Olaf the Glorious: A Story of the Viking Age

by Robert Leighton

Now Thorir had charged Olaf not to reveal his true name to any man until he should be safe in Norway and sure of his success. Accordingly the islanders regarded him as a brave viking and nothing more. Nevertheless, they gathered round him, saying that they were ready and willing to follow him across the sea and to help him to drive Earl Hakon to his deserved doom. To test their fidelity Olaf summoned a great meeting of the folk and called one of their jarls before him. Few words were spoken before Olaf, to the surprise of all present, declared that the jarl must let himself be christened or that there and then he should die.

"If you and your people refuse to be baptized," Olaf said, "then I will fare through the isles with fire and sword, and I will lay waste the whole land!"

Thorir Klakka laughed to himself at hearing this bold threat, and he thought how ill it would go with any man who should attempt such a thing in Norway.

But there was something in Olaf Triggvison's nature which compelled obedience. The Orkney jarl saw well that the threat was made in serious earnest, and he chose to be christened.

Now this meeting of the islanders was held on the margin of one of the lakes, where stood the heathen temple which Olaf himself had helped to build. And now he had his men pull down this temple to the ground, so that not a stone of it remained standing in its place. Having thus made a semblance of banishing the old faith in Odin and Thor, he set about teaching the greater faith in Christ. He had in his company a certain priest named Thangbrand, a mighty man who could wield the sword as well as any viking, and whose voice was as the sound of thunder. Thangbrand stood up to his knees in the lake, and as the people came out to him, one by one, he sprinkled them with water and made upon them the sign of the cross. Thus were all the islanders, men, women, and children, made Christians. So when these ceremonies were over, Olaf weighed anchor and sailed out eastward for Norway.

Ill content was Thorir Klakka at seeing with what ease Olaf Triggvison had gained influence over these people, and how ready all men were to follow and obey him. If his power were so strong over men who owed him no allegiance, and who did not even know of his royal birth, how much greater must it be over the people of Norway, whose adherence to the family of Harald Fairhair would give them a double reason for obeying him? If Olaf should ever set foot in Norway and proclaim his real name then it might go far more ill with Hakon of Lade than the earl had supposed, when he sent his friend Thorir across to Ireland. As the ships sailed eastward across the sea Thorir thought this matter over, and it came into his mind that it would be better for Hakon's safety that Olaf Triggvison should never be allowed to reach his intended destination.

On a certain night Olaf stood alone at the forward rail of his ship, looking dreamily out upon the sea. The oars were inboard, and there were but few men about the decks, for a good wind that was blowing from the southwest filled the silken sails and sent the vessel onward with a rush of snowy foam along her deep sides, and there was no work to be done save by the man who stood at the tiller. To the south the sea and sky were dark, but in the northern heavens there was an arch of crimson, flickering light, from which long trembling shafts of a fainter red shot forth into the zenith, casting their ruddy reflections upon the waves. The gaunt, gilded dragon at the prow stood as though bathed in fire, and the burnished gold of Olaf's crested helmet, the rings on his bare arms, the hilt of his sword, and the knitted chains of his coat of mail gleamed and glanced in the red light as though they were studded with gems.

This red light, flashing in the midnight sky, was believed by the Norsemen to be the shining of Thor's beard. But as Olaf Triggvison now looked upon it from his ship's bow, he understood it to be a message of hope sent from Heaven, beckoning him onward to his native land in the north, there to avenge his father's death, to reconquer his realm, and to reign as the first truly Christian King of Norway. And yet as his vessel sailed on, plunging through the dashing foam, with her prow rising and falling within the wide span of that great rosy arch, strange doubts came over him, the old beliefs still lingered in his mind, and he began to think that perhaps his new learning was false, that Thor might after all be supreme in the world, and that this red light in the sky was an evidence of his continued power, a visible defiance of Christ.

Olaf was thinking these thoughts when, above the wailing of the wind and the swishing of the waves, he heard, or fancied he heard, someone walking behind him across the deck. He turned quickly. No one could be seen; but his eyes rested upon the shadow cast by the hilt of his sword upon the boards of the deck. The shadow was in the form of the cross. The sign was prophetic, and in an instant all his doubts vanished.

"Christ is triumphant!" he cried.