"It is the will of God. Olaf, and perhaps he has done it for the best. May it not be that he means you to give your whole life to the spreading of his Word in heathen Norway, and has sent you a touch of adversity to try you?"
"Mayhap," responded the King, "but it is hard. He has given me good fortune, and I must bear the bad when it is his will; it may be true that he wishes me to devote myself, heart and soul, to bearing his gospel to my countrymen."
The blow was a terrible one to Olaf, and it was indeed many a month ere he recovered a portion of his former light-hearted spirits. Two days later the Queen was buried, and after the period of mourning Olaf threw himself into the work of preparing the expedition with feverish energy.
This was no light task, indeed. Olaf had a dozen warships in the harbor, but it was impossible to take so large a force, as men had to be left to defend Dublin. Olaf had decided to give up his Irish land, in case of succeeding in Norway, to his brother—in—law, Olaf Kvaran, but he could not leave him without men.
At last, after many consultations with Sigurd and his other chiefs, the King decided to take only the five largest ships, which would hold about seventy—five men each. Thorir Klakke had no inkling that Olaf knew of his treachery, and he advised the King to make a sudden descent on Norway and to take Jarl Hakon unawares at Thrandheim, before men could be gathered. Thorir, in giving this advice, thought that either he would be able to kill Olaf by treachery on the voyage, or else that the men of Hakon, posted at Agdaness in Norway, would remove Olaf before the plan could be accomplished.
The five ships were fitted up in the best of shape. The dragon heads were taken from their prows, and in the place of these great crosses were set up, for Olaf knew that only by the favor of God would he be able to win his father's kingdom. They were laden with all the wealth that Olaf had gathered in his travels through Russia. Constantinople, and England, and at length the expedition was ready to start.
It was a bright morning in August that the King went on board his ships, followed by all his men. Before doing so, he called Alfred and Sigrid to him, and asked them what they intended to do. Alfred hesitated, for although he wished to accompany Olaf, he did not forget that his father was in Flanders, and he did not like to separate from his sister. Finally, Olaf said, with a smile:
"You both had best come with me. I have a plan which I think will work out to your satisfaction; I will tell you later just what it is. Put all your Saxons on board the 'Snake,' Alfred—the ship that old Biorn captured in England, and sail with us. Sigurd will command the 'Crane,' and when we get to the Orkneys I will tell you what I have in mind."
So, wondering what the King meant, the "Snake" was added to the fleet, to Sigurd's great joy. He had feared that Alfred and his sister would be left behind, and it was with no small satisfaction that he helped fit out the "Snake."
When the men were all embarked, Bishop Sigurd, standing in the prow of King 'Olaf's ship, offered up a solemn prayer asking the aid and the blessing of God for their enterprise. As he concluded, a great "Amen!" rolled over the sea from ships to shore, the anchors were weighed, and the journey was begun amid a blare of war-horns and the clash of arms.
The Pentland Firth was not passable, according to reports brought to Olaf, so he bore up for the Orkneys, as had been his wish from the first. These islands had long been settled by Norsemen, and Jarl Sigurd Lodvarson ruled them; but the Jarl and his people were all heathen. for no
