The Story of Norway

by Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen

"So great was not the breach, I hope," the king made answer; "take my bow and shoot with that."

He flung his own bow to the archer, who seized it, bent it double, and flung it back. "Too weak is the king's bow," he said.

Earl Erik was now preparing for the final attack, and he could not doubt its result.

King Olaf's men were in a desperate strait, from which no escape was possible. The king flung forth his spears, two at a time, from his station on the poop, and many men were transfixed by his keen shafts. He watched at the same time the combat on the forward deck, whither the earl was just directing his attack, and it seemed to him that his men made no headway.

"Do you wield your swords with so little strength," he cried, "since they bite so poorly?"

"No," answered a warrior; "but our swords are dull and broken."

The king then hastened to the forward deck, where there was a large chest of arms. He opened it and took out armfuls of bright, sharp swords, which he flung to his men. As he stooped down, the blood trickled down over his hands from under his armor. His men then knew that he was wounded, but it was no time then for nursing any one's wounds. The earl's men were storming forward, and the tired Norsemen fell in heaps, and could no longer keep them back. The arrows rained thick and fast about the king, and it was obvious he could not hold out much longer. He was visible to all; for he made no attempt to hide or shelter himself. One of his trusted men, Kolbjörn Stallare, who saw his danger, sprang upon the poop and placed himself at his side. His resemblance to the king had often been remarked upon; moreover, he was of the same height, and was similarly dressed. The storm of missiles was now directed against both, and, as they raised their shields, they were thickly fringed with arrows. The clash of arms, the groans of the dying, and the whizzing of flying missiles, filled the air. The king let his shield drop and looked out over the ship. There were but eight men alive, besides himself and Kolbjörn. He raised the shield above his head and leaped overboard. Kolbjörn followed his example, but was picked up by the earl's men, who mistook him for the king. That the latter was drowned, there can be no reasonable doubt, although there is a legend, which was fondly cherished, that he swam to the galley which Aastrid, Earl Sigvalde's wife, had sent out for his rescue. According to this story, he made a pilgrimage to Rome, and lived long as a hermit in the Holy Land.

King Olaf Tryggvesson was thirty-six years old when he died (1000). Queen Thyra, who, with good reason, held herself responsible for his death, was inconsolable. When she came up on deck, after the battle, and saw the destruction she had wrought she broke into lamentation. Earl Erik was moved by her sorrow and spoke kindly to her, assuring her that if she would return to Norway she would be accorded the honor which was due to her as the widow of so great a king. She thanked him for his offer, but said that she had no heart to survive her lord. On the ninth day after the battle she died.