Eric Brighteyes

You have graciously conveyed to me the intelligence that during the weary weeks spent far from his home — in alternate hope and fear, in suffering and mortal trial — a Prince whose memory all men must reverence, the Emperor Frederick, found pleasure in the reading of my stories: that “they interested and fascinated him.” While the world was watching daily at the bedside of your Majesty’s Imperial husband, while many were endeavouring to learn courage in our supremest need from the spectacle of that heroic patience, a distant writer little knew that it had been his fortune to bring to such a sufferer an hour’s forgetfulness of sorrow and pain. This knowledge, to an author, is far dearer than any praise, and it is in gratitude that, with your Majesty’s permission, I venture to dedicate to you the tale of Eric Brighteyes. The late Emperor, at heart a lover of peace, though by duty a soldier of soldiers, might perhaps have cared to interest himself in a warrior of long ago, a hero of our Northern stock, whose days were spent in strife, and whose latest desire was Rest. But it may not be; like the Golden Eric of this Saga, and after a nobler fashion, he has passed through the Hundred Gates into the Valhalla of Renown. To you, then, Madam, I dedicate this book, a token, however slight and unworthy, of profound respect and sympathy. I am, Madam, Your Majesty’s most obedient servant, H. Rider Haggard. November 17, 1889. To H.I.M. Victoria, Empress Frederick of Germany...FROM THE BOOKS.

There lived a man in the south, before Thangbrand, Wilibald's son, preached the White Christ in Iceland. He was named Eric Brighteyes, Thorgrimur's son, and in those days there was no man like him for strength, beauty and daring, for in all these things he was the first. But he was not the first in good-luck. Two women lived in the south, not far from where the Westman Islands stand above the sea. Gudruda the Fair was the name of the one, and Swanhild, called the Fatherless, Groa's daughter, was the other. They were half-sisters, and there were none like them in those days, for they were the fairest of all women, though they had nothing in common except their blood and hate. Now of Eric Brighteyes, of Gudruda the Fair and of Swanhild the Fatherless, there is a tale to tell.

This autobiography covers the life of the English writer Sir Henry Rider Haggard. Known as a founder of the Lost World literary genre, Haggard's adventure novels were often set in exotic locations.

This deftly crafted Viking tale depicts the terror, tragedy and vanity of life. The ill fated lovers, Eric and Gudruda the Fair, fall victim to the jealous Swanhild's sorcery. Eric and his 'thrall' must overcome treachery, bloodthirsty foes, the open sea and blizzards as he battles to win his beloved Gudruda. Will the star-crossed lovers triumph over the fate of the Norns and the spite of Swanhild?

H. Rider Haggard practically invented the "journey-to-a-lost-civilization" adventure genre, which captured the public's imagination. He traveled the world, spending much time in southern Africa. These exotic experiences influenced all his works. He wrote best-selling adventure stories on a dare. All his writings reflect a deep appreciation of humanity in the midst of extraordinary fantasy and adventure. In all, he wrote over 40 novels. This heirloom edition is part of The Essential Adventure Library, an entertaining collection of hard-to-find adventure stories. Visit www.EssentialLibrary.com to see all the titles in this series.

Madam, You have graciously conveyed to me the intelligence that during the weary weeks spent far from his home-in alternate hope and fear, in suffering and mortal trial-a Prince whose memory all men must reverence, the Emperor Frederick, found pleasure in the reading of my stories: that -they interested and fascinated him.- While the world was watching daily at the bedside of your Majesty's Imperial husband, while many were endeavouring to learn courage in our supremest need from the spectacle of that heroic patience, a distant writer little knew that it had been his fortune to bring to such a sufferer an hour's forgetfulness of sorrow and pain.

Lots of prophesying going on in "Eric Brighteyes" - it seems almost any character is up to it - bad or good, dead or alive. So we know what's going to happen, and so do the protagonists (although they don't seem to make much effort to escape their fate). We may know what's going to happen, but not how, and this is what really matters. There's a lot of fighting and killing - the tragedy is right up there with Hamlet - hardly anyone left alive. I loved the part where Eric gets back from exile and only his old dog is there to greet him - shades of Odysseus all over