hey soon left Iceland far astern,
Though Signar's thoughts remained behind.
"Who was that man? I never learned
His name, nor how he e'er divined

"The tale of how my mother fared.
And what of she who cared for us?
Does good Jarnsaxa still live there?
Or is she, too, consigned to dust?"

But thoughts like these were set aside
When, as they landed on their shore,
The men aboard were much surprised
To meet an army dressed for war.

Two columns, equal to a man,
Stood grim, awaiting some strange foe.
Prince Thorvald led the armored van,
Arrayed in gold from head to toe.

"How fares your mother?" Thorvald asked,
"She must be taken to our hall."
But Signar said, "'Tis no mean task,
For Freya holds her in his thrall."

Prince Thorvald said, "Such sore despair!
I feared that when I saw your face,
For youthful joy is vanquished there,
And careworn lines now take its place.

"But other tasks now take the fore.
The Swedes and Finns attack our east,
And Denmark plies its mighty oars,
In hopes their army may increase.

"We'll not allow these three to meet,
For that, we'll set against the two.
There'll be no quarter, no retreat,
And thus it is, we turn to you.

"Three columns are what Norway wields.
As for the first, the king is head,
The second, I will take afield.
As yet, the third remains unled.

"You'll take these men to gloried fray,
Though they are yet unseasoned youth.
They've trained in arms throughout their days,
But, still, they want of Odin's proof."

"I'll lead to glory or to death!"
The loyal man assured his lord,
"Though I may breathe my final breath,
It shall be used to stain my sword.

"Now come, where stands our noble king?
You speak of three, I see but two.
I fail to see your reckoning.
What good can absent armies do?

"I know not if he stands or falls,"
Prince Thorvald grimly answered him,
"He marched in hopes he might yet stall
Advances by the Swede and Finn."

"He marches on our eastern foe?
Then why do we wait in the west?
Now quickly, we must turn and go,
We've neither time for food nor rest!"

They marched toward the western meres
With war-thoughts coursing through their hearts.
The way was hard, their pace severe,
For Thorgeir had a three-day start.

Two days they'd gone ere seeking rest
Or filling howling stomachs' void.
Despite the knowledge it was best,
The leaders, still, were much annoyed.

That hearty pair would fain go more,
Their valor had not left or flagged.
But needs their men could not ignore,
Meant strength was sapped and bodies sagged.

They stopped within a welcome glade
To camp beside a tranquil stream.
As viands fell beneath their raid,
They slept, too worn to even dream.

But Signar could not pass Sleep's gate,
Nor find her welcoming embrace.
With battle-thirst he could not sate,
His frenzied thoughts ran on apace.

While walking o'er the sleeping ground
He saw his prince, still dressed for war.
Though Thorvald did not turn around,
He called, "Come Signar, look afore!"

But Signar asked, "What see you, sire?
There's naught but blackness 'neath these clouds."
And Thorvald said, "I see the fires
Reflected in the sky's white shroud.

"The light that shines is much too bright,
To be my father's company.
Yet I perceive hope 'midst that light.
But tell me now, what do you see?"

So Signar gazed upon the glow.
He studied long before said,
"I see the light, but do not know,
What warms your heart in fi'ry red."

Explaining, Thorvald told his man,
"The circle gathers close within
Then empties, darkened for a span,
Ere coming to the flaming rim.

"The center's where my father lays,
Surrounded all on every side.
We've yet to march a quarter day,
Before we swim in Odin's tide."

Then Signar gave misgivings breath,
"Who stands beside our noble king?
He faces quick and certain death
Within our foes' constricting ring."

"Young man, feel not the least concern,
Brave Olaf stands beside his shield.
Upon his sword arm, Surt's heart burns.
Andvari, likewise, takes the field."

"But such a force's hopes are grim,
For these are men with hoary beards!
Their enemies aren't Swede or Finn,
But all their quick advancing years!"

Assuring Signar, Thorvald spoke,
"Allay these heedless fears you hold.
These men are worn by life's stout yolk,
But they are wily, wise and bold.

"They die to gain Valhalla's hall,
But prove themselves as fighting men,
In hope that ev'ry foe who falls,
At Ragnarok, shall be a friend.

"E'en Guttorm yearns for battle's din,
And likewise Jonakr and Brak.
They seek to die, they seek to win,
They'll fall, but they shall never crack.

"They'll hold, I tell you. They shall hold.
They'll fight for well nigh one full day.
We'll see them only growing cold,
But they shall let us turn the fray.

"The Swedes still feel the coward's shame,
For leaving Denmark on the shore.
Their efforts to restore their names,
Will make them hasty in this war.

"Their best now dream of one great swing
That brings our mighty regent down.
Upon his head, they hope to bring,
Atonement with his bloodstained crown.

"The Finn will see their ally's surge,
And not allow themselves outdone.
But they'll be on the outward verge,
And here the battle will be won.

"Our columns will each take a side
And squeeze our foe between the twain,
The Finns, I pray, will soon divide,
And find their ardor on the wane.

"The Swedes, though, shall not fall so well.
They'll fight unto a single man.
But heroes' might cannot repel,
Attacks beyond their sword tip's span.

"Within the center, Sweden's best
Will raise their arms with pride alone.
Still undeterred, but wanting rest,
Those doughty men will fall like stones.

"Tonight, no more will need be done,
The bait is snagged within the snare.
With plans laid out, our sleep must come;
Now go to take your nightly share."