CHAPTER VII

IVAR’S FIRST EXPEDITION

WHILE in Dampstadir Ivar attained his eighteenth year, and had reached

that age when all young men went upon warlike expeditions when the

opportunity was offered them, and great warriors and powerful chiefs

would have no one younger than this age on board of their ships. Some

days after his eighteenth birthday, Hjorvard, who was seated on the

mound of his father, sent for Ivar, and after he had arrived he said to

him: “From thy grandfather’s mound, upon which we are, and whose deeds

of valor are known all over the northern lands, and are recited by the

poets, and will continue to be until the end of time, thou seest

surrounding us the graves of many of thy kinsmen who have also gone to

Valhalla. Each of them died valiantly. Among them I want to teach thee

the same precepts of wisdom which my father counselled me to follow when

I was about thy age. I have found them useful during my life, and they

will also be of good service to thee if thou heedest them.”

After a pause he continued: “Kinsman, listen to me. It has been the

custom from immemorial time that sons of chiefs should go to war and

acquire wealth and honor, and that personal property should not be

inherited, nor son get it after his father, but that it should be placed

on the pyre and in the mound with themselves. Though their sons get the

land and estates, they cannot hold their rank and dignity, unless they

place themselves and their men in danger and go to war, earning thus

property and honors one after another, and thus following in the

footsteps of their kinsmen.

“Seek fame and renown in good deeds, for these never die, and will be

remembered by the sons of men until the end of time. Many a man, since

Odin created the world, has spent his life in getting wealth, and, to

obtain it, has become miserly. Their hearts only delight in the sight of

gold. But not one of these is remembered by mankind; their names and

their wealth have passed away, but the names of great scalds, and of the

men who have accomplished great deeds, will live forever, though the

Nornir have shaped their lives so that they be poor, and die in poverty.

So, my son, be lavish with thy wealth and with the tributes that will be

paid to thee by those thou hast conquered. Be rich in good deeds.

Liberal and valiant men live best, but the unwise fear everything. A

more faithful friend will a man never get than sound good sense.

“After a man has been wounded and lies helpless under thy blow on the

ground, I need not tell thee, for thy manhood tells it to thee, not to

inflict another wound on him, for then it is murder. If thou diest in

the fight, it is because Odin has chosen thee to go to him. If thou art

victorious, it is because he has given thee victory; both alternatives

are good. Gladsheim is the home of the glad; there the gleaming

Valhalla, or the ‘Hall of the Slain,’ stands, and Odin chooses, every

day, men slain by weapons. That hall is easily recognized by those who

come there, for it is roofed with shafts, and thatched with shields; the

benches are covered with chain-armor; it has five hundred and forty

doors; and eight hundred ‘einherjar,’ for so are called the chosen, pass

through it at once. A wolf hangs over the main entrance of Valhalla. Try

to be more welcome there than any chief that has reddened the sax and

carried far and wide the bloody blade; enter Valhalla bespattered with

blood. Odin gives victory to his sons, wealth to some, eloquence and

wisdom to a few, songs to poets, luck in love to many, chosen weapons to

those he loves, and fair winds to mariners. It is time for thee to go to

war, and thus become worthy of thy ancestors and be their equal in fame.

“If thou obtainest renown, be not vain and boastful, for fame is given

to thee by the people, and why shouldst thou be proud towards the giver?

A quiet demeanor never hurts a man, while people laugh at those who are

puffed up in their own pride. Many a man is made a fool by success. The

high-born and famous should never be proud.”

After saying this, Hjorvard presented Ivar with the sword Angrvadil. It

was a superb damascened weapon, with a hilt ornamented with gold. Its

scabbard was almost covered with gold. It was celebrated all over the

North on account of its quality, and was called by the poets, “Odin’s

flame,” the “gleam of battle,” the “injurer of shields,” the “leader of

victory.”

When Ivar had inspected and admired it, his father continued: “Angrvadil

has been with our kin for generations, and it is as good to-day as in

the days of yore. Thy grandfather and myself have gone into sixty

battles with it, and it has gained the victory each time, and it has

never been dulled. Never let Angrvadil go out of our family, for

misfortune will overtake our kin if it does not remain in the possession

of our kinsmen. It will help thee also in duels; courage is in its

blade, terror in its point, and luck in its hilt. This sword is

infallible,” added Hjorvard, pointing to the mystic letters of gold

inlaid on the blade near the hilt. “It is death to the one who is

wounded by it. Hrotti, my own sword, thou wilt use after my death.”

Ivar thanked his father, and said that his gift pleased him better than

if it had been gold in abundance, or large estates, and added he did not

know what the Nornir had fated him, but that he hoped to die in the

midst of victory. He thanked his father, too, for the good counsel he

had always given him, and above all for the great love he had shown

towards him; and, with great warmth of feeling, added that he would try

to emulate him in all his actions, and hoped that none of his kinsmen in

Valhalla would ever be ashamed of him.

After leaving his father he went to his mother, and said to her: “I want

thee, mother, to show me the cloaks which Heid, the sybil, made for my

father a long time ago.”

Sigrlin opened a large chest and answered: “Here they are, and they are

almost as good as new.”

Ivar took them up. They were with sleeves, and a hood at the top, with a

covering for the face; they were wide and long; it was believed that no

iron could cut them, and that weapons could not damage them, for they

had been made with cunning, witchcraft, and incantations. Ivar took the

two which were the largest. Then he went to Hringstadir to see the halls

and estate which his father had given him the day that he had “fastened”

the name of Ivar upon him.

Ivar remembered all that his father had said to him, and was anxious to

obtain renown and wealth, and so he and his foster-brother went one

morning to Hjorvard and said: “Now tell us, father, of the Viking whom

thou knowest to be the bravest and strongest.”

Hjorvard replied: “You are young men, yet you seem to think that no man

can withstand you. But I will tell you of two Vikings of whom I know.

They are called Sigurd and Sigmund; they are skilled in many things, and

very great warriors.”

“How many ships have they?” asked Ivar.

“They have thirty ships,” replied Hjorvard, “and one hundred and twenty

men on each ship.”

“Where have they land?” inquired Hjalmar.

“In the southern part of Svithjod,” replied Hjorvard. “They are on land

in winter, and lie on board their warships in summer.”

“We will go and try to find where they are, and fight them,” cried both

foster-brothers at the same time. “And we will see who are the foremost

Vikings and champions in the land.”

The day after this conversation the champions of Hjorvard returned with

a great deal of booty they had won in the countries subject to Rome, and

Hjorvard asked some of them to join his son and Hjalmar. “For,” said he,

“they are still inexperienced in the art of war.”

The foster-brothers at once set to work to make their fleet ready, which

did not take long, for the vessels had been subjected to a thorough

overhauling during the winter. The Elidi had been fitted up very

splendidly, and Ivar placed on board his body-guard and berserks; the

prow defenders were most carefully selected, for they were to defend his

standard. The whole of the crew were berserks, who surpassed others in

strength and bravery. Picked men were also stationed at the stern, and

the number on board was two hundred and forty. Ivar’s foster-brother

Hjalmar had also a picked crew, among them skilful archers and sling

men, who had not their equal in the land. The standard of Ivar, which

his foster-mother had made for him, floated on board of the Elidi, and

Hjalmar’s on board the Trani.

Two days before the sailing of the fleet of the foster-brothers, Ivar

came to his father, and said to him: “Tell me, father, some of the omens

that thou thinkest might be useful to men who go to wage war.”

Hjorvard answered: “Many warnings are useful if men know them and heed

them. The following of the black raven is good for a warrior, for it

means victory. No man should fight against the late shining sun, sister

of the moon. There is danger for thee if thou stumblest or fallest from

thy horse when thou rushest into fight, for faithless family spirits

stand on either side of thee. If thou walkest out, and art prepared for

a journey, and meet on the path men ready to praise thee, and hear

wolves under ash trees, good luck wilt thou get if thou seest the wolves

ahead of thee. Those are a few of the omens that should be a warning to

thee. I want also to give thee some other advice,” he continued. “Wisdom

and weapons are not easy to get for the chief that would be the foremost

among men. The sons of men need often eyes of foresight in the fight.

Early should he rise who wishes to acquire wealth. Seldom does a sleepy

wolf get a thigh bone, or a sleepy man victory. Courage is better than

the power of swords where the angry must fight. I have seen bold men win

victory with a blunt sword. It is better for the bold than for the

coward to be in the battle—the game of the Valkyrias. Silent and

thoughtful, and bold in battle, should a Hersir’s son be. The unwise man

thinks he will live forever if he shuns fight, but old age gives him no

peace, though spears may spare him.” After this they separated.

When the foster-brothers were ready to sail, Hjorvard walked down with

them to their ships, and bade them farewell lovingly. They sailed away

from Dampstadir with a fair wind, and with their sails set, but after a

while it became calm, and the vessels had to be propelled by oars. As

they were losing sight of land, a crow flew over the ships with loud

caws. Ivar looked at it.

Hjalmar said to his foster-brother, “Does it mean anything to thee?”

“It does,” answered Ivar.

Another crow flew over the ship, cawing also. Hjalmar forgot to row, and

his oar got loose in his hand.

Ivar said: “Thou art very attentive to the crow; what does it say?”

“I do not know, for I have some difficulty in understanding them.”

Another crow passed over the boat, cawing louder than the two others,

and flying nearer the ships. Then Ivar observed: “This signifies much to

us. I understand that we will be victorious in our expeditions against

the Vikings, for, as my father said to me, the following of the raven is

a good omen.”

Finally they sighted the coast of Svithjod, and came to a long and

somewhat high promontory and they cast anchor there. Afterwards they put

tents upon their ships for the night. The lamps were lighted, and the

men, to pass away the time before they went to sleep, played chess; the

chess-board used on board of vessels had a hole in each square, and each

piece a peg to make it fast, so that the rolling of the ship could not

upset the game. When tired, they put themselves into their leather bags

and went to sleep.

The following morning Ivar went ashore to see if he could discover aught

or hear any news, but he saw no houses or people. After walking a while

across the promontory, he observed thirty ships lying at anchor and war

tents near the beach. The crew was ashore and engaged in practising

athletic games; some were wrestling, others were running and jumping,

and many were performing warlike exercises with swords and spears, and

shooting at targets with arrows.

Sigmund and Sigurd steered these ships, that is, were their commanders;

and these two men were the very Vikings whom Hjorvard had mentioned to

Ivar and his foster-brother.

Ivar immediately returned to his ships, and told the great news to

Hjalmar and his men.

“What shall we do next?” thereupon asked Hjalmar.

“We will divide our men and our ships,” Ivar answered, “into two equal

squadrons. Thou, Hjalmar, shalt with half the ships pass the cape and

raise a battle cry against those who are on shore, and hoist the red

shield. I will land from this side with two-thirds of my crew, go along

the forest, and with them raise another battle cry. Then perhaps they

may be startled by our appearance, and conclude to retire into the

forest, and nothing further happen.”

Hjalmar rounded the cape with his ships, and Ivar landed with his men,

and the plan suggested by Ivar was carried out. Sigmund and Sigurd and

their men, however, were not in the least startled when they heard the

battle cry of Hjalmar at sea, and another battle cry on land. They

stopped their games while the shout lasted, and then continued as

before. Hjalmar then went ashore to meet Ivar, and after they met, Ivar

said: “I know not for certain whether these men are afraid or not, for

they do not seem to mind our war cry.”

“What will you have us do?” inquired Hjalmar.

“That is soon told,” replied Ivar; “we will not steal upon them; we will

stay this night at the cape and remain there until morning.”

When morning came, the foster-brothers landed with all their men, and

marched towards Sigurd and Sigmund, who had all their men armed and in

readiness for a conflict.

When Sigurd and Sigmund saw Hjalmar and Ivar coming towards them, they

went to meet them. Sigurd was high-born and a very great Viking; he had

travelled far and wide, and seen countries that were unknown to most

people; he was short of stature, and had attained the meridian of life;

gray hair was beginning to show itself; he was the oldest of the four

chiefs.

Sigmund was also high-born, younger than Sigurd, but older than Ivar and

Hjalmar. Sigurd asked, when they met, who was their leader. Ivar

answered: “There is more than one chief here.”

“What is thy name?” asked Sigmund.

“My name is Ivar, son of Hjorvard of Dampstadir; and my foster-brother

is Hjalmar, son of Gudbrand of Engel.”

“What is your errand here?” said Sigurd.

Ivar answered: “I wish to know which of us is the more powerful.”

“How many ships have you?” asked Sigurd.

“We have twenty ships,” said Ivar. “And how many have you?”

“We have thirty ships,” answered Sigurd.

“That is great odds against us,” said Ivar.

“Ten ships’ crews shall not take part in the battle,” replied Sigurd,

“and man shall fight against man.”

“This is fair,” answered Ivar, “and it is the law of valiant men.”

Both sides arrayed their men and made themselves ready for the conflict,

which was speedily begun, and continued all day. Towards night the peace

shield was raised, and Sigurd asked Ivar, “What thinkest thou of this

day’s conflict?”

Ivar answered, “I am well pleased.”

“Wilt thou play the game again?” asked Sigurd.

“That is my intention,” replied Ivar, “for I never found better and

hardier champions. We will begin the battle again at full daylight.”

The men then went to their war booths and dressed their wounds.

The next morning both sides arrayed their men for the battle, and fought

all day. When it began to grow dark, the peace shield was again raised.

Sigurd asked Ivar how the fighting pleased him on that day.

“Very well,” was the answer.

“Wilt thou, then,” said Sigurd, “try this game the third day?”

Ivar then replied, “Then we will finish the fight.”

Hearing this, Sigurd, who was a man of great common sense, said to Ivar:

“May we expect much booty on your ships if we gain the victory?”

“Far from it,” Ivar replied; “we have taken none this summer.”

“I think,” said Sigurd, “I have nowhere met more foolish men than here,

for we only fight out of pride and rivalry.”

“What wilt thou do, then?” inquired Ivar.

“Let us become foster-brothers,” replied Sigurd, “for we are of equal

valor.”

“Well said,” answered Ivar and Hjalmar; “for we think it right that we

should bind our friendship, and swear one another foster-brotherhood. It

will be a great boon for us all, as we four will become the greatest

warriors and Vikings of the land.”

The following morning, preparations were made to carry out the proposal

of the preceding afternoon, that Ivar and Hjalmar should become

foster-brothers with Sigmund and Sigurd.

It was a common custom, which had come down from the remotest times,

formally and solemnly to form ties of friendship between men by swearing

one another foster-brotherhood. This relation was of a most sacred and

binding character; those who made the compact pledged themselves to be

unselfish and true to each other for life, and to share the same

dangers.

These four Vikings first cut three long slices of turf in a

semi-circular shape, the ends of which were fastened into the ground,

and the loops raised so high that those who were to swear

foster-brotherhood could go under them. Under these loops, they placed a

spear inlaid with mystic signs, of such a height that a man could reach

with his hand the nail fastening the socket of the spear-point to the

handle.

The warriors on both sides had assembled to witness the ceremony. It was

a beautiful summer day; the sun shone brilliantly, nature was smiling,

birds were singing in the groves, butterflies and bees were flitting

from wild flower to wild flower; no one could ever dream of the fierce

conflict of the preceding days.

In the midst of profound silence, Sigurd advanced towards Ivar and the

three other Vikings, and said to them: “You are aware that from

immemorial time, it has been the custom of valiant men, who make this

agreement of foster-brotherhood between themselves, that the one that

lives the longest should avenge the others, if they are slain with

weapons or otherwise.”

“Yes,” answered Ivar, Hjalmar, and Sigmund.

Then they prepared themselves for the oath of foster-brotherhood, which

was sacredly binding, although not taken on the temple ring as oaths

generally were. Sigurd, Hjalmar, Sigmund, and Ivar then passed under the

loop, and drew blood from the hollow of their hands, and let it run

together into the mould which had been cut under the loop of the turf,

and mixed together the earth and the blood; thereupon they all fell on

their knees, and took oaths to ratify their agreement, and called upon

Odin, Frey, Njord, and the other gods as witnesses; and then they all

clasped hands, according to ancient custom, as a seal to their oaths.

The four foster-brothers agreed that they would never rob traders and

Bondi or other men, except when they must make a raid on land for their

men in case of need, in which case they were to pay full value for what

they took. Never were they to rob women, though they should find them

temptingly rich, nor should women be brought on board their ships

against their will; and should a woman show that this had been done

against her will, the man of the crew found guilty of such a crime

against this law should lose his life for it, whether he were powerful

or not.

It was also agreed that they should possess in common the booty they

might get on Viking expeditions, and that whichever lived the longest

should have a mound raised over the others after the battle or

otherwise, and place therein as much property as seemed to him most

befitting their rank.

And be it told now, that to their death they loved each other dearly,

and never violated in the slightest manner the duties that were imposed

upon them by their compact of foster-brotherhood.

The first thing the four foster-brothers concluded to do in concert,

after consultation, was to visit Gudmund, Sigurd’s father, who was a

powerful Hersir, and ruled over the large island, called to-day Oland,

near the coast of the present Sweden, and to apprise him of their new

relationship. They set sail, and after a short and pleasant voyage,

their ships cast anchor in a bay where to-day the quiet little town of

Borgholm stands. At that time Gudmund’s burg stood there, and near by

are still seen many graves and mounds of that period.

The foster-brothers were received with great kindness, and there was

great drinking and feasting. Ivar was seated in the second high seat

during their visit. After a stay of a week, they made their ships ready,

intending to sail southward and visit Gudbrand to apprise him also of

their new relationship. When the time came for them to depart, Gudmund

followed them to the ships, and as they were ready to embark, presented

Sigurd with three arrows which had a famous name, and were called Gusi’s

Followers. The feathers were gilded, and they were ornamented with gold.

“These arrows,” said Gudmund, “Ketil Hœng, thy great-great-grandfather,

took from Gusi, who ruled over the Fins; they hit and bite everything

they are aimed at, and were forged in the days of old by Dvergars.”

Sigurd thanked his father, saying: “No gifts have I which I prize more

highly,” after which they sailed away. Soon they came to a beautiful

bay, on the shore of which were seen very many very ancient cairns, near

where to-day the little sleepy town of Cimbrisham is to be seen. These

graves were filled with beautiful bronze weapons and many gold objects.

They landed and found the place in great commotion, for a trial by

ordeal was to take place. A bond-woman named Hjerka had told Vemund, the

Hersir who ruled there, that she had seen Gunvor, his wife, and a man of

the herad walk together. Vemund was no longer merry after he heard this,

for he loved his wife dearly, but he wished to be sure that what the

bond-woman had said was true, before he took steps to avenge himself.

But he had not thus far succeeded, and no one was ever seen with his

wife. Nevertheless his jealousy preyed upon him, and one day as he was

speaking to her, his sadness was so marked in his countenance that she

asked the reason why. Then he told her that he thought she loved

another.

Upon hearing this, she was struck speechless with indignation. Her eyes

flashed fire, her pure heart revolted against such an accusation or

insinuation, her face turned pale and flushed alternately; then a sudden

look of despair, of intense pain and sorrow, followed her looks of

anger. Was it possible that her husband could believe such a tale?

Then she said to him: “I will take oaths before thee and many men, upon

the white holy stone, that I have not acted with anyone as thou seemest

to believe. Send for Halfdan, the ruler of Zeeland, that he may

consecrate the boiling caldron.”

The foster-brothers were just in time to witness the trial. Halfdan was

sent for, and in the presence of hundreds of witnesses who had come to

see the ordeal, he consecrated with the sign of the hammer of Thor the

caldron before the water was boiling, and the holy white stone used for

such an ordeal.

Then Gunvor said with a loud voice, heard through the hall by those

present, “I cannot call on my brothers to avenge such an accusation with

the sword, for they are all dead. Look now, men, I am truthful. See how

the water boils. Let Herkja go to the cauldron, she who attributes

treachery to me.”

Herkja put her hand into the cauldron to take the sacred stone, and no

one could witness a more pitiful sight than those who beheld how the

hands of Herkja were scalded. When the people saw this, they said that

Herkja was guilty of false accusation and perjury, and they led the maid

into a foul mire, where she met her death.

The following day, Knut, an uncle of Sigurd, who had become very old,

felt that his last days were approaching; and as there was universal

peace, he could not fall on the battle-field, and so go valiantly to

Valhalla, as all warriors did who died fighting the foe. He determined,

nevertheless, that he would not die in his bed, for he did not wish to

go to Hel. It was the belief of the Norsemen, that those who had not

fallen by weapons went to Hel. Hel was one of nine worlds that composed

the universe, but in that Hel there was no punishment. So he called his

family together, and divided among them his gold and silver and other

valuable things, and then told them that he was going to throw himself

from a high cliff, for all who did this were believed to go to Valhalla.

His family followed him cheerfully, and as he was on the brink of the

precipice whence not infrequently men threw themselves down, they bade

him a happy journey to Valhalla, and he took forthwith the fatal plunge.

A large mound was raised over him, and all the people extolled his

courageous deed.

After witnessing the ordeal, and the death of Knut, the four

foster-brothers continued their voyage, skirting the shores of the

peninsula, passing several beautiful burgs and estates. Several days

afterwards, they cast anchor at the mouth of a river almost opposite the

island of Engel, for they did not stop at Hrafnista, as Gudbrand and

Sigrlin had gone on a visit north, to friends who lived on the shores of

the present Christiania fjord.

There ruled a valiant Hersir, named Gautrek the Old, who in his day had

been a foremost Viking, but on account of his age had given up warfare.

He had nine sons by Alvig the Wise, daughter of Eyvind of Holmgard. They

were called Thengil, Ræsir, Gram, Gylfi, Hilmir, Jofur, Tyggi, Skuli,

Harri. These nine brothers became so famous in warfare, that in all

songs their names are used as names of rank. All fell in battle, having

never married.

A great feast was prepared for Ivar, his foster-brothers and his men.

Gautrek had a beautiful daughter of the name of Svanhild, and after the

guests had been seated, she entered the hall with several maidens, and

advanced to the high seat which Ivar occupied, opposite to that of her

father; she handed to him a drinking horn of gold, filled up with mead,

and said: “Hail to thee, Ivar, son of Hjorvard! Hail to you all, ye

warriors that have come with him!” Then she seated herself by her

father.

There was great feasting and drinking during the time they remained with

Gautrek, and after a stay of three days, which was the accustomed time

for a visit of that kind, Ivar left the place with his fleet, and

continued to sail northward. A short summer gale sprang up; during the

time it lasted, the Elidi was ahead of all the other ships, for she was

very swift, and but few vessels were her equal in speed in the whole

northern land. The fleet got shelter behind the numerous islands that

line the coast, and made ready to enter the stream which is now known as

the Hams river, upon which the town of Hamstad is situated, in the

province called to-day by the name of Halland. The peace shields were

hoisted at the mastheads, and shields were placed all along the

gunwales, and the dragons of red gold shone resplendently in the light

of the sun.

Arnfid Hersir ruled over the country. When the ships cast anchor, he was

seated on the mound of his father, which overlooked the river and the

sea. It was his custom to sit there and hunt with his hawks; these

brought him from time to time a hare, black cock, or a partridge. He

recognized the Elidi by its pennant, and knew that its commander was

Ivar, the son of Hjorvard “the wide spreading,” one of his companions in

arms and foster-brother. The ships often disappeared from his sight on

account of the bends in the river, which were covered with forests, but

finally they cast anchor below the burg or residence of Arnfid.

Arnfid sent messengers to invite Ivar and his foster-brothers and their

men to come ashore, as the Gotlanders had never ravaged his realm. The

invitation was accepted.

Ivar thereupon addressed his friends and followers in this wise: “Let us

beware of drinking too much. A man carries on the road no better burden

than sound wit and common sense. Wisdom is needed by him who travels

widely. No provisions on a journey weigh a man to the ground more than

too much ale. The ale of the sons of men is not so good as men say it

is, for the more a man drinks the less wit he has. The spirit that

hovers over ale-bouts is called the ‘heron of oblivion;’ it steals away

men’s senses. The ale is best when every man gets his reason back.

Strife and ale have caused grief of mind to many men; death to some,

curses to others. Many are the evils of mankind. Thou shalt not quarrel

with drunken men. Many an one’s wits wine steals. Nevertheless, a man

may not send away the cup, but drink moderately.”

Ivar and his men dressed themselves in their best and went ashore, when

they were immediately led to the banqueting hall, where a great feast

was prepared in the honor of Ivar and of his foster-brothers and their

following. Arnfid was seated in his high seat and welcomed his guests;

he bade Ivar to sit in the high seat opposite his.

Arnfid had a daughter celebrated for her beauty and accomplishments; her

name was Ingegerd, and before the feast had begun, she came to the hall

with several handsome maidens who were visiting her. They were

beautifully attired. Ingegerd herself wore a red dress of thick woollen

material, lavishly embroidered with gold. The material had been brought

to her by her father on his return from a voyage to the Caspian. The

train, several feet in length, swept gracefully on the floor. Her hair

was braided and fell over her shoulders gracefully, as was the custom

with young maidens. A beautiful gold band encircled her forehead. Round

her snowy neck hung a necklace of delicate gold beads. Her tall and

slender form was made to appear still more graceful by a belt of gold of

exquisite workmanship that encircled her waist. Her arms were adorned by

two delicate spiral gold bracelets, and on one of the fingers of her

right hand was a spiral ring ending in snakes’ heads, that had belonged

to her mother.

Before the meal was served, Arnfid announced that seats were about to be

allotted; that men and women might drink together as many as could, and

that men without companions should drink by themselves. So they placed

lots in a cloth, each with the name of a guest written upon it. Arnfid

was to pick them out. The lot fell that Ivar should drink with Ingegerd

and sit next to her that evening.

When ready to sit down, Ingegerd sang haughtily to Ivar: “What wilt thou

do, lad, in my seat? For seldom, if ever, hast thou given a wolf warm

flesh, nor hast thou seen the raven croak over the battle-field; neither

hast thou been where swords meet and where Valkyrias soar over the

fallen.”

These words meant that Ivar had never been in battle, so that neither

wolf nor raven nor Valkyrias had followed him; and if this was so, he

was not worthy to sit by her side.

Ivar looked at her beautiful and proud face, and sang: “I have handled

the bloody blade, the ravens have followed my track; I have made warfare

and been the champion in many games of strength and skill. Be not so

proud, maiden; like thyself, I am of Odin’s kin. The son of Hjorvard

follows in the footsteps of his father.”

When Ingegerd heard these words she smiled, looking at him, and seated

herself by his side, and they drank together and were merry. Many a

maiden was seated by the side of brave and mighty champions that day—men

who had seen many lands. There was nothing in the world which these

Norse women appreciated more than personal bravery, and none but the

very bravest could aspire to the hand of those of high lineage. Wine,

ale, beer, and mead were served in drinking cups of glass from Greece,

or in silver cups of great beauty, with _repoussé_ work of gold,

representing panther chasing deer, and horses running away. These also

had come from the Black Sea, where the Greeks had colonies.

The food was served in silver dishes containing roast pork, veal, birds,

and fish. Two sorts of bread were on the table—one kind soft and made of

rye; the other flat, almost as thin as wafers, the same kind as is

served in Norway to-day.

When the men had begun to be somewhat too merry for the presence of

women, Ingegerd and the maidens who had come with her to the feast rose

and left the hall, bidding all good-night. But that night Ingegerd

herself could not sleep. Her thoughts were always reverting to Ivar,

and, without knowing it, she loved him; or, perhaps, her feeling was

infatuation rather than love.

Therefore, the next day she prepared the drink of oblivion for Ivar, to

cause him to forget the girl he loved—in case he did love another—and

sent her maid-servant to invite him to her bower. She had prepared the

draught with many incantations and according to a mystic formula. It was

of ice-cold sea water, sacrificed blood, a long ling fish, an unripened

wheat ear, sacrificed intestine of beast, herbs of every forest, burned

acorns, the soot of the hearth, a boiled swine liver, to which were

added all kinds of mystic runic letters painted red. After Ivar had come

she bade him drink, which he did, but whether it was an efficacious

potion or not could not be proven, as he had no sweetheart to forget.

On the third day the foster-brothers made ready to leave. Arnfid wanted

them to stay longer, but Ivar said to him: “One should take leave in

good time. The guest should not remain too long; the loved one often

becomes loathed by staying over many days.”

So they parted in great friendship. Arnfid gave Ivar a handsome sword,

with hilt and scabbard ornamented with gold; also an axe inlaid with

gold, of very fine workmanship, and costly presents to his

foster-brothers and men. Ivar gave also costly presents to Arnfid and

his men.

Ingegerd, from her bower, with a heavy heart, watched the ships sailing

away, and wondered if she would ever see Ivar again. But, as is often

the case among the sons and daughters of men, Ivar and Ingegerd were

never to meet again. The Nornir had parted them that day for life, and

were to prevent them from continuing the courtship that was written in

runic letters of gold upon the heart of Ingegerd. The memory of the

hours passed between Ivar and her was all that was to be left. It was

but a dream, but how lovely and short was that dream! Love had germed

and grown up in three days, but it was doomed to perish, though that

episode of their lives was never to be forgotten. Yet Ingegerd married,

and many a time during her life her thoughts wandered back to the days

we have just spoken of. She thought it was wrong to think of them, but

we have no command over our thoughts; they will come unawares in spite

of our will, and the memory of the past will cling to us until death.

How wise it is that no one can read our thoughts! For if it were

otherwise, how many happy homes might be made unhappy indeed!

The foster-brothers, after leaving Arnfid, stopped at Engelholm,

Gudbrand and Sigrid having returned. There was great joy in Hrafnista on

their arrival. Hjalmar was to remain at home that winter.

Ivar sailed to Dampstadir with Sigurd and Sigmund, for he wanted his

father to know his two new foster-brothers. They were to spend the

winter with him, and all were to meet again the following spring.

Hjorvard and Sigrid were on the shore to meet their son. They had heard

of his two new foster-brothers, for Ivar had written them about the

fight they had had, and what had followed, and gave them a hearty

welcome to Dampstadir.

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Ivar the Viking A romantic history based upon authentic facts of the third and fourth centuries · 第 7 / 31 章