Yngvi had gathered round him the greatest champions of the Northern lands. When a warrior had achieved great fame and had obtained the championship in any game of strength or dexterity, or was a great berserk, and gained the victory over some celebrated warrior, he made his way to Upsalir, for the Hersir of Svithjod was convivial, liberal, and lavish of his gold to his men. No one had ever repented of serving him, or of following him in battle. Some of the store-houses where his wealth was kept were literally filled with gold and silver, fine swords and beautiful weapons, costly garments and cloaks, and other things, which were to be given away to those who served him faithfully or who came to visit him; for it was the custom never to let the guest depart empty-handed. The best gold-smiths of the land were constantly working for him.

Yngvi, as was customary with great Hersirs, kept always twelve champions. Every one of these was a famous berserk; and the Hersir of Svithjod prided himself on the fact that his champions were the strongest, most agile and skilful warriors in the land, though once in a while a new man would come and show that no one can be best in everything.

It was the custom of the berserks, when they were in Upsalir and came to the hall, first to go and salute Yngvi; then to walk up to every stranger, and ask him if he thought himself their equal; and if any one dared to say that he was, then their anger and eagerness to fight increased.

They began to frown and shout, loudly saying to the man: “Darest thou to fight us? Then thou wilt need more than big words or boasting. We will try how much there is in thee.”

But if Yngvi interposed, saying: “These men are my guests, and have come to see me,” then there was no fighting. Most of them, in time of peace, went about the country and challenged men to fight duels if they would not do their will, or went on expeditions in far-off countries to gather wealth.

It was their custom, when they were only with their own men, and found the berserk fury coming over them, to go away and wrestle with trees or rocks, as I have already said, otherwise they would have slain their friends in their frenzy, for when they were in that state they lost their reason; but in every-day’s life they were not so bad to have intercourse with if they were not offended, though they were most overbearing if their pride or renown were at stake. All of Yngvi’s berserks had drunk of the blood of wolves and eaten of their hearts in order to become fearless, and they had succeeded very well in that respect, for they were feared and dreaded everywhere; but now and then they found a man to be their equal, and they had to admit him to fellowship with them.

They had made a vow never to flee from fire; and it was told of them that one day when they were visiting in the country with Yngvi, the cheer was so good and the drinks were so strong that they fell fast asleep, and then fire was set to the hall by some enemy.

One of the champions woke first, and seeing the hall nearly full of smoke, called out: “Now it will suffocate our hawks,” and then again lay down to sleep.

Then another saw the hall burning, and said: “Wax will now drop from our saxes,” and then lay down again.

But when Yngvi awoke, he rose and roused the warriors, and told them to arm themselves. They then rushed at the walls with such force that the joints of the timbers broke, and then the berserk rage came at once upon them; but those who had set fire to the house had fled, and there was no enemy to fight, so they wrestled with trees and rocks while their berserk fury lasted.

Yngvi thought a great deal of his berserks, and allowed them a great deal of latitude, for he knew that in life one must overlook many things in order to be happy, and he knew their disposition. They, in return, loved him dearly, and everyone was ready to lose his life for him at his bidding; but rulers who had good champions were very shy of risking their lives unnecessarily. One of his favorite champions was Svipdag, and the way he had come to him was this: His father, the Bondi Svip, lived far away from other men; he was wealthy, and had been one of the greatest of champions, and was not at all what he looked like, as he knew many things and was very wise. 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 Yngvi and follow him and his champions, if he will receive us.”

Svip, who wanted to persuade him from doing so, answered: “I do not think this advisable, for his men are jealous and strong.”

Svipdag answered: “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 finally gave him a large axe, and said to his son: “Be not greedy, do not boast, for that gives a bad reputation; but defend thyself if attacked, for a great man should boast little, and behave well in difficulties.”

He also gave him good war accoutrements and a good horse.

Then Svipdag rode, and at night came to Upsalir; he saw that games were taking place outside the hall; Yngvi sat on a large gold chair, and his berserks were near him. When Svipdag came, 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 forced open the gate, and rode into the town.

Then Yngvi 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 Yngvi, and saluted him well, in a skilful manner. Yngvi asked who he was, and he answered: “I am the son of the Bondi Svip.”

Then Yngvi soon recognized him, and every one thought he was a great and high-born champion. The games were continued; Svipdag sat and looked on. The berserks eyed him angrily, and said to Yngvi that they wanted to try him; and Yngvi 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 every one came into the hall, after the games were over, the berserks walked toward Svipdag, and asked him if he was a champion, as he made so much of himself. He answered that he was as great a champion as any of them. At these words their anger and their eagerness to fight increased, but Yngvi told them to be quiet that evening; they began to frown, and howled loudly, and said to Svipdag: “Darest thou to fight us? Then wilt thou need more than thy 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.”

In the morning a great duel began, and there was no lack of heavy blows. The new-comer knew how to use his sword with great strength and skill, and the berserks gave way. Svipdag killed one, and then another wanted to avenge him. Yngvi stopped the fight, and made peace between them, and then he made them swear foster-brotherhood, after which he said to Svipdag: “Great loss hast thou caused me by killing one of my berserks, but I see that thou canst more than fill his place, and henceforth thou will be one of my body-guard.”

But of all his body-guard and men Yngvi valued his scalds the most; they were placed on the second high seat when no strangers were entertained, so that he could see them. One of them was Odun, the Satirist, so named because he only recited and composed satirical songs; he was the oldest bard, and had been the scald of Yngvi’s father. But his greatest scald was Haldor, who was not quick of speech when he spoke in prose, but poetry was very easy to him, and he always answered in verse, and songs flowed from him as fast as he could think. All the scalds of Yngvi were also famous warriors, and while he went into warfare they were always in his shield-burg, looking on and singing the praises of the most valiant one.