Authun and the Bear, Part Four

In which our Intrepid Hero goes home

Having received King Sweyn’s blessing and money for his pilgrimage to Rome, Authun set off. Not much is known of Authun’s stay in Rome, but he presumably did many pilgrim things. Like attending Mass held by the Pope. Confessing his sins and receiving absolution. Praying. Things like that. Good, holy things.


On his return to Denmark, he was sadly struck by some nasty disease, which withered him into skin and bones and whittled the money bestowed by Sweyn into nothing.

He was forced to resort to begging and stealing in order to get food as he continued to struggle on his way back to Denmark. Gradually his hair began to fall out until he was completely bald and appeared terribly gaunt and wretched.By the time he eventually reached Denmark, he was an unrecognisable skeleton of his former self.

It was Easter-tide when he found the royal court.

He hesitated, unwilling to show his face in public. He lingered under the shadow of the church where Sweyn’s Easter Masses were being celebrated. Authun hoped that eventually he would meet the king there, but the rich clothes of Sweyn and his courtiers made him even more unwilling to greet Sweyn. Authun joined those other pilgrims who had yet to cast aside their pilgrims’ staffs and wallets outside the court’s banqueting hall, where food was provided, as was the custom, especially during Holy Week.

One evening during that week, Authun tried to meet Sweyn as he went to Evensong. Although it had been difficult before, he found it even more so now, as the king was accompanied by drunken courtiers.

Evensong had been particularly beautifully sung, Sweyn thought, not that he knew all that much about music. The evenings were beginning to lighten again and it was not quite dark as he walked back to the hall with his courtiers. They were somewhat boisterous now, although they had managed to show sufficient piety and sobriety during the service. They were walking ahead of him, clearly eager to get back to the mead which the serving girls would be setting out in the banqueting hall for them.

A movement in the shadows caught Sweyn’s eye; the light was just enough for him to make out the shape of a man. The courtiers had by now disappeared into the hall, and Sweyn called out: “Come forward, you who wants to meet me; I imagine that is your wish, you who lurk in the shadows.”

The man hesitated, then stepped forward and fell at Sweyn’s feet. Sweyn did not recognise, as well he might not, so great were the changes in Authun’s appearance.

“Lord,” he uttered, but got no further as recognition dawned on Sweyn.

“Authun?! Get up!” Sweyn declared delightedly, although aghast at Authun’s skeletal state. He pulled the prostrate man to his feet and grasped his hand. “Welcome, my friend, welcome! Goodness, you have greatly changed since I last saw you!”

He took Authun by the arm and led him into the banqueting hall. The courtiers, upon seeing the king’s companion, laughed at the sight of Sweyn with a skeleton. But Sweyn quelled the laughter with a look of thunder and said, “You need not laugh at him: his soul is far better provided for than any of yours!”

He turned to a serving-girl and asked that a bath for Authun be readied, and some of his own clothes be found for Authun to wear. Such was done and Authun returned to the banquet feeling considerably better than he had done in a long while and considerably better dressed. Sweyn had a space made for him beside himself and treated Authun as a much-respected guest.

In the weeks after Easter, Authun recovered much of the weight which he had lost, and his hair began to grow again. By Ascension he was fully recovered.

King Sweyn asked Authun to remain indefinitely at his court, offering him wealth and status. “I would make you my cup-bearer and you would be treated with high honour,” he promised.

But Authun, with some regret, said, “May God reward you, lord, for all the honour which you would place upon me, but it is in my mind to travel back to Iceland.”

This confused Sweyn. Why would anyone wish to return to the cold rock in the Northern seas when they could receive honour and riches in the Danish court?

“To me, this is a strange choice,” he said, bemused.

Authun began to explain. “It is thus, lord: I am not unsure of the great honour which I have here, but while I would reside in some splendour and want nothing, my mother treads a beggar’s path in Iceland because the money which I provided for her before I left Iceland over three years ago will now be finished.” It was simply spoken, and, to Sweyn’s ears, there was a strong ring of sincerity. He was impressed.

“That is well said,” he replied, “and as a man ought. May you be a man of good fortune, for such is the only reason which I could hear without displeasure for you to leave me. Stay with me now until a ship can be found which is ready to travel.”

To this offer, Authun assented and less than a month later, King Sweyn accompanied Authun to the shore where the quay was, where merchants were preparing their ships for the summer’s trading. There were ships destined for many different lands: to the eastern trading routes in the Baltic, to Saxony, Sweden or Norway. The two men walked along the quay-side, looking at the busy hurrying to and fro of the merchants and workers. They came before a beautiful ship, with a carefully carved figurehead of a serpent. It was being prepared for travel northwards.

“How do you like this ship, Authun?” Sweyn asked, as Authun stared at the vessel.

“It’s beautiful, lord,” was all that Authun could manage as a response.

“Then, it is yours,” the king said. “I want to give you this ship as a reward for the bear.”

Authun mustered all the graciousness at his command in order to thank the king for the gift of the ship.

Before Authun left, when the ship was ready some few days later, Sweyn said to the Icelander: “Although you now want to travel away from me, I will not hinder you, despite my express wish to honour you greatly in my court. I have heard that it is difficult to find harbour in your land’s coast, and there are many places of open coast which are dangerous to ships. No, should you happen to become wrecked and lose the ship and its cargo, then you would have little to show that you have met King Sweyn and given him a great treasure. Therefore, I give to you this silver.” Sweyn handed to Authun his own leather purse full of silver coins. “This will ensure that you will not be entirely without money, even if you become ship-wrecked, as long as you keep a-hold of this purse. Although, it may still happen that you lose this money; you would still have nothing to show that you have met King Sweyn and would have benefitted little from giving him a great treasure,” he added musingly. He thought for a moment and then drew from his arm one of the gold rings which he habitually wore and proffered it to Authun. “Take this. Then if it should turn out so badly that you are ship-wrecked and lose the silver as well, then you would not be entirely without money when you come to land, because many men have gold on them in ship-wrecks and from this it can be seen that you have met King Sweyn, as long as you hold onto this arm-ring. And this I want to advise you: do not give this ring to anyone, unless you think that you have an exceedingly great kindness to reward a most noble man. Give them then this ring, because it is fitting for a noble man to receive. And now: farewell!”

Sweyn stepped back as Authun embarked the ship. He stood by the figure-head as the men began to row and lifted his hand in farewell to the Danish king.

The ship was turned in the direction of Norway as they left the harbour. Authun thought to take the cargo to Norway and trade there, in the south of the country. They came in to land in the region where King Harald was in residence.

Authun remembered his promise from several years before. When the cargo had been unloaded, he left his merchant captain in charge of bartering the goods while he went to pay his respects to the king.

King Harald’s court was readying itself for the mid-summer celebrations. Harald himself was trying to plan his next sortie against Denmark. The protracted war was wearying him and he hoped that the coming offensive would provide a more definitive result. With any luck, it would leave him holding Denmark as well as Norway. He glanced up from his discussion with his captain as a kerfuffle broke out in the hall’s doorway.

The king’s guards were disinclined to allow this random Icelandic stranger into the hall, even with the story he told of a promise to the king. The man bore the King of Denmark’s ring on his arm and leather purse on his belt. Clearly he was a spy or assassin, sent by Sweyn to kill Harald.

Harald’s memory served him well, and he recognised the man trying to enter his hall.

“Let him enter!” boomed across the hall to the guards. The entire hall fell silent. The serving-girls ceased their preparations. Everyone turned to the doorway. The guards stepped aside and Authun walked confidently in. He crossed the floor, the men and girls parting to allow him through to the king.

“Lord, I return as I promised,” he began, greeting Harald more warmly than he had done previously.

“So I see,” replied Harald. “Sit, and drink with us.” He gestured to a serving-girl to bring ale for Authun. A space appeared on the bench beside Harald and Authun took it.

“Now, tell me! In what way did King Sweyn reward you for the bear?”

Authun replied, “In this way, lord: he received it from me.”

“I would have done likewise,” muttered Harald. “Did he reward you yet further?”

“Yes, lord,” Authun answered. “He supplied me with silver to go south.”

“King Sweyn gives men money to go south on a pilgrimage or for other reasons even though they do not all present him with valuable gifts. What else was there?” Harald demanded.

“He invited me,” Authun said, “to become his cup-bearer and to have great honour placed on me.”

“That was well said,” Harald approved, “but he would have rewarded you with yet more.”

“He did thus,” Authun agreed. “He gave me a merchant-ship with a full cargo that hither is best invested in Norway.”

“Very generous,” Harald said, unimpressed, “but I would have done likewise. Did he reward you yet more?”

“Yes, lord,” Authun replied. “He gave me this leather purse filled with silver, so that I should not be penniless if I keep hold of it, even if my ship be wrecked on Iceland’s coast.”

“Most excellently done. I might not have done that,” Harald admitted. “I would have felt free of my obligation by giving you the ship. Did he reward you yet more?”

“Indeed so, lord,” Authun said. He indicated the gold arm-ring which he wore. “He rewarded me yet further by giving me this ring that I wear on my arm. He said that it might happen that I might lose all the silver, but that I would not be penniless if I had the ring. He bade me not to part with it unless I had some noble man’s great kindness to reward, to whom I wanted to give it. And now I have met just that man, lord, for you had the chance to take both the bear and my life from me, but you let me travel in peace where others could not.” Authun pulled the ring from his arm and held it out to King Harald.

Harald received the ring graciously and gave Authun fine gifts in return before Authun went back to his ship for the journey to Iceland.

And, no doubt, he lived the rest of his life dining out on the story of his travels and the kings he had met.

Authun and the Bear, Part Two

In Which Our Intrepid Hero Journeys South

Thorir waited for a favourable wind before rounding up his crew, complete with Authun and his bear, to make the journey back across the northern seas to Norway. Again, their journey was good, even with the added danger of the bear onboard.
When they reached Mœr and Thorir’s farm, they unloaded the ship’s cargo. When the southern merchants come and bartered, Authun negotiated with one in order to get himself and the bear at least to the southern fjords of Norway.
Unfortunately for Authun, when he arrived in the south of Norway, he discovered that Harald was in residence in the region. However, Authun remained undeterred in his determination to take the bear to Denmark. The merchant brought his ship to the shore and the crew dragged it inland. Authun led his bear behind him as he found and hired a place to stay while he worked out how to cross the straits between Norway and Denmark.
In his court, not far away (relatively speaking), Harald was surrounded by his retinue, celebrating the mid-summer. Not long after Authun had agreed a hire for a temporary shelter, the man with whom he had struck the deal was to be found in Harald’s halls. With the quantity of mead flowing, it was not long after that when a rumour of a valuable bear in his realm reached Harald’s ears. That an Icelandic man had brought such a treasure merely served to increase Harald’s desire for the creature. After all, an Icelander was essentially still subject to the Norwegian crown, wasn’t he? Harald had occasionally seen brown bears during his youthful travels through the Finnish and Slavic lands, but he had only ever heard tell of white bears before.
He demanded to meet the man who boasted in his cups of having seen and stood beside such a creature. The man, Thorkell, was brought before Harald. Thorkell, although not small, was dwarfed by Harald, whose head seemed to stretch towards the heavens, his yellow hair tumbling in untidy braids over his broad shoulders. As far as could be determined, he favoured braided hair to keep it from entangling with his beard and moustache, which drooped over his chin down his chest.
“Is this true that I’ve heard? Is there a white bear in your hut?” Harald asked of the man, now quivering at his feet, mostly because of the mead he had poured down his throat than because he feared his king. He was, it’s true, somewhat in awe of Harald; the king had a notoriously fiery temper and his eyebrows gave the appearance of sceptical disbelief, one permanently higher than the other. Not an encouraging demeanour. So Thorkell gibbered incoherently. He had not expected to be called upon to corroborate his possibly slightly exaggerated, alcohol-fuelled boasts, and certainly not to his chieftain. There was good reason that Harald had earned the sobriquet ‘Hard-Ruler’ (or ‘Hardrada’).
“Well, man? Speak!” roared Harald, volatile as a volcano. He brought his drinking horn down heavily onto the table. Thorkell winced.
“There’s, there’s a man with a bear. From Iceland. He’s renting my hut,” he gulped tripping over his words as he rushed to say them, hoping to avert the king’s wrath.
“Well, I want to see this man,” Harald stated calmly, his voice implacably determined. “Bring him here.”
“Yes, lord, straight away, lord,” Thorkell gabbled, his nose hitting his knees as he bowed and scraped before the king. He hurried backwards out of the hall in a bid to fulfil Harald’s orders as quickly as was humanly possible. Harald sent several men to ensure that Thorkell carried out the promised actions.
At Thorkell’s hut, Authun proved reluctant to accompany him back to Harald. He thought it inadvisable to leave the bear alone. However, eventually he was persuaded, Thorkell’s agitation offering a greater argument than any which he expressed.
Authun was brought before Harald as soon as they returned to the hall. They greeted one another with courtesy and respect. Almost, it was a warm greeting, if such can be had between men who have never met before. Harald smiled benignly.
“Is it true that you have with you a wild bear of immense value?”
It seemed to Thorkell, who hovered uncomfortably in the background, that Harald was being uncommonly pleasant, as if he feared that he would scare Authun. Authun stood proudly before the king, his head held as high as it could be, his back straight.
“Yes, it is true. I do own such a beast,” Authun replied clearly.
“If I was to pay you the sum which you paid for the bear, would you let me have it?” Harald asked.
Thorkell thought that the question sounded curious, idle, even, as if Harald had only just considered the matter.
“I will not, lord,” Authun answered. Again, his voice was clear and unwavering.
“What if,” Harald asked, “I give you twice the price which you paid? Would you let me have the bear then? That would, after all, be much more in your favour then, especially since you gave all you own for that bear, from what I heard.”
“I will not, lord,” Authun repeated steadfastly.
“Well, would you give me the bear then?” Harald demanded, exasperated. In his mead-addled brain, Thorkell thought that his king sounded quite desperate and, with some stretch of the imagination, Harald could almost be said to be begging Authun for the bear.
“No, lord,” Authun said, almost regretfully.
“But what on earth do you intend to do with the beast?” the king asked, by now confused.
“Um,” began Authun, suddenly aware of the danger in which he now found himself but unable to tell bare-faced lies to the man nicknamed ‘Hard-Ruler’. He hesitated, trying to find the best way of explaining his intentions to Harald. “Um, I have the intention to go to Denmark and present it to King Sweyn.”
King Harald’s men stared at Authun. Thorkell suddenly recovered his composure, despite the alcohol, for here was a man upon whom Harald was more likely to bring down his wrath. Harald wanted the bear, was prepared to pay vast sums to own the creature, and the man who did own it refused to sell it on the grounds that he wished to give it to Harald’s greatest enemy.
“Can it really be that you are a man so ignorant that you have not heard of the war which exists between us and Denmark? Surely in Iceland you have heard! Or do you honestly think that your luck is so great that you will manage to get to Denmark, unscathed, with such a valuable gift, even though others, on more urgent errands, don’t?” Harald exclaimed, scornfully.
Authun replied: “Lord, I know it is in your power to allow me safe travel or not, but surely nothing agrees between us but that which we had earlier intended.”
Harald considered him carefully. “Hmm. Well, if I allow you and your bear safe travel to Denmark, then you must return to me and tell me how King Sweyn rewards your gift and may it be that you are fortunate in your endeavour.”
“That I promise you that I will do,” Authun vowed.
At this, Harald called for someone to bring Authun a horn of mead and the midsummer festivities continued.

In the Eleventh Century North Sea

For a change, I thought I’d share with you a Norse story. But first, some context is needed because I’m going to make the assumption your knowledge of Scandinavian history is sketchy at best. My apologies if this is incorrect.

So, the story is an English translation of an Old Norse short story. It’s about an Icelander and a polar bear (or “ice bear” in the literal translation). The translation, and thus any embellishments, is mine. I take full responsibility for any mistranslation.

But before the story begins, the first part of which I shall post in a day or two, the historical context. For it is a “true story”, honest. It’s true in the sense that it might have happened; that the main character, Authun, might have lived; and that the two Kings certainly did, and at the same time. It’s not uncommon for reality to be a bit blurred in the “historical” sagas and for kings to be living when they shouldn’t.

The main characters are:

Authun – a poor Icelander

King Harald Hardrada – King of Norway

King Sweyn Estridsen – King of Denmark

The events take place somewhere in the 1050s. Authun’s background is, perhaps, unnecessary, since he seems to be in the role of ‘local boy made good’.

The two kings, though, are more fun. They have an interesting history.

I shall start with Harald Hardrada. You may know of him. He died in 1066, at Stamford Bridge, defeated by Harold Godwineson, two weeks before Harold was defeated at Hastings. Harald Hardrada (or “Hard-Ruler”) was the much younger half-brother of a previous King of Norway, Olafr, who became the Norwegian King-Saint after being killed in battle in 1030 (and Norway passing into the hands of Knut the Great of Denmark).

Now, really, Harald shouldn’t have been become King of Norway. Not only did Knut the Great have sons, but so too did St Olafr. Knut’s son Svein and his mother were unpopular regents of Norway, so the throne passed to Magnus, Olafr’s son. After Olafr’s death, you see, Harald had gone abroad. To Byzantium. Where he became quite rich, fighting in the Varangian Guard (the Byzantine Emperor’s personal bodyguard, largely made up of Norsemen), and plundering the empire when emperors died. Of which three did during his sojourn in the south.

While he’s busy getting rich there, Sweyn’s story. Through his mother Estrid, he was the nephew of Knut the Great. Apparently he had a limp, but this didn’t stop him from becoming a decent military leader. However, Knut’s son Harthaknut was King of Denmark after Knut’s death. He didn’t last long, and then Magnus (remember him?) managed to wrench Denmark into his control. Compensation for the death of his father, you see. Sweyn bided his time and rose to the rank of Jarl (Earl) under Magnus.

Anyway, having become quite rich, Harald returned to Scandinavia in the 1040s. Magnus had, by now, also become King of Denmark. After making a pact with Sweyn Estridsen and harrying the coast of Norway, they persuaded Magnus to split Norway with Harald. And to agree to let Sweyn have Denmark when he was done with it.

Fortunately for the pair of them, Magnus died in 1047. Somehow. The jury’s still out on precisely how, since reports vary from illness to falling overboard and drowning to falling off a horse.

But the end result is that Norway has Harald and Denmark has Sweyn. You’d think this was the end of this tale, wouldn’t you? Except it’s not. Of course it’s not. Otherwise I wouldn’t be telling all this, since Authun’s story is a decade later.

Because Harald decided that he wasn’t happy being just King of Norway. He wanted Denmark as well. In fact, as is seen in 1066, he wanted England too. He wanted what Knut had. A North Sea Empire. Because, you know, being King of one country, and having all that lovely Byzantine treasure, just isn’t enough for one man.

So the really important fact that you’ll need to remember while reading about Authun and his bear in a few days’ time is this. Denmark and Norway are at war. Harald and Sweyn are no longer friends.

But don’t worry. All of this short history will be there for your referencing convenience. Or, you know, Wikipedia.

King Haakon VII of Norway

On this day in 1905, the dissolution of the personal union between Sweden and Norway, in effect for just under 90 years, came to an end.

Prince Carl of Denmark (full name Christian Frederik Carl Georg Valdemar Axel) of the House of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg became more simply known as King Haakon VII of Norway. He was married to Maud of Wales, the daughter of Queen Victoria’s son and heir, the future Edward the Peacemaker.

An early piece of Scandinavian film footage is a short clip of the newly elected King Haakon and his family disembarking from the ship, Heimdal, at Kristiania (Oslo, as was) for the first time. Haakon and Maud were crowned the following year at Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim.

King Haakon VII reigned for 52 years until his death in September 1957, having guided Norway through two World Wars. Indeed, he threatened to abdicate if his government wished to co-operate with the invading Nazis during World War Two. Such was the respect for him, he did not have to carry out this threat, being credited with doing much to preserve the Norwegian sense of unity and leadership.

He was the first king of an independent Norway in over five centuries, Norway having joined the Kalmar Union in 1397 under Margaret of Denmark, also Queen of Norway and Sweden because she married Haakon VI of Norway, also King of Sweden, although Swedish history becomes complicated at this time and he faced a lot of rebellions and being deposed. Although the Kalmar Union was dissolved when Gustav Vasa became King of Sweden in 1523, Norway remained joined with Denmark until 1814. Fighting in the Baltic towards the end of the Napoleonic wars (during which Denmark-Norway had been compelled to join France, and the two nations had been separated, forcing Norway to establish her own variety of government), led to the break-up of established unions. That of Denmark-Norway and Sweden-Finland.

Norway was joined to Sweden, although it was effectively granted home rule for many matters; and Finland was subsumed into Russia.

Less than a century later, Norway was in a position to elect her own King and finally to be free of ‘foreign’ governance. And she seems to have chosen well in the Danish-born great-nephew of the Swedish king.

So, to King Haakon VII!