Saga of Uthred

Feb 3, 2020 | Fantasy, Poetry

Let me sing thou a song,
About the priestess’ son,
Who wandered for so long.
And who was destined to won,

The War of the Gods.
No mere mortal could stand,
But Uthred had the favour of odds.
For he was neither god nor mortal…

He was born far north,
Beliy Bereg was it called.
Son to a holy priestess,
He grew up fatherless.

A blessing he was,
To a lonely mother,
Who had no lover,
Given by the gods.

On a dark day,
Raiders form the Bereg,
Whom sailed under fog of grey,
To ambush the village of Beliy Bereg.

Warriors were slaughtered,
The raiders pillaged, murdered and raped.
The chapel was stained,
The village was flamed.

Little Uthred was taken,
He was slave among many,
Working in the pits and mills.
But he has not forsaken…

He grew up to be strong,
Mighty, the biggest of many.
He worked to flee all along,
Thus he crushed the jailor’s skull.

Uthred was captured,
Chained and hauled,
The chief of Skavír was raptured.
For he was merciful,

Uthred was thrown in the arena,
To fight for the chief,
To amuse, to battle in the arena.
He won so many times for the chief,

Bringing him glory and gold,
They gave him training, women,
And all sort of reward.
He had everything but freedom…

The Clan of Skavír saw kin,
The chief saw a weapon in him.
They took Uthred into their ranks,
But Uthred has never forgave.

He sailed and raided with them,
He even rivalled the chief.
And on one marked day,
He put his ax onto the skull of Skavír.

Uthred took the skull of his foe,
It was a trophy wore on the pauldron.
But in a way to foreshadow,
The fate of those who crossed him.

The clan did not see it as a betrayer
He was a usurper,
But this was the way of the clan.
The stronger always leads the clan.

He had not taken the mantle,
Left the clan to fight among themselves.
Returned to the Bereg,
But only found ruins there…

He grew strong during the ages.
Now seeking destiny,
To rival his father,
The God of War.

He did not know the truth,
At the time, of whose son he is.
But he never sought it.
He wanted to forge his own path.

He arrived to Bjorn,
House of Jarl Pactur.
A giant held the hold in terror.
No one dared to challenge.

But Uthred was no coward!
“I fight for reward!”
He said proudly.
The jarl promised generously.

It was more than enough,
To make him fight.
He journeyed to Skullberg,
To find the giant of the berg.

They called the monster
For bones he milled,
And soups he filled.

Uthred entered the giant’s cave.
Found him awake.
Quarrelled they for hours,
But glory is ours.

So that I can sing,
A saga about a hero,
Whom emerged from the ring.
Folk’ sang about the hero.

It was as thou might think.
He dragged the torso down,
The jarl invited Uthred for a drink.
Pactur was so relieved, almost swown.

The Jarl of Bjorn paid in gold,
And entitled Uthred,
In his hour of blindfold,
The thane of Bjorn.

Since that day we know him,
Utherd of Bjorn.
But your fate was ever grim.
O’ thane of Bjorn.

This was the legend
Of the slayer of the giant.
Thou might think ‘tis the end of it,
But this was merely the beginning…

He skinned the giant,
And wore his ribcage as armour.
Utherd took a part form his enemies,
And wore them as trophies.

It made him look fearful,
Less and less dared to challenge him.
He was a fearless bounty hunter
All knew his name.

He wore the hide of a bear,
A once mighty bear.
The Terror of Skald Vale.
Uthred defeated the Men-eating beast,

Killed it with his bare hands.
No mortal could match him.
He worked for kings, jarls and clans.
It mattered not until he got the gold of his.

But as time passed,
Ages, centuries went by,
People started to forgot his legend.
Even his name…

Utherd seemed to not age,
His hair and beard greyed,
But his body never weakened.
He killed everything that ever crawled,

Or walked, or flown at one time
Or another.
But he could not find his destiny.
Only death…

Sometimes he found love,
In women’s arms,
Sometimes more, other times less.
Let me tell you a secret,

In the ports of Christiania,
Dirty tongues say,
Uthred even bedded,
Gertrude the Fair.

The High King was in rage,
He ordered his death,
But Uthred yet unable to die,
Just got banished, never to return.

Gods test those who are worthy,
And it was not different,
An ancient white stag appeared,
And Uthred hunted it, chased it.

Only the strongest have the honour,
Of slaying a White Stag.
He took the stag’s indestructible skull,
And a branch form the World Tree.

He crafted a weapon from them.
A mighty weapon fitting…
Fitting even a demigod.
One that can challenge them.

He was summoned,
By the God of War.
The sound of drumming,
And the smell of roasted boar

Filled the great halls.
There his father has greeted Uthred.
Uthred heard the calls,
Yet he was ignorant.

His rage and hatred was unending.
Wanted to be part of nothing,
He defied the will of Gods,
He turned his back on the Gods.

They let him suffer,
They let his mother suffer,
They just watched,
Never acted.

And now,
Despite all of this,
The Gods wanted him to bow,
Wanted his help after all of this.

He refused…
This enraged the Gods.
In his rage,
His father laid a curse upon Uthred.

“You are to wear this mask
‘Till time’s end.
May ‘tis remind thy task.
A skull to hide thyself,

A mask of skull,
May none ever see your face again,
Let ‘tis be a pledge of my will,
Thy endless pain.”

“I will never bend my knee.”
This was his curse.
And it was meant for ever.
At the end, to force…

When he will set foot,
In the halls of great,
He will fulfil what wroot,
The role given to weight.

He wanders ever since,
Never removing his mask.
Searching for a way,
So he may forge his own fate.

To drop the weights,
Which he never asked for.
To find peace,
In our gods forsaken world.

This was the song
Of a hero,
Of one who were strong,
About Uthred of Bjorn.

He denied the will,
Of none others than Gods.
Bearing a curse,
Making it his pride.

Most of us have forgotten him,
His legend lost to the ages.
But he never forgot his fate of grim,
His saga never to written on pages…

Sing the song
Of a long lost traveller,
O the old thane of Bjorn
So he will come back.

I have heard the rumours,
I have seen the signs, blessed,
Some say he wanders,
Ever since, ever unrest…