The Viking Dream [05-06/06/07]

[JON]

Time: 8th or 9th Century AD.

A rearing, fearsome dragon was silhouetted against the setting Sun. The Gretchen rode at anchor in the bay, square sail set. It seemed an odd name for a warship, but, then, the man aboard was complex.

He lay upon an ornate wooden bed by the mast, seemingly asleep. Olaf Gustafson - ‘The Sea Bear’ - was greatly feared by his enemies. And appeared no less formidable in death. Almost seven feet, and powerfully-built, with curling dark hair and beard. And wrapped in a great black fur cloak. The animal epithet was apt. Metal and jewels glinted in the dying rays. All the weapons, riches, and symbols of power he had in life surrounded him.

At the masthead fluttered Olaf’s black raven pennant. In their grief his warriors, lining the beach, struck their shields bearing the same motif. The clatter of axes, spears and swords was deafening. And was accompanied by a low chanting. By contrast, four figures stood in silence. Two were huge men, Henrik and Lars, Olaf’s two closest friends. The first held a walrus tusk horn. The second a bow and one arrow.

Between them, overshadowed in height, though not importance, were a middle-aged woman and a youth. Gretchen, the proud wife of Olaf for 20 years. Her loving husband named his prize warship in her honour. And their eldest surviving son, Erik. Like his mother, tall, lean and blond, but with his father’s piercing iron grey eyes. His left hand tenderly lay on her shoulder.

The blood-red Sun dyed the ocean crimson. Erik raised his right hand. The warriors fell quiet. Henrik sounded the horn three times. Lars aimed his bow, and shot. A flaming arrow appeared to pass through the Sun, then fall, igniting the Gretchen’s deck. Soon the ship was fiercely ablaze [aided by a coating of oil or pitch]. The warriors gave a loud cheer. Lars breathed easily. He only had one shot, and succeeded!

The ropes were cut, and the burning Gretchen set adrift. The warriors watched her send their revered Chief into the coming Night of the Otherworld. Stars shone brightly in the Heavens. Tonight they would feast and drink [a kind of ‘wake’] in Olaf‘s memory. Erik and Gretchen would preside over the proceedings. With a new day, Erik, as Olaf’s chosen successor, would be officially proclaimed the new Chief. [‘The King is dead. Long live the King.‘] The whole cycle would start over… .

[Laucashel]

Originally Posted by JON

Time: 8th or 9th Century AD.

A rearing, fearsome dragon was silhouetted against the setting Sun. The Gretchen rode at anchor in the bay, square sail set. It seemed an odd name for a warship, but, then, the man aboard was complex.

He lay upon an ornate wooden bed by the mast, seemingly asleep. Olaf Gustafson - ‘The Sea Bear’ - was greatly feared by his enemies. And appeared no less formidable in death. Almost seven feet, and powerfully-built, with curling dark hair and beard. And wrapped in a great black fur cloak. The animal epithet was apt. Metal and jewels glinted in the dying rays. All the weapons, riches, and symbols of power he had in life surrounded him.

At the masthead fluttered Olaf’s black raven pennant. In their grief his warriors, lining the beach, struck their shields bearing the same motif. The clatter of axes, spears and swords was deafening. And was accompanied by a low chanting. By contrast, four figures stood in silence. Two were huge men, Henrik and Lars, Olaf’s two closest friends. The first held a walrus tusk horn. The second a bow and one arrow.

Between them, overshadowed in height, though not importance, were a middle-aged woman and a youth. Gretchen, the proud wife of Olaf for 20 years. Her loving husband named his prize warship in her honour. And their eldest surviving son, Erik. Like his mother, tall, lean and blond, but with his father’s piercing iron grey eyes. His left hand tenderly lay on her shoulder.

The blood-red Sun dyed the ocean crimson. Erik raised his right hand. The warriors fell quiet. Henrik sounded the horn three times. Lars aimed his bow, and shot. A flaming arrow appeared to pass through the Sun, then fall, igniting the Gretchen’s deck. Soon the ship was fiercely ablaze [aided by a coating of oil or pitch]. The warriors gave a loud cheer. Lars breathed easily. He only had one shot, and succeeded!

The ropes were cut, and the burning Gretchen set adrift. The warriors watched her send their revered Chief into the coming Night of the Otherworld. Stars shone brightly in the Heavens. Tonight they would feast and drink [a kind of ‘wake’] in Olaf‘s memory. Erik and Gretchen would preside over the proceedings. With a new day, Erik, as Olaf’s chosen successor, would be officially proclaimed the new Chief. [‘The King is dead. Long live the King.‘] The whole cycle would start over… .

The past is connected to the future. Your dream is very significant this is symbolic and prophetic.

Laurie (Laucashel)

[JON]

The past is connected to the future. Your dream is very significant this is symbolic and prophetic.

Thanks Laurie (Laucashel) for your reply. The dream was a fascinating one full of striking images and symbolism. I'm sure that what occured, as regards the ceremony, was authentic. [I await to hear on this point.] The Vikings certainly knew how to send someone to the Afterlife with style!

Cheers, Jon.

BTW, Part Two is now posted....

[Jennings]

Jon, are you certain you do not reside on the Shetland Isles rather than hiding in a bunker somewhere in England?

[JON]

Jon, are you certain you do not reside on the Shetland Isles rather than hiding in a bunker somewhere in England?

No, I think I'd know!

On both sides of my family I have Scottish ancestry. But more on Dad's side. His father was a Scottish farmer who married a Devonian. His mother's family had two distinct 'lines' of descent, one from Scotland. [The other Anglo-Saxon.] I did some research and this Scots 'line' was of Viking origin! Generations of males had thick blond curls in their youth. And were predominantly blue-eyed. Childhood photos of me, my uncle and cousins can get easily confused!!

Cheers, Jon.

[JON]

The Raven

In Norse myth it was sacred to Odin, Chief God and War God. But also the legendary standard of Denmark, the 'Landeyda'. It was said that if the Danes were to be defeated, the raven hung its wings. If they were to be victorious, the wings were raised upward. As though beckoning the warriors to follow it.

I can't recall, though, if the raven on Olaf's banner and shields had its wings up or down. As it was never revealed how he died. But only those slain in battle, it was believed, were carried by the Warrior-Maidens, the Valkyries, to Valhalla ['Hall of the Slain']. This prestigious after-life locale was sited next to Asgard ['Realm of the Gods'].