Soon after Fridleif was admonished by his people to think about marrying, that he might prolong his line; but he maintained that the unmarried life was best, quoting his father Frode, on whom his wife’s wantonness had brought great dishonour.  At last, yielding to the persistent entreaties of all, he proceeded to send ambassadors to ask for the daughter of Amund, King of Norway.  One of these, named Frok, was swallowed by the waves in mid-voyage, and showed a strange portent at his death.  For when the closing flood of billows encompassed him, blood arose in the midst of the eddy, and the whole face of the sea was steeped with an alien redness, so that the ocean, which a moment before was foaming and white with tempest, was presently swollen with crimson waves, and was seen to wear a colour foreign to its nature.

Around implacably declined to consent to the wishes of the king, and treated the legates shamefully, declaring that he spurned the embassy because the tyranny of Frode had of old borne so heavily upon Norway.  But Amund’s daughter, Frogertha, not only looking to the birth of Fridleif, but also honouring the glory of his deeds, began to upbraid her father, because he scorned a son-in-law whose nobility was perfect, being both sufficient in valour and flawless in birth.  She added that the portentous aspect of the sea, when the waves were suddenly turned into blood, simply and solely signified the defeat of Norway, and was a plain presage of the victory of Denmark.  And when Fridleif sent a further embassy to ask for her, wishing to vanquish the refusal by persistency, Amund was indignant that a petition he had once denied should be obstinately pressed, and hurried the envoys to death, wishing to offer a brutal check to the zeal of this brazen wooer.  Fridleif heard news of this outrage, and summoning Halfdan and Biorn, sailed round Norway.  Amund, equipped with his native defences, put out his fleet against him.  The firth into which both fleets had mustered is called Frokasund.  Here Fridleif left the camp at night to reconnoitre; and, hearing an unusual kind of sound close to him as of brass being beaten, he stood still and looked up, and heard the following song of three swans, who were crying above him: 

“While Hythin sweeps the sea and cleaves the ravening tide, his serf drinks out of gold and licks the cups of milk.  Best is the estate of the slave on whom waits the heir, the king’s son, for their lots are rashly interchanged.”  Next, after the birds had sung, a belt fell from on high, which showed writing to interpret the song.  For while the son of Hythin, the King of Tellemark, was at his boyish play, a giant, assuming the usual appearance of men, had carried him off, and using him as an oarsman (having taken his skiff over to the neighbouring shore), was then sailing past Fridleif while he was occupied reconnoitering.  But the king would not suffer him to use the service of the captive youth, and longed to rob the spoiler of his prey.  The youth warned him that he must first use sharp reviling against the giant, promising that he would prove easy to attack, if only he were assailed with biting verse.  Then Fridleif began thus: