attacked Ket with a shower of
nimble blows, and drove him to his knees. Wig, leaning more to personal
love than to general usage, (2) could not bear the sight, but made
affection conquer shame, and attacking Athisl, chose rather to defend
the weakness of his brother than to look on at it. But he won more
infamy than glory by the deed. In helping his brother he had violated
the appointed conditions of the duel; and the help that he gave him was
thought more useful than honourable. For on the one scale he inclined to
the side of disgrace, and on the other to that of affection. Thereupon
they perceived themselves that their killing of Athisl had been more
swift than glorious. Yet, not to hide the deed from the common people,
they cut off his head, slung his body on a horse, took it out of the
wood, and handed it over to the dwellers in a village near, announcing
that the sons of Frowin had taken vengeance upon Athisl, King of the
Swedes, for the slaying of their father. Boasting of such a victory as
this, they were received by Wermund with the highest honours; for he
thought they had done a most useful deed, and he preferred to regard
the glory of being rid of a rival with more attention than the infamy of
committing an outrage. Nor did he judge that the killing of a tyrant was
in any wise akin to shame. It passed into a proverb among foreigners,
that the death of the king had broken down the ancient principle of
combat.

When Wermund was losing his sight by infirmity of age, the King of
Saxony, thinking that Denmark lacked a leader, sent envoys ordering him
to surrender to his charge the kingdom which