No sooner was Thyra the wife of Olaf, than she began to complain of her poverty. She had only what her husband was disposed to allow her, which, though equal to her wants, did not suit her dignity as queen of Norway. Yet, in Pomerania, she had ample possessions, which, if restored to her, would enrich her, and make her no longer burdensome to him: Borislaf, she was sure, would, if asked by Olaf, quietly surrender the domains. By degrees, she prevailed on him to equip a fleet for the coast of Pomerania. In the summer of the year 1000, he departed on this expedition. On the confines of Sweden, he married his sister, Ingeborg, to Rognevald, a prince of that nation; and then, proceeding on his voyage, soon reached the coast of Pomerania. In the mean time, the arts of Sigrida prevailed, and Sweyn resolved to join the enemies of Olaf. Actuated by ambition, no less than by the hope of revenge, he wished to obtain some portion of a kingdom which, before the time of Halfdan the Black, had frequently been subdued by his ancestors; and to punish Olaf for presuming to marry his sister without his consent. Nor had Sigrida much difficulty in prevailing on her near kinsman, Olaf of Sweden, to join her husband in the war. Eric, the exiled son of Hako the jarl, whom Olaf had succeeded, and who had always found a welcome home in Denmark and Sweden, acceded to the confederation. But a more formidable opponent still was Sigvald, a pirate chief of Jomsberg, whose close connection with the Danish court has been related.[226] Sigvald was the more dangerous from his treachery. So far from openly declaring war against the Norwegian, he met that monarch, for whom he professed the highest esteem, and whom it was his object to detain on the coast of Pomerania, until the united forces of Denmark and Sweden arrived to crush him. At length, when he knew the hostile fleets were in the Danish islands, he persuaded Olaf to return, the office of pilot being intrusted to him. With his own ships—which were eleven in number—in the van, he led the Norwegian fleet into the midst of the enemy, who lay concealed near the present Stralsund. Not all the ships, however, were there; some had taken to the open sea; so that Olaf, with only a portion of his armament, was suddenly assailed by overwhelming numbers of the enemy. With his usual gallantry he defended himself, and great was the carnage which he made among the hostile ranks. But the contest was too unequal; the valiant champions of Norway fell round their master; the Long Serpent, as the ship of Olaf was called, was boarded by the son of Hako; a desperate struggle on the deck followed; and when few of the Norwegians remained alive, Olaf, with three or four of them, plunged into the sea, and was seen no more. Such, at least, is the relation of Snorro, which is supported by reason; but the two Icelandic biographers of this king—Gunlaug and Oddur—insist that he saved himself by swimming,