The year is 1103 AD. King Magnus Barefoot of Norway lies dead, and his three sons—Eystein, Sigurd, and Olaf—are raised to the throne, each crowned before reaching the age of sixteen. The brothers agree to rule jointly, a delicate balance of ambition and loyalty, their authority resting on the shifting allegiances of the warriors their father left behind. As news of Magnus’s death spreads across Europe, Norsemen scattered abroad return home bearing tales of distant lands, of their glory, riches, and opportunity. They urge their young kings to follow in their father’s footsteps and seek renown beyond Norway’s fjords. What might have been a burden, dividing a kingdom among three rulers, soon becomes a blessing. The elder brothers, Eystein and Sigurd, debate which of them should remain to govern and which should lead their warriors abroad. When it is decided that Sigurd will go, neither he nor his countrymen can yet imagine that the expedition before him will become one of legend. For these Norsemen—once feared across Christendom as pagan raiders—would now march south as devout warriors of the Cross.
“To Jerusalem he came,
He who loves war’s noble game,
(The skald no greater monarch finds
Beneath the heaven’s wide hall of winds)
All sin and evil from him flings
In Jordan’s wave: for all his sins
(Which all must praise) he pardon wins.”
In the autumn of 1107 AD—four years after his father’s death—King Sigurd gathered a fleet of sixty ships and set his course for the south. His countrymen spoke of the vast wealth of the Romans and the splendors of Constantinople, but before such treasures could be reached, the Northmen would have to brave the waves of the Atlantic and the long passage to the Pillars of Hercules—the Strait of Gibraltar. The first leg of their voyage brought them to the shores of England, now firmly under Norman rule nearly half a century after William the Conqueror’s invasion. There, King Henry I, William’s son, received the Norse king and his retinue as honored guests. Through the winter they remained in England, waiting for the bitter northern winds to yield to the mild breath of spring before pressing onward to warmer seas.
Continuing southward, the Norse fleet made its next halt in Valland—the Norse name for Gaul, or Normandy—where they lingered through the spring and summer months. When autumn came, they set sail once more, reaching the rugged shores of Galicia in northern Spain. Here Sigurd chose to spend the second winter of his long voyage. During this season, the young king began the first of many martial exploits that would mark his crusade. Seeking to secure a steady source of provisions, Sigurd entered into an agreement with a local earl to permit trade and commerce. The pact held only until the year’s end, when the earl abruptly withdrew his support, cutting off the Norsemen’s access to supplies. Enraged and unwilling to be denied, Sigurd summoned his warriors and marched against the nearest of the earl’s castles. Outnumbered and unprepared, the Galician defenders fled, leaving the fortress—and its stores of food and treasure—to the victors. Laden with fresh provisions, the Norse fleet took once more to the sea, steering toward the Western coasts of Spain.
Here, among Norman knights and Mediterranean courtiers, the young king from Norway stood as proof that the northern kingdoms had fully entered the Christian world.
The next leg of Sigurd’s journey would begin to define the true character of his mission. Continuing southwards along the coast, the Norse sailed until they came to the castle of Sintre, just north of Lisbon. There, king Sigurd sent his men to do battle with those that held the fortification, “[Who were] many heathens, who from thence plundered Christian people.” From this point onward, the saga no longer describes Sigurd’s enemies simply as rivals or raiders, but as enemies of the faith, a theme that will continue along the rest of their journey to the holy land. It is said that Sigurd took the castle and killed every man within, the latter decision coming from their refusal to be baptised. From this battle the Northern host secured further wealth and spoils which they would carry with them as they traveled.
Only a few miles further to the south, Sigurd led his men to the city of Lisbon itself, which in this time was divided “half Christian and half heathen; for there lies the division between Christian Spain and heathen Spain, and all the districts which lie west of the city are occupied by heathens.” Sigurd resolved himself to continue fighting the perceived enemies of Christendom wherever he found them, and so did battle here as well. From here it seems he made a quick campaign across the countryside, coming to a town known as Alkasse where he had yet another battle with the ‘heathens’ of the area, gaining another victory and leaving the town abandoned.
Though his battles on the mainland of Iberia came to an end at Alkasse, Sigurd was not resolved to be done just yet. Boarding their ships once more, the Norse army continued along the Iberian coast until they came to the Balearic Islands. There off the Eastern coast of Iberia, Sigurd led his men to battle with another ‘heathen’ force at the island of Forminterra. Interestingly, this battle is recorded in more detail than his previous engagements in Lisbon and Alkasse, painting a more detailed picture of the scene. “Moors had taken up their dwelling in a cave, and had built a strong stone wall before its mouth. They harried the country all round, and carried all their booty to their cave.” The Norwegians landed on the island and assaulted the cave stronghold held by the Moorish pirates. They utilized a cunning plan to overcome the defensive position of their enemy by having two ships rigged in a sort of pulley system. They were then lowered along the rocky face of the island cliffs so that men inside the ships could pass above the stone wall and attack the pirates with arrow fire from above. After the pirates fled the stone wall, the Norse assaulted the fortification and drove all of them back into the deeper sections of the cave. Hoping to drive them out once and for all, Sigurd ordered a large bonfire lit at the cave entrance to smoke out their foes. “When the fire and smoke got the upper hand, some of the heathens lost their lives in it; some fled; some fell by the hands of the Northmen; and part were killed, part burned; and the Northmen made the greatest booty they had got on all their expeditions.”
For these Norsemen—once feared across Christendom as pagan raiders—would now march south as devout warriors of the Cross.
After this battle at Forminterra, Sigurd continued to Ibiza and Minorca, only a short sail away but no less dangerous. There, the Norse chroniclers again describe two more clashes with local fighters who had long made war on passing Christians. The battles were clear Norse successes, and they became known as part of the young king’s notable victories against the Muslim forces of the western Mediterranean. These island campaigns, though a detour from the main goal of reaching Jerusalem, helped define Sigurd’s journey as more than a pilgrimage. They cast him in the eyes of his men and in Norwegian memory as a war-king who brought Christian arms to bear not just in the Holy Land but wherever he judged the faith threatened. And not only did they fight for the faith, they filled the hulls of their longships with enough wealth to sustain themselves as they prepared to sail onward toward Sicily, Constantinople, and, at last, the sacred city of Jerusalem.
With the Balearic Islands behind them, Sigurd and his fleet at last entered the central Mediterranean. The longships that had once prowled the cold seas of the north now cut through warmer waters, carrying warriors hardened by years of fighting and laden with spoils. Their next great stop was the island of Sicily, then ruled by Roger II, a Norman whose own rise to power was similar in many ways to Sigurd’s, born of conquest, ambition, and the fusion of cultures at the edge of Christendom.
The meeting between the two men was marked by ceremony and mutual respect. Roger received Sigurd not as a wandering raider, but as a fellow monarch and crusader. The Norsemen were feasted and honored, and the saga notes the admiration stirred by Sigurd’s bearing and the size of his fleet. Here, among Norman knights and Mediterranean courtiers, the young king from Norway stood as proof that the northern kingdoms had fully entered the Christian world. The saga claims that Roger welcomed Sigurd with such hospitality that, during the final day of feasting, Sigurd himself led Roger to the high seat and publicly hailed him as king. According to the sagas, until this point Roger was recognized as the Duke of Sicily, but not king. The high honor afforded to him by Sigurd was a display of the Northern king’s own prestige, but also as someone with influence that could affect the wider Christian world. After their time warmly spent in Sicily, Sigurd took on fresh supplies and prepared for the most sacred leg of his journey. Leaving Roger’s court behind, the fleet turned eastward toward the Levant and the lands where Christ had walked and holy wars were fought.
Further Reading:
Cross and Scepter: The Rise of the Scandinavian Kingdoms from the Vikings to the Reformation by Sverre Bagge
Medieval Scandinavia: From Conversion to Reformation circa 800-1500 by Birgit and Peter Sawyer
Heimsksringla by Snorri Sturluson
Image is Everything: The Morkinskinna Account of King Sigurðr of Norway’s Journey to the Holy Land by Ármann Jakobsson
The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading by Jonathan Riley-Smith