The warning of so many bad omens proved to be true. During a terrific sea-battle, in which many ships were engaged, between Hjorvard and Starkad, a powerful Hersir with whom he had long had a feud on account of a disputed inheritance, Hjorvard received his death-wound. During this fierce conflict, weapons buried themselves in bloody wounds, and sank deep into men’s bodies; rivers of blood gushed out on the armor; the whirlwinds of the Valkyrias, as the poetical Norsemen called battles, were abroad among men; arrows and spears played round the shields in the midst of the “tempest of Odin.” Many swords were broken, many shields were rent asunder, many suits of chain-armor were cut to pieces, and many of the host took their journey to Valhalla.

Suddenly Hjorvard thought he saw during the battle a Valkyria, the mighty Skogul, leaning on her spear-shaft, and heard her say: “Now the elect of Odin are coming; a great host will enter Valhalla to-day before night.” Then looking up he thought he saw Valkyrias on horseback, in front of Skogul and Gondul, bearing themselves nobly, helmeted, with shields, with their hair floating in the air behind their backs, and with spears from which rays of light sprung.

Then Hjorvard exclaimed, “Gondul and Skogul, Odin has sent to choose among chiefs who of the Ynglingar kin should to him go, and in Valhalla dwell.” It seemed to him that the Valkyrias hovered over him. He was then clad with helmet and chain-armor, and standing under his war standard; the oars had dropped, the battle was then raging most fiercely, the spears hissed, the arrows quivered, flames of fire came from the swords. Hjorvard urged the Gotlanders and his champions to the fight; the “play of the Valkyrias” was waxing hotter and hotter. Hjorvard’s sword cut into the “cloth of Odin,” for such was the name which Norsemen gave to chain-armor, as if it were water, and reddened the ships with the blood of men.

Suddenly Hjorvard beheld, as in a vision, Skuld the Norn at the head of the Valkyrias, and about to sever the thread of his own life. He was right. Odin guided a spear towards him, and Hjorvard received his death-wound. The following morning he lay on the deck of his ship amidst many dead champions. In his delirium he murmured, “Why hast thou decided the battle as thou didst, mighty Skogul? We surely deserved victory from the gods.” And Skogul seemed to answer: “We have caused thee to keep the field, and thy foes to flee. We shall now ride to Valhalla to tell Odin that Hjorvard the Wide-spreading, and his fallen host, are coming;” and in his dying ears seemed to sound the voice of Odin saying: “Hermod and Bragi, go forth to meet Hjorvard, the valiant Hersir of Gotland, for he is coming this way to the hall; he is bespattered with blood, and has a mighty host following him.” And as he dreamed of entering the portals of Valhalla he heard again the voice of Odin saying: “Welcome, Hjorvard! Thou shalt have peace with ‘the chosen,’ and cheer from the Asars; thou fighter of men, and wise ruler, who didst take care of the sacrifices and temples, thou hast more than many a chief, in many a land, reddened the sword, and carried forward the bloody blade. Twice welcome, Hjorvard! My maids, the Valkyrias, will carry wine to thee, and wait upon thee, and carry ale to those who have come with thee.”

Hjorvard awoke partially, however, from his dying swoon, and lived long enough to be brought home in his ship; and before expiring he said to Sigrlin: “Wife, let my burning journey be worthy of our kinsmen; let a wide and high mound be raised over me; let the mortuary chamber be roomy; surround the mound with tents, shields, weapons of all kinds, for it is good to have them for every-day fight in Valhalla; let foreign linen, silk, and costly garments, and riding gear go with me. Place me on the pyre in full war dress, clad with my gold helmet, my costliest chain-armor, and gird me with one of my best swords. Let many horses be killed and follow me, also my hawks, so that I may enter Valhalla as it befits a great chief and a Ynglingar; and throw gold and silver on the pyre, and throw also many weapons, so that the shining golden doors of Valhalla be not shut against me and my warriors that have fallen. Thus our journey will not be poor, for the wealth that we have earned during our life and not given away will go with us. Place by me also the sharp sword that lay between thee and me before we were wedded, while I courted thee, for thy person was holy, and that sword defended thee and guarded thy honor.”

He had hardly uttered these words when he expired, and, according to holy custom, his eyes and mouth were closed and his nostrils pinched, his body and head carefully washed, and his hair combed.

The people said that Odin himself had steered the ship of Hjorvard during the battle.

Ivar was not in the fleet when the fight which caused his father’s death took place, nor was he at home, but two days after his father’s demise he returned to Dampstadir. He had left his ships on the other side of the island on account of contrary winds, and crossed the country on horseback. On his arrival he went immediately to the great hall, as it was his custom when he returned from an expedition, to drink with his men. He little dreamed then of the sad news that awaited him, for no one on the way had been willing to tell him of his father’s death. He had hardly seated himself on the high seat opposite to that of his father, when his eye caught sight of what he had not noticed at first on his entrance. He saw the walls covered with black and gray hangings. This had been done by his mother, for it was the custom upon occasions of this kind and importance to drape the great hall in mourning, and the hangings told of the great sorrow and loss which Gotland had sustained. By this Ivar then knew that the death of a great kinsman had taken place, and his face at once betrayed an expression of profound anxiety.

Shortly afterwards his mother came in, and seated herself by his side. Ivar looked intently at her, and after noticing the pallor of her face, said to her: “Thou must have ordered, mother, the hall to be thus draped; tell me for what purpose and for whom are those tokens of mourning?”

Sigrlin answered: “My husband, the Hersir of Gotland, is no more. Hjorvard, thy father, is dead, but fell gloriously in the midst of victory.”

“The tokens that forebode the death of a kinsman have then proved true,” said Ivar, with a deep sigh; “the sacrificial chips foretold this.” Then he added sorrowfully, and with a voice full of emotion: “A death-fated man cannot be saved. All is dangerous to the death-fated. A man who is not death-fated cannot receive his death-wound, he will escape in some way or other; but every one must die the day he is death-fated. The decrees which the Nornir made the day of my father’s birth had to be fulfilled.”

Sigrlin was inconsolable at the death of her husband, but she did not weep, nor wring her hands, nor wail, as women often do. Very wise men came forward, who tried to console her heavy heart, but they did not succeed, for though unable to weep, her sorrow was great, and her heart broken.

The high-born brides of powerful chiefs and warriors sat gold-adorned by her side, trying to soothe her sorrow; each of them related her woes, the bitterest sorrow she had suffered. The sister of Gjuki said: “No woman on earth lacks love more than I. I have suffered the loss of two husbands, of three daughters, of eight brothers, and of four sisters, and yet I live.” Still Sigrlin could not weep.

Then said Herborg: “I have a harder sorrow to tell. My seven sons and my husband fell among the slain in the southern lands. The brother of Ægir, the Wind, and the nine daughters of Ran, played with my father and mother, and with my four brothers on the deep; they were dashed against the gunwale of their ship, and they were killed. I myself had to wash, to dress, to handle, and to bury their bodies. All that I suffered in a single year, and no man gave me help. The same year I became a bond-woman. I had to dress and to tie the shoes of a Hersir’s wife every morning. She threatened me because of jealousy, and struck me with hard blows; nowhere found I a better housemaster, nor anywhere a worse housewife.”

Still Sigrlin could not weep.

Then Gullrond spoke thus to them: “Little comfort can you give by speaking as you have done to Sigrlin, wise though you are.” Thereupon she bade them uncover the body of Hjorvard, when she drew the sheet from it, and threw it on the ground at the feet of Sigrlin, saying to her: “Look on thy beloved husband; put thy mouth to his now silent lips, as thou wert wont when thou didst embrace him.”

Sigrlin looked at her dead husband, and she saw the wound on his breast, the lips that could not speak, the ears that could not hear, the eyes that could not see, and the hands that could not caress; the cheeks were pale, and the mind and life had gone. At the sight, she sank down upon the pillow where the dead Hjorvard’s head rested. Flushed were her cheeks, and a tear fell upon her tresses, then upon her knees; and from those springs called the eyes, rivers of sorrow flowed copiously, and she was comforted.

Five days after the death of Hjorvard, his funeral, or his burning journey to Valhalla, took place, for it was the law of the land that men should be laid under mound not later than the fifth day after their demise. The people believed that Odin had enacted the same laws in the northern lands as formerly prevailed among the Asar. Thus he ordered that all dead men should be burned, and that on the pyre should be placed their property, promising that with the same amount of wealth should they come to Valhalla as was burned with them; also that they should enjoy what they themselves buried in the ground, and that their ashes should be thrown into the sea or buried in the earth; that over great men, mounds should be raised as memorials, and over men that had especially distinguished themselves for manliness, memorial stones should be erected.

It had been agreed by Ivar and his kinsmen that Hjorvard’s burning journey should be on board a ship, and that the ship should not be sent to sea, but burned ashore. A fine Skuta of fifteen benches, beautifully ornamented, was chosen for the pyre, their powerful war ships never being used on such occasions. The Skuta was propped to stand up as if it were in the water; the prow looked towards the sea, as if ready to be launched for an expedition. A large quantity of tarred wood surrounded it, and in the prow of the ship the resting place of Hjorvard had been erected. When all the preparations were ready, Hjorvard’s body was carried upon the bed on which he lay; he was dressed in full war costume, clad with helmet and chain-armor, with sword by his right side and shield on his breast; spears were laid by his left hand, and at his feet lay his golden spurs.

Ivar then brought forward his own saddle-horse, magnificently harnessed and equipped. Then followed a superb and profusely decorated four-wheeled carriage, with a single seat standing high in the middle, and twelve horses; the horses and falcons were slaughtered, and the carriage broken and thrown upon the pyre. Then Ivar, just as the torch was applied, bade Hjorvard his kinsman to sail, ride, or drive to Valhalla, as he liked best; and all his champions, warriors, and multitudes of people bade him a happy journey, and expressed the hope that he would welcome them there, at the proper time, when the decrees of the Nornir should be fulfilled in regard to them. So that his journey to Valhalla might be worthy of him, they threw into the pyre many costly things, weapons and quantities of gold and silver. The loose property which Hjorvard had won or got during his life, and that had remained in his possession, was also thrown into the funeral pile. All the weapons that were to follow him to Valhalla were, according to ancient customs, rendered useless. Swords and spear-heads were bent, and their edges indented; shafts were broken, shields were rent asunder, and shield-bosses cut. Roman and Greek objects were partly destroyed, and with Roman coins were also thrown into the ship. Solemn and grand was the spectacle, and lurid the glare. Gradually the flames became less and less high, the noise of the cracking wood became fainter and fainter, and finally nothing was seen but the burning embers.

Then the charred bones of Hjorvard were gathered in the midst of solemn silence. The ashes were scattered to the wind and fell into the sea. The burned bones were put in a beautiful Roman bronze vessel, and with them Roman coins of Diocletian’s time, the spear-point that had caused his death-wound, also a few draughtsmen belonging to his chess-board, and two dice. Twelve shield-bosses, with their convex side downward, were made a lid for the vase, and lay over the bones; a bent sword was placed over the cinerary urn, which was put in the mortuary chamber that had been prepared; and a large cairn, which took several days to build, was raised over Hjorvard’s remains; and a large memorial stone, with runic inscription, put on the top. Thus went to Valhalla Hjorvard, the Hersir of Gotland.

“It is wise,” said Ivar to his foster-brother Hjalmar as they were mournfully conversing upon the sad ceremonies of the past few days, “that Odin has ordered that the wealth of a man, his gold and silver and his movable property, should go on his burning journey with him. This thought makes him generous during his life, and he gives away lavishly the wealth that he acquires, thus preventing his heart from being hardened towards those who are in need. So Hersirs and prominent men should not be miserly. The wealth that is thus given during one’s life is given back to them in Valhalla.”

Then after a pause he added musingly: “foster-brother, I have often thought of Helgi, my first cousin, the son of Halfdan, and that if he had lived he would have been the Hersir of Gotland, instead of my father. Then I should not now be ruler over the sacrifices. How strange are the decrees of the Nornir!”