For many years, in harbor and ports

The ocean dragons of the fair north did not row

Warships lie along the beaches and untested

Fear stirred the hearts of men here

No sails stained with sea spray

Death cut down our freedom,

In silent grief many cried

At the death of King Harald.

Yet still, many deemed it good

No other man save for Knut

Lay claim to the prize of Holvik’s high throne

For none of the descendants of Sweyn of Lodland,

Shall ever spy again the throne of power.

For the people’s king Knut, did have something in mind

For the betrayer of his cousin Harald the Proud

For on a time selected by King Knut,

Jarl Sweyn’s sons were seized and his men killed

For my own grandfather watched then,

The ships rise once more and row down the coast

Prowling then to Lodland to see the treacherous welp.

Above the prow, sailors looked on as the fire spitter roared once more

The bows were bound in gold, King Knut’s men rowed well.

And Holvik’s women watched on proudly,

As their young king was steering, his new ship Gresk

While his battle-hungry warriors

Dipped oars into the water quicker and quicker.

They could row without tiring,

Till the tarred oars were broken

And the broad blades lay idle

For trumpets would soon sound for battle.

At once, the ships reached Lodland

Lifting oars from the sea without tiring

Before the seventy sea oars

The dragon ships landed upon the sandy beach.

King Knut’s men arrived,

Eager to bring justice to the land.

On both banks of the Vjen river,

That which borders Lodland and Oranland,

All the people could be certain,

That swift punishment would follow

When King Knut’s ships landed there.

And at once, when Knut walked on to bring Sweyn to justice,

He saw then a vision of his dead cousin the king.

King Harald appeared to him above him, atop the cliffs

With a solemn gaze, the dead king pointed his cousin on

To the place where Sweyn had hid and where he would be found.

King Knut had been but a child, when Jarl Sweyn’s treachery was made

King Knut’s angered warriors,

sons and kinsmen of the men slain in Salia and at Onsund

Marked the vengeance they had felt,

And slaughtered the men of Lodland, bringing Sweyn to King Knut.

The Jarl of Lodland, lost sight of his eyes,

Pressed down, he had them ripped from him

The good King Knut marked his justice upon Sweyn’s face.

There did they drop the youngest of the Jarl's sons,

Eirik Sweynssen, now ruled in King Knut’s name.

Peace came upon the land, but dulled and quiet now.

For in this time, King Knut wed Ingerid the daughter of Harald Grensk.

The good and just King of Holvik

Won the match of his desire

For he had gained the hand of the daughter of a noble man

And a hoard of gold for himself.

Yet so, revenge stewed among those who remained loyal to jarl Sweyn.

The blind Jarl’s nephews, Skardi and Sardr

bid their time in the court of their cousin.

Waiting for the moment of weakness to reclaim their honor.

And as had been done before,

King Knut sent out raiding vessels to roam the sea.

Prized hulls of sturdy wood and fine sail

Once more rowed by strong armed northern men.

Freighted with hard won gold, they returned home

Through storm and gale and sea spray

They spotted home and made dock at the port.

Oak keel ploughed through the ocean

All the way west round the cape of the Halsats

Through their winding rivers, to the lands of riches there

After riches were won, many gave their support to King Knut

Who was known far and wide as the people’s king

Good and just in demeanor and wise in decision.

The King had four sons and beamed with pride for it,

Hamundr and Siggeir, were bright of hair and valiant.

Signy his third boy was dignified and diligent.

His last boy, little Hialtr, was but a babe,

when the sons of Hjodi, brother of Sweyn attacked.

Bright flame burned on the crest of the ship atop the sea

Near Voll, the royal dragon ships met the rebels.

A storm scattered all, save for a few of Hjodi’s son’s ships.

The raven ships of Sardr and Skardi roared in the sea

Picking apart the ships before them

Stumbling survivors, scattered by carnage

Sorrowfully fled to safety

Leaving the bulk of the fleet alone then.

And so good King Knut was left alone against his enemies

Many men lay fallen aboard the decks,

Blades tore them and cut their freedom from them.

In silent grief, the king watched his boats sink beneath the waves.

Now the seafaring king had little hope

Strong fear stirred in the hearts of his men

Warships lie smashed against the beaches

The death dealing sons of Hjodi

Sailed their vessels southward

Chasing the ragged ships of King Knut.

Many with power in Holvik,

Wished for the warring to cease,

And so called a council in the city

to discuss peace between the two parties.

Yet in the tents of the sons of Hjodi,

Drinking was done and a man under both did say.

“Which of your banners do you treasure most oh Lords?”

And so, the brothers did say they treasured the banner of the hawk.

For they did claim that whoever bore it into battle, would be victorious.

Yet Halldor, which was his name, did disagree with this.

He spoke, “I will believe in what you say,

when you have won another battle against King Knut.”

The brother’s eyes darted toward each other

And they sent messengers to call off the parlay with King Knut.

For the land split in two,

when the sailing ships of the brothers rowed further to Holvik

Fine ships under bad men, ploughed through the ocean.

And in battle, the two sides came and clashed outside the city

For the sons of Hjodi had acted treacherously.

But the gods granted them a short victory,

For blood red hands sized the green land around them

Open handed they came, to carry off wealth that was not theirs

When the pact between the brothers and King Knut was made

It was to be in peaceful accord

But strife came

At the pointed words of vile Halldor.

Tears were shed when the good and noble king Knut did fall

For the king had seen in a vision before,

The visage of his long dead cousin, the proud king Harald.

“Which would you prefer dear cousin, to come to me now

Or poison your rule with vile deeds against your enemies?”

King Knut did answer, “I wish for the choice to be yours fair cousin

For the choice before was robbed of you.”

And so King Harald bid his cousin to join him, and Knut did die.

So too did die, Knut’s sons along with him,

But spirited away was his last.

By the deed of Hamundr, was Hialtr saved

From the torture of Hjodi’s vile spawn.

For the boy heard the storm of arrows,

Raging all around

As he was led to his escape

By deed of his good brother Hamundr.

Now the princeling goes creeping from forest to forest

To the coast he goes where a ship awaits him

To sail to unknown lands.

Hialtr sailed across east seas, and made it to Rognmark

Where men had arrived who escaped the slaughter of King Knut’s men

By the next spring, they mustered ships and set sail.

That summer, they came upon the seat of Jomsgard

And the brothers there took in the exiled prince.

Gorm, head brother of the order, bid the prince welcome

Gorm sheltered the boy for a few years,

By the way of the sword did Hialtr become a man

Gorm made him a commander of the keep's defense

And gave him that good sword, called Hofung.

Hialtr grew within Jomsgard’s strong walls,

and when the time came, he bid farewell to it

he departed with these words,

“Far-off wolves howl over spoils,

They wipe good blood

from their greedy swords,

and under their nose,

shall I return.”

Hialtr sailed on, through the winding

rivers of the lands of the Prus

rather than plunder these lands,

Hialtr sheltered there for many years.

With a large following, he sailed on

to the city of the eagles, Komnekstad.

Bleak showers and dark rains came

the ships reached the city,

and hard did they row

before they reached the stalls there.

Iron-shields on vessels so gleaming

ringed in the wealth of the old north,

flaunting the colorful rigging of their nation.

The exiled princeling saw ahead of him

The gilded roofs of the great city.

There lie the jewel and purple-crowned dock

which sat upon the maw of that,

where dragon ships wept

upon the mountain walls

of the emperor of cities.

There ruled Matthias, son of Teodor, Emperor.

The prince gathered there

to present himself well

and rally gold and iron

for his vow renewed would be.

There, Northmen came to serve under the army

of Leo, that kinsman of the Emperor,

to make ragged the lord's enemies.

Many ships sailed south to fight

and they were among them.

The Northmen drew lots

with the emperor's man,

for sway, and land to camp.

But Leo's guile was unsurpassed

And the Northmen were tricked. 

Cheated and made a mockery of,

the Northmen were granted a low place

below on the valley floor

of the large encircling camp

there with the dark southerners. 

Hialtr at this was angry 

and grabbed hold of the Komnian.

He snatched the lot away

and with a swift motion,

hurled it into the sea.

“That was my lot you had drawn!” spoke Hialtr

“Then why did you not let those before us see it?”

Leo the commander did say this to Hialtr who replied,

“Look at the one that is remaining,

you will recognize its mark.”

When the lot was examined,

it was seen that it was indeed Leo’s mark

And so, the Northmen were granted the favorable land to encamp on.

During the campaigning, Hialtr remained in reserve,

His men did not battle often with the foes.

Yet when they were bidden to fight, they routed all.

In this way, the Northmen were seen with more respect,

And Hialtr became well respected among the Komnians.

It was now made apparent what the Northmen could do,

Especially against the soft-bodied men of the seas there.

Hialtr gained victory and plunder, wherever he did fight.

When the Komnians returned to their city,

The Northmen remained and continued to plunder

For weather in the south was fine

and the god Veidr's winds blew pleasant,

in that land of milk and grove.

Hialtr now marched his new army south

To land the Komnians call Mykra.

There, he did capture eighty or so towns

Some surrendered to him,

Others resisted and were tormented.

Bravely did he risk his life,

In the lands of the hot south.

Then did the young warrior,

Wage a grim game of war,

upon those enemies called the Zhors.

Hialtr did force submission,

On these lands the Komnians called theirs

Gifting these great victories,

To the fair Emperor Matthias

Who bore them proudly.

Hialtr became very wealthy there,

In the Southern land, against the Zhors

Men of the horse, routed easily

Fleeing upon steeds,

Hialtr seized their won loot

and his hoard grew full.

A city refused to surrender to the army

This city would not fall to assault.

So Hialtr ordered his men to a nearby stream.

To dig a tunnel where the stream flowed

And into a deep ravine nearby.

This displaced the water,

and the river ran away from the town,

Soon the city how no water to drink,

thousands sweltered in dense heat,

and surrendered to Hialtr's army.

After this, Hialtr resolved to return to Komnekstad

With his plunder now returned to him,

he would be on his way,

To return home and reclaim his birthright.

But the Emperor had scorned Hialtr,

Spurred on by the dark whispers

of Leo, his kinsman.

The way back was shut and locked

He refused to return Hialtr’s treasure.

Yet Hialtr did not rush to violent deed,

But asked of him one thing,

“What must I give, for the return of my sword-won hoard?"

And the Emperor answered

“Give me the full of my crown in Mykra,

These lands must be restored to me.”

And so, dutifully, Hialtr went off

and marched to do what was bid of him.

To a place named for one Gordian,

every town had heard of the Northmen

and surrendered as they passed by.

With courage sharp as a sword’s edge,

The unbeaten conqueror did go South

Far to the town of this Gordian

and beckoned them to surrender to him.

With overwhelming advantage,

The town fell before the month,

yet remained unscorched and undisputed.

None suffered or starved there,

for fate watched over Hialtr ever more.

On returning to the city of the Komnians,

The Emperor was overjoyed with the news,

of Hialtr’s many victories.

In the midst of night, he ordered the hoards returned 

And a week of celebration for the Northman.

Splendor unlike any seen

by any man of the frozen North,

was given to the conqueror.

Atop a gilded chariot adorned with plumed feathers,

Hialtr was escorted down the large street of the city.

So acclaimed was he,

That upon the altar of the largest temple,

A laurel crown of grass and moss was placed on his head

And he was named a son

of the Emperor and most righteous.

Yet so, Hialtr would not remain there,

even as the Emperor offered to him,

The hand of his beautiful daughter,

Who shone like the sun itself.

Hialtr refused, for he wished to return home.

With a deep sadness,

the Emperor bid him farewell

And upon a great host of ships,

Hialtr sailed again,

The rivers flow to the East Sea.

During his time away,

the sons of Hjodi made many ill moves.

They built many fine ships

though they had no cause to do so.

Many were gutted unjustly

and hung in the square in Holvik

before their corpses fell from rotten rope.

Their wicked deeds made each

more eager to see them ruined.

Word reached the North of the coming ships,

drenched in blood and gold of the south.

Of the good Knutsson,

the last of Roreth's blood.

The winds spoke of the coming clash.

In their fear, the brothers consulted

a great seeress and wise woman.

Svivra was her name,

and scrying into the fire,

she saw a great tempest arriving.

When the dragon ships landed

Svivra’s vision became clear

She spoke, quivering in the dark

“Now will come a great storm,

to discern the predator from prey.”

Hialtr called a meeting at Sovn

with the angered Men of Holvik.

“Next, we will raise a levy,

a host of splendid men-at-arms

To rid the rot from fair Holvik’s shores.”

Thus, the host of Hialtr waited

as winter's winds blew before them.

By spring, the Hird of Holvik arrived,

and many noble men swore to Hialtr,

to aid him in the coming clash.

And so, Hialtr boarded his ship.

Sjoravn ploughed and pushed.

Her oak oars in tune

with the whipping of the wind,

burst forth a great seaspray.

Behind her, the gale burst forth

Hurricane had come

a rocking tempest.

Dark skies came to the land,

ill omens would be seen in Holvik.

The vile sons of Hjodi,

suffering and lame,

shall meet the great king

and master of the Northmen,

Prowling the sea atop his dragon ship.

Only the gods can decree now,

the side that will rob the other,

of life and all their lands.

For the gods care little

for treacherous men.

Often, did Hialtr launch his vessels to sea

with victory in mind and glory.

Now he sails on in anger.

Across the sea to the land of his birth,

Taken from him so many years ago.

A host of great warships

Now strain against the sea

to the land of Holvik.

To victory or death,

such is the Northman's way.

In haste, the men of Thraneland

Fled at sight of Hialtr and his ships,

Hialtr now lusted for battle.

Eager to see the bodies of murderers

Thrown to the sea and eaten.

At the time, all of Hjeksur

Lay burning and molten.

Fire burned on, fueled by Hialtr’s fury.

For no limit was made,

On punishing those who did not surrender.

The brothers feel the havoc now

of war made on them.

By one who was forged in the fires

of war so cruel,

so far from home.

Often was it asked,

why the fair Hialtr

vented on his rage so

towards these towns

but none say anything of it

For those vile may be born lucky,

but luck's fortune abandoned them,

For they challenge the true king. 

Who bloodies his shield ashore

and wins his land with his army dry.

Many came before Hialtr,

outnumbered as they were to parlay.

Brave as they were, they were not mad,

they refused to fight the army in battle,

for those who would not do the same for them.

Those to be subjects of the good king

Should first show their submission openly.

For by sitting or kneeling before him,

Those who endure unjust rule,

learn the rightness of rule made just.

For as the king wishes,

all the people must bow low.

The king will demand obedience

from those whose obedience

may be swayed so.

The flailing swords of the sons of Hjodi

may still drive the king from his shores.

Unless first persuaded,

to fall beneath his axe

or be hewed beneath his sword.