Olaf the Glorious: A Story of the Viking Age

by Robert Leighton

Now a great surprise was in store for Thorir Klakka. All this time, since his setting out west to Ireland in search of Olaf, he had rested assured that the power of Earl Hakon was unassailable, and that the bonders, or landholders, were not only well disposed towards him, but also ready to stand firmly by him through all dangers. He had intentionally deceived Olaf Triggvison by representing that the earl might easily be overthrown and his subjects as easily won over to the side of a new king. To his great dismay he now discovered that, while telling a wilful untruth, he had all the time been unwittingly representing the actual condition of the country. During the absence of Thorir from Norway, Hakon had committed certain acts which had gained for him the hatred and contempt of the whole nation. The peasants of Thrandheim were united in open rebellion against him; they had sent a war summons through the countryside, and had gathered in great numbers, intending to fall upon the Evil Earl and slay him.

Olaf Triggvison could not, therefore, have chosen a more promising moment for his arrival in the land. He had only to make himself known in order to secure the immediate allegiance and homage of the people.

When Olaf entered the mouth of the fiord with his five longships and anchored off Agdaness, he heard that Earl Hakon was lying with his ships farther up the firth, and also that he was at strife with the bonders. So Olaf made no delay, but weighed anchor again and rowed east into the sunlit fiord. He had not gone very far when, from behind a rocky headland, three vessels of war appeared upon the blue water, rowing out to meet him, with their red battle shields displayed. But suddenly, as they drew nearer to him, they turned about towards the land and fled in all haste. Olaf made no doubt that they were Hakon's ships, so he put extra men to the oars and bade them give chase.

Now the retreating ships were commanded, not by Earl Hakon, but by his favourite son Erland, who had come into the fiord to his father's help against the bonders. When Erland found that he was being pursued a great fear came upon him lest he should be driven farther into the fiord and into the clutches of the bonders, whom he knew to be waiting to give him battle, so when he saw that Olaf was coming close upon him he ran his ships aground, leapt overboard, and straightway made for the shore.

Then Olaf brought his five ships close in upon him and assailed him with arrows, killing many of his men as they swam to land. Olaf saw a man swimming past who was exceedingly fair; so he caught up the tiller, and, taking good aim, flung it at him, striking him on the head. This man was Erland himself, and so he lost his life.

Olaf and his folk took many of the men prisoners and made them take the peace. From them he heard the tidings that Earl Hakon had taken flight and that all his warriors had deserted him.

Now, when this little battle was over, and Erland's ships had been captured, Olaf Triggvison rowed yet farther into the fiord to Trondelag, where all the chieftains and peasants were assembled. Here he went ashore and, dressed in his finest body armour, with his towering gold helmet and his cloak of crimson silk, walked up into the midst of the people, attended only by his friend Kolbiorn Stallare and two guards.

The peasants stared at him amazed, wondering what manner of great man this was who had so suddenly appeared before them. And two of their chieftains went forward to meet him, uncovering their heads. One asked him his name and the reason of his coming.

"Your questions are soon answered," said he; and the clear ring of his voice was heard even by those who stood far apart. "I am come to offer myself to the people of this land, to defend them against all wrong, and to uphold their laws and rights. My name is Olaf. I am the son of King Triggvi Olafson, who was the grandson of King Harald Fairhair."

At hearing these words the whole crowd of people arose with one accord and rent the air with their joyous greetings, for it needed no great proof for them to be assured that he was indeed of the race of the old kings of Norway. Some of the elder men, seeing him, declared that he was surely King Hakon the Good come back to earth again, younger and fairer and nobler than he had been of yore. The young warriors who stood near were lost in admiration of his tall and handsome figure, of his giant strength, his large clear eyes and long golden hair, and they envied him the splendour of his costly armour and beautiful clothing. To follow such a man into battle, they thought, would be worth all the glories of Valhalla.