Monday, July 1, 2019

Part 4: War In the North


War In the North

In the olden days, there were still many heathens in the North; and even heathen kingdoms ruled by Jarls, as we have seen. King Olaf did, through Christ unite the warring tribes, and duly then convert them to the Word. This took him time and men to force their discipline. Also did he counsel with the Danes, and they did aid him in his monumental task, for they were Christian men and did they see in Olaf Christian obligette. In 1015, King Olaf did return from making allies of the Danes upon the death of Magnus, called the Good, who was his father. And the people did proclaim him king unanimously, there so glorious was his subdual of the forces of the hob. In 1016, did he then win one last battle at Nesjar, against the Jarls of Lade, to so unite his kingdom to a single Norway, indivisible good Christian land. His task was truly done, the bards did say.

But having then brought to low each Jarlish ealdorman, and ere subdued each Jarlish tribe to Christendom, the Danish men of Juteland wanted more for them to have: they wanted Norway underneath their dainty Jutish pad. And so the game continued on to later innings played, and the sportsmen it concerneth went from ragged eft to mad.

The Jarlish lords conspired with Danes of Juteland, they to keep King Olaf of the Norse outflanked from land as well as sea. For while the Danes held their supremacy upon the waves, Danish armies broke themselves upon King Olaf’s shields in petifaring [1] waves. The land was his, by God and guile be.

In ’28, did Cnut the Great, the King of Denmark wake, he make alliance with the scheming Jarls of Lade (for ere, they still held on to foul oldenways, for then were merciful Norwegians to their days,) to overthrow King Olaf. Such treachery as scarcely had been seen in Christendom did flows’t from Canute. The Jarls united under Cnut’s sly rule, and did the Jutemen’s dirty work on Western Viking’s down acclivities.

Betwixt the men of Denmark and the Jarls, they did unseat King Olaf for a time, and then did Cnut claim for his own the seat of Norway ere the same. But Olaf, did he never so accede, and did he and his men continue to oppose the Southern knaves.

Olaf learnt the news of farmers who dissembled to enfoeff the King’s own general, Hárek of Tjøtta, to the West! Hárek’s challenge, backed up by the Danish crown! There wasn’t time for Olaf to raise up a force befitting of a King, so Westward he did march with his own bodyguard and all the men of Court who he could count on for their armor still, and all their men, besides. He were to put to rest the claimant and the claim, and of united Norway, King remain. Six hundred and three thousand men they counted up, and nary of them had a bow or ballista or courser. All on foot they were, and marched they for a fortnight west, some 40 leagues, through bluster and unrest. Met they then upon the downs at Sticklestad, a force of farmers of one hundred hundred of the longer kind [2] (a number which entotals 14,000 and a few), but all of these were farming-men and other lesser arms, and none were doughty fighters for King Olaf and for God.

Harald and King Olaf were both sons of Good King Magnus, but issued from their different mums. Olaf was, of Harald, twenty years his senior age. In that year of 1030, Olaf was an elder man of 35, while Harald was a young fifteen, but yet already was he manly’d up, a scourge in battle would he show, upon the valor fields would go. Harald Sigurdsson, had he been subject to his brother eld, and they together sailed to Norway back from Rus-Kiev, where they had been to do diplomacy. So then had Harald marched with Olaf off to war for God and Crown, and served him as a gen’ral in his military arm. And Harald did regard his brother as another man mayhap regard his better pa, for their own pa, good Magnus, was long dead, and Harald never knew him well; neh not at all. So as we say anon, King Olaf II, he Haraldsson (who would later on be sainted), brought his own half-brother, Harald Sigurdsson, to valor on the field of Sticklestad. This was in the year 1030 anno domini. Od’s luck!

Also on that field, did Olaf find he was opposed, now put against a pagan adversary he had known, named Thorir Hund. The bards of Northern history do now relate that Thorir was estranged from his King for one of Olaf’s Shire Reeves, a man named Asbjørn Selisbane, had killed the Hound’s dear nephew in an earlier dispute. Thorir had avenged his kin and killed the Reeve, did skalds then say. The King then forced a heavy fine for costing him a goodly man. So the grudge did grow between them. Thorir Hund that day did act as general, Hárek as the sovereign. Urged then Thorir on their farmers with the cry: “Fram! Fram! Bonder!” [3] And they advanced upon these cries.

Olaf, with his heart lade heavily from sorrow at the stern betrayal by his Hárek, rallied up his household nonetheless. They there found themselves outnumbered four to one, but had they better arms and armor, and good discipline. Olaf did then spur them on: “Fram! Fram! Kristmenn, krossmenn, kongsmenn!” Did he cry! And the men of Christ, the Cross, and Kingdom then did rally and pack in against the waves of spearmen – spearmen, yea, who crashed upon them ere like darkest North Sea storm at sea.

Olaf found that Harald had within him piss and vigor! He killed a dozen farmers with his sword, while keeping order in his corps. They cheerèd one another on. Brotherhood of blooded victory united them more vigorèd than mere half-blood before this see’d. Harald did sustain some minor wounds. His manus sinister was broken, but he took no time to rest it up. There was then not the time, for Thorir struck at them right then!

In the afternoon, warm Sól [4] was setting quickly in the south-by-west, and feverish were Thorir’s men to crack the wall of shields and muscle conjured up by Olaf’s men. Thorir Hund himself so then did lead a desperate charge against the King and his own second man! And Olaf met the charge in single combat, King against the multitude of Jarlsmen farmers, resonant in voice and steeled were they, and in the balance were Norway! Thorir saw his mark and quarry.

Called he to his farmers “Bo, for denne Kristen hunden er min! [5]” And Thorir came to stand before the King.

Clashed they then, before a hundred hundred silent men. But grave dissemblement would find King Olaf nearly underswept that day. Olaf was in this exchange so gravely wounded: two peasant farmer heathens did insult the sanctity of single battle! One did strike his knee. And, as he did reel, the other struck his neck! Brother Harald, seeing underhandedness, flew aside the King, his dearly kin, and did dispatch the both of them by dashing them against a mighty stone, set there by God, within the downs at Sticklestad. These two mean-villein farming snakes were made by Harald dead. Olaf, he exhausted then, did lean against the stone and close his eyes, one hand on his knee and the other on his neck. Harald kept a number of the pagan swine at bay with sword and shield and faith in God. But at that very moment, treacherous Thor-Hund did strike beneath the King’s maille shirt and gut him with the very spear the Reeve had used to kill his brother’s son, Leifr!

Throughout the valley where that field did lay at Sticklestad, the sound of angels crying did the people hear. The pagans did not heed it. Heathen farmers and their still-remaining sergeants did’st rout the Royal army off the field, and chased them ‘til they could not chase nehmore. Only then did Sunna set upon the field.

King Olaf’s men then spirited in secret of his mantle and did bury him in sand upon the banks of the Nidelva, to prevent his desecration in the time between the battle and the proper good interment. Anon, then they returned to get it and so bury him in proper as a Christian knight deserveth. When then they returned in seven days, they brought with them a coffin that befits the King of Norway. And they buried him in the good earth and all Norway mourned his passing.

One year past the battle was it hence, some pilgrims came to mourn him. Placed they flowers, burned some incense and poured perfume out before his grave. One perchance did open up the coffin, and, according to the bards, the body found was incorrupt and as they laid it gently fifty weeks ago. That was in 1031. The churchmen summoned then decided they would move his case to St. Clement’s in Trondheim, nearer Sticklestad.

By their hand, in latter years, then did they make erect, in Sticklestad, upon the field where he had died, a newly church for him to there reside. The stone where he was grisly-slain, inside the altarpiece remains. And so he was beatified, for the fair miracle of incorruption of his body demonstrated he was truly sent from God.



[1] Useless, hopeless.
[2] A long hundred is 144.
[3] “Forward, Bondsmen!” (Farmers bonded to the land.)
[4] Both Sól and Sunna were used to mean “the Sun.”
[5] “Stay, for this Christian dog is mine!”

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