Very much of this story that Sigurd had told was strangely new to Olaf,
and even the parts that he had before been familiar with came to him
with fresh meaning. He had known all along of his descent from King
Harald Fairhair, but not until now did he fully and clearly understand
that by the death of his father and of all his father's brothers he was
himself at this moment the sole heir to the throne of Norway. Now for
the first time he realized that during all that past time, when he had
been living as a poor and wretched bondslave in Esthonia, he had held
this glorious birthright.
As he lay on his bed that night, thinking over all that he had heard,
he tried to comprehend all that it must mean to him in the future, and
in his own boyish way he made great resolves of how, when the fitting
moment should come, he would sail across the sea, and, landing on the
shores of Norway, tell his people the story of his royal birth and
heritage, so that they might know him and acknowledge him their king,
even as they had acknowledged Hakon the Good. But in the midst of his
dreaming there came to him the remembrance of the crime that he had
just committed, and he began to dread that King Valdemar might hold him
guilty, and order him to be slain.
All through the long night this dread haunted him. He had killed Jarl
Klerkon, and the sense of his own guilt now preyed upon him like a
terrible nightmare. He wondered by what means they would take his life.
Would they smite off his head with a sharp sword or shoot an arrow into
his heart, or would they slowly torture him to death? Perhaps they
would deem him too young to be thus punished by the taking of his life;
but if they spared his life he would none the less be punished, for
they would throw him into the dark prison that he had once seen under
the king's castle, and there they would leave him to languish in chains
for many years, so that his strength would go from him, and he would be
no longer fit to be called a king.
Not for a moment did Olaf think of allowing his Uncle Sigurd to take
the punishment for his crime. He knew that Sigurd had made no idle
offer when he had said that he would give up his life for his sake; but
Sigurd was guiltless, and it would be a coward's act to allow him to
make this sacrifice. With all his newborn hopes burning within him, it
was a hard thing for Olaf to think of death. Nevertheless, before the
night was half spent he had resolved to take whatever punishment should
be meted out to him, and if need be to face even death with a brave
heart.
Early on the next morning he was awakened from his sleep by the touch
of rough hands upon him. His own hands were seized, and heavy chains
were bound upon his wrists and ankles. Then he was taken away and
thrust into a dark cell that was cold, and damp, and airless. No food
was given to him, and very soon the pangs of hunger made him wild and
restless. A sudden dread came upon him that they meant to starve him to
death. But not long had he been imprisoned before the heavy door was
again thrown open, and he was summoned forth. Two men of the king's
bodyguard led him into the great hall, where he was met by a loud
clamour of voices. He looked about him fearlessly at the crowd of
townsfolk and vikings, who were there, as he now well knew, to bear
witness against him and to hear him condemned. As he stood facing them
the vikings broke into fierce cries for speedy vengeance, and he felt
the hot blood rush to his cheeks and brow. His clear blue eyes flashed
in bold challenge as one of the seamen called out aloud:
"Death to him! Death to the slayer of our chief!" Then one of the
king's lawmen demanded silence, and Olaf was made to turn with his face
to the high seat. There sat King Valdemar in his robes of justice, and
with his naked sword lying before him on the oaken table. At his right
side sat Queen Allogia, with her eyes fixed gravely upon the young
criminal.
Presently, when there was complete silence, Olaf's accuser stepped
forward, and making the sign of Thor's hammer, spoke aloud. He was
named Rand the Strong, and the vikings had chosen him as their captain
in the place of the dead Jarl Klerkon. He told very truthfully how the
young prisoner had made his attack upon Klerkon, and showed that it was
in no mean and underhand way that he had committed this crime, but with
such boldness that none had guessed what was happening until they saw
Klerkon fall to the ground with the lad's axe buried deep in his skull.
Then came others, both townsfolk and seafolk, declaring that Rand had
spoken truly. And so when all who accused the boy had spoken, Sigurd,
the king's steward, was bidden to rise and say what he knew in Olaf's
favour.
"The boy is my own servant," said he, "and I bought him as a thrall
from a certain yeoman in Esthonia. I know no ill against him, and it
was not in his nature to commit any violent act without cause. Rash he
certainly was in killing this viking without due warning. But Jarl
Klerkon was a man whose skill and prowess have made him well known on
all the seas where the vikings are wont to do battle, and I think he
might easily have defended himself against this child, who, as you have
heard, attacked him face to face in the full daylight. As to the cause
of this attack it was this: some seven summers back Jarl Klerkon
assailed and captured a certain merchant ship, on board of which were
this boy Ole, his mother, and his foster father. Klerkon slew the boy's
foster father and sold the mother and her child into bondage. The boy
took oath of vengeance, which oath he has now fulfilled. Now,"
continued Sigurd, raising his voice so that all could hear, "it is not
lawful for any Esthonian viking to attack a peaceful trading ship; but
Klerkon assuredly did this, and I therefore hold that it was he who was
the aggressor. For this reason, and also on account of his youth, I
crave that the boy's life be spared."
While Sigurd was speaking, Olaf's eyes rested upon the queen. He saw
her lean over and whisper in the king's ear. The king nodded and
smiled, waited until there was silence, and then said briefly:
"Little question is there that the offender is guilty. He is guilty,
and must suffer the penalty of his crime. But as he is still little
more than a child in years the penalty will not be death, but the
payment of a heavy fine. He will, therefore, pay to the vikings whom he
has injured the sum of two hundred gold marks."
Now Olaf deemed this judgment very hard, for he had not the money
wherewith to pay this fine. But his life had been spared, and that was
a great matter. It might be that Sigurd Erikson, who was as he knew
very wealthy, would help him to meet the weregild.
Meanwhile the vikings had put their heads together in council. They
decided that as the young murderer's death would in no way profit them
they would accept the fine. But there was yet something that seemed to
trouble them, and at last Rand the Strong came forward before the king.
"We are well content with thy judgment, O king," said he, "and we agree
that on receiving this money we shall not molest the lad any longer on
account of this matter. But we are told that he is only a thrall, and
that there is no hope of our getting the gold from him. Therefore we
claim that he shall die the death."
Olaf looked towards his uncle as if expecting that he would at once
offer to pay this gold. But Sigurd's eyes were fixed upon Queen
Allogia, who now slowly rose from her seat and held up her hand to
silence the loud murmur of voices that filled the hall.
"As to this money," said she, addressing the vikings in a clear ringing
voice, "there is no need that you concern yourselves. The gold shall
now be paid to you in full. It is here!" she cried, throwing down a bag
of coins upon the table. "Now, loosen the boy's chains! Loosen his
chains and set him free."
Then Olaf's warders unbound him, and at a sign from the queen he
stepped to the table and took up the bag of gold and carried it to Rand
the Strong, who received it from him with willing hands, bidding the
boy have no further fear.
On that same day the vikings departed out of Holmgard not ill pleased,
for they went away much richer than they had come, and none of them
seemed at all sorry at the loss of their chief. Jarl Klerkon had gone
to Valhalla, they said, and he was surely happier than they.
Now on the day after the paying of the weregild Olaf had audience with
Queen Allogia, and he thanked her well for the great friendship she had
shown him.
"Little do I deserve your thanks, Prince Olaf," said she. "What I have
done is no more than I would wish any other woman to do for my own son
if he were so hardly dealt with in a foreign land. And now," she added,
"since I have at length learned of what great kin you are, it is my
wish that you shall be received here as becomes your royal birth, and
that you shall be educated as behoves a king's son. Too young are you
yet to bear arms as a warrior. For the present, therefore, you shall
attend upon me as my page, and you will be treated with all kindness."
Not as a servant, but rather as an honoured courtier was Olaf
Triggvison received after this time. He was twelve winters old when he
came into Holmgard, and he abode in King Valdemar's service other five
winters. Little can be told of his life during those years. They were
years of preparation for his great work in the after time; and although
he learnt very much and acquired a large part of the skill that was to
make him famous among men, yet his days were without adventure.
There was one matter which had sorely troubled him for many a long day,
and this was the thought of his mother living in bondage. Little did he
remember of those early times when she had done so much for his sake;
he had been too young then to understand what sacrifices Queen Astrid
had made and what privations she had endured. But ever as he grew older
he thought more of her, and it pained him very much to know that even
now, when he was living in comfort, with good food and rich apparel,
she, to whom he owed so much, was perhaps labouring as a bondswoman
under some cruel master.
On a certain summer morning he sat in the queen's presence, playing
upon a little harp that Allogia had given to him. And as his deft
fingers touched the trembling strings he chanted a little song, telling
of how the giant Loki, in punishment for all the ills he had done to
gods and men, was bound by strong cords against the walls of a cave,
with a serpent suspended over him dropping venom into his face drop by
drop; and of how Sigyn his wife took pity on him and stood by him for
hundreds of years, catching the drops as they fell in a cup which she
held.
Suddenly in the midst of his song Olaf stopped. The queen looked round
at him and saw that there were tears in his eyes.
"Why do you weep?" she asked. "Are you not happy, Olaf?"
"Happy enough am I for my own sake," he replied. "It was the thought of
my mother that brought the tears to my eyes. I was thinking that what
Sigyn did for the wicked giant was just such a good act as my mother
would do for anyone whom she loved."
"Marvellous it seems to me," said Allogia, "that we can never learn
what has become of the good Queen Astrid."
"I think," returned Olaf, "that if ever I were to journey into Esthonia
I might get some tidings of her. The last that I heard of her was that
she had been sold to a rich fisherman named Hallstein, who made her
labour at cleaning the fish for him and mending his nets."
"A sorry occupation for a queen to be at!" Allogia said with a sigh.
"But if it be that you have any hope of finding her, then it would be
well if you made that journey you speak of. Sigurd Erikson goes north
to Esthonia in three days' time, on business for the king. Will you not
go with him?"
"Gladly will I go with him," answered Olaf, "if it be that I may."
Well, on the third day Olaf and Sigurd mounted their horses, and with a
good company of men-at-arms set off on their journey over the rocky
plains. Five days were they riding before they came within sight of the
blue sea with its ships and its quiet green islands. That sight brought
a restless yearning into Olaf's spirit. It seemed as if nothing would
now content him but that he should go out upon the wide ocean and spend
all his days in roving. And so much did he speak of the ships and of
the viking life that when at last the time came for the return to
Holmgard, Sigurd Erikson had hard work to win the boy away with him.
While Sigurd was dealing with the people concerning the king's
business, Olaf Triggvison went about from place to place in quest of
tidings of Queen Astrid. But nothing certain could he learn, for he
dared not say that the woman he sought was the widow of King Triggvi,
and when he told of her fairness those whom he questioned only shook
their heads. They had seen many bondswomen who were fair, they said,
and how could they tell that any one of them was she whom the young
hersir was now seeking? At last Olaf found his way to the house of
Hallstein the fisher, only to hear that Hallstein had been drowned in
the sea full five winters before. But Olaf described his mother to the
fisher's widow, who bade him fare to a certain yeoman named Einar
Ulfsson, at a farmstead over the hills. So Olaf took horse and rode
away to this man and questioned him concerning Astrid. Einar remembered
her, for she had been his bondwoman for two summers. He had sold her,
he said, to a stranger, who had taken her on board his ship and carried
her away across the seas. This was the last trace of his mother that
Olaf could discover, and he went back to Sigurd Erikson and told him
what he had learned. Sigurd was very sad at this, for he loved his
sister, and it pained him to think that she was still in slavery, when,
if she could but be found, she might live in comfort and happiness. But
he bade Olaf to be hopeful, "for," said he, "I think it may be that
some friendly man has bought her and taken her home to Norway. And if
that be so, then we shall soon learn the truth. I will send messengers
to Ofrestead, and my father, Earl Erik, will surely find her if she is
to be found."
Now when Olaf returned to Holmgard it was with the resolve that he
would not long remain in this foreign land, but would take his first
chance to go west over sea to the country of his birth. He had seen the
ships passing along the rocky coasts of Esthonia; he had breathed the
fresh free air of the sea, and the viking blood in him had been roused.
His spirit was filled with the ambition to be the commander of a great
warship, and to rove the ocean as his father had done, to visit distant
lands and to make himself glorious in battle. But well he knew that to
fit himself for the viking life he must increase his strength of body
and acquire even greater skill than he now had in the use of all
warlike weapons. So he set himself the task of excelling in the games
and exercises that were then known and practised.
Already he had been taught by his uncle to read runes, to recite sagas,
to play upon the harp, to carve wood, to twist string, to bend a bow,
and to shaft an arrow. These and many other arts had come easy to his
active mind and his deft fingers. All that a man of peace need know he
knew full well. Nor had he neglected to give thought to the religion of
his times. Every day he went into the temple to bow down in devout
worship of the heathen gods, to take part in the rites and ceremonies
of his faith, and even to offer sacrifice to Thor and Odin. The graven
image of Odin was to him, as to most of the Norsemen, a sacred and a
holy thing. When he took oath it was by the sign of Thor's hammer that
he swore; he knew the names and the special powers of all the gods in
Asgard, and Valhalla was the heaven to which, after death, he hoped to
go.
But these arts and this religion would not alone fit him for fulfilling
his ambition. To be such a great viking as he dreamed of becoming he
must learn how to use his sword, how to wield his battleaxe, how to
throw a spear and to shoot an arrow with greater skill than any other
man could boast. He must learn, too, how to defend himself, and how, if
wounded, to bear pain without shrinking. He was a king's son, and to be
worthy of his father it was well that he should excel even the full
grown men who had been well tried in battle and who had never known the
meaning of defeat.
To this end Olaf remained three other years in Holmgard, which time he
spent in making himself strong. In the neighbouring waters of Lake
Ilmen he practised swimming, and with such success that at last he
could remain under the surface for many minutes, diving off a ship's
prow and coming up again under her steering board. So quickly and
strongly could he swim that no man rowing in a boat could keep level
with him. He could ride the wildest horse in the king's stable. At
running and jumping no man could surpass him. In the use of the sword
he was so expert that he could wield the weapon with either hand, and
he could throw two spears at once. Never was he known to shoot an arrow
without hitting the mark. So long as daylight served him he was always
to be found performing some manly feat.
But in these matters it was not his training alone that aided him.
Nature had given him a very beautiful and powerful frame, with well
proportioned limbs, clear quick eyesight, and wonderful strength to
endure all fatigue. Also, through all his life he was never known to be
afraid of any danger or to shrink before any enemy. Other men of his
race have won undying renown, but Olaf Triggvison has ever been
accounted the fairest and tallest and strongest of all the heroes of
Scandinavia, and in prowess surpassing all the warriors told of in the
sagas.