Arn rode for the first time with a squadron of retainers from the funeral ale at Varnhem to Arnas. Sixteen men including Sune, Sigfrid, and Torgils Eskilsson had accompanied Cecilia on the alternate route down to Varnhem, along the sh.o.r.e of Lake Vattern.

The young retainers from Forsvik had drawn many curious looks at Varnhem; only the three eldest had reached the age of eighteen. Their horses were not saddled and equipped like those of others; their flanks and chests were covered with cloth in the Folkung colours. A few people had stepped forward to look at the stout black leather straps running beneath the cloth; they also pinched here and there and found that beneath a thin layer with the Folkung colours was a thick layer with chain mail sewn in as protection from arrows. The fact that only three of the retainers had reached the age of grown men also seemed odd, but even the very young in Arn Magnusson's retinue carried their weapons with great self-confidence, and they rode like few men in Western Gotaland could ride.

Arn realized that with this unavoidable display he had opened up a new reservoir in the flood of rumours about what was going on at Forsvik. But he hadn't wanted to call Cecilia to the king's funeral without providing her with the protection on the road that honour demanded.

In a single day they had ridden from Varnhem up to Arnas without straining themselves or the horses very much. As usual, Cecilia was using a regular saddle with a foot in each stirrup. Riding her own Umm Anaza she had no difficulty keeping up with the group of young squires.

They did not stop in Skara because they had brought no carts to carry any purchases. All their baggage was tied up in saddlebags on two extra pack horses. Outside Skara the road was swarming with peasants on their way in and out of town with their carts since it was market day, and the blue column drew much attention and astonished glances as it thundered past. There was an ominous, secret power about these riders, and everybody could sense it. They could see that these hors.e.m.e.n represented a growing Folkung power. But whether it was a good or bad power, whether it was protection for the peace or a portent of war, no one could tell.

They took the road over Kinnekulle to visit stonemaster Marcellus, who was now working at the quarry on the adornments for the new church in Forshem. He already had many sculptures ready, one that roused the admiration of all, and one that made Arn blush and stammer in a way that no one had seen before.

The image that they all admired was intended to sit above the doorway of the church; it showed the Lord Jesus giving to Saint Peter the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven and handing to Saint Paul the book with which he was to spread the Christian teaching all over the world. Above Lord Jesus's head there was a Templar cross and a text carved in good Latin which read: 'This church is consecrated to Our Lord Jesus Christ and the Holy Sepulchre.'

Both the picture and the text were meant to inspire devotion in the onlooker. It was as though they were looking at the very moment itself, though it never could have taken place in the realm of the senses. But for G.o.d, time and s.p.a.ce did not exist; He was everywhere at the same time, so the image was just as true as it was beautiful. Arn felt a great emotion in his breast, almost a trembling sensation, at being granted the grace to be involved in building this church dedicated to His Grave. Even though the construction of the church itself had a long way to go, this image was a portent of what was to come.

But the image that stunned Arn and made him feel alternately ashamed and incensed, showed the Lord Jesus accepting the keys to the church from a knight and then blessing the church with his right hand; a stonecutter sat nearby, bent over with a hammer and chisel as he worked on the church. It was obviously supposed to represent Arn giving the church to G.o.d, while Marcellus built it. It was not outright blasphemy, but it was an unreasonable way to boast of his deed.

Marcellus took a lighter view of his sculpture. He thought it merely expressed a worldly truth and a good example for human beings. For a thousand years rapturous observers would see how Arn, a Templar knight, had donated this church. Wasn't that precisely the thought that should be expressed by dedicating the church to G.o.d's Grave? Instead of seeking out G.o.d's Grave in war and death in the Holy Land, true believers should seek it out in their own hearts. They had discussed this the first time they met and concluded their agreement in Skara.

Arn did not remember exactly, but he thought that exalting himself in an image standing next to the Lord Jesus was sheer pride, and that was a grave sin.

Marcellus said again that there was no pride in saying that Arn Magnusson built this church and dedicated it to G.o.d's Grave. That was simply the truth.

Arn was glad that there was plenty of time to change things before the church would be finished and consecrated.

The travellers stopped at Arnas for only one day, mostly because Arn wanted to walk all the way around the fortifications and examine all the details. Everything to do with the outer defences of the castle was finished. From now on they could spend as many years as they liked on the inner defences and household comforts rather than war. The residence, which was three stories high and built of stone, was almost done; they would be able to move in this winter. All that was left to build were the big storehouses for grain, dried fish, and fodder for the horses and livestock; enough to withstand a long siege. The rest were simpler tasks for which the most skilled builders in the world were no longer needed. The outer walls, towers, gates, and drawbridges were ready. That was the important thing. At Forsvik the work on the thick chains for the drawbridges and portcullises had just been completed.

The old tower keep at Arnas had now become an armoury for the storage of weapons and valuables. In the high chamber there were several rows of wooden casks stuffed full of more than ten thousand arrows; the chamber below held crossbows, swords, and lances. Even now Arnas was ready to resist a siege from a very strong foe. But as it looked at the moment, no war was on the horizon, so there was plenty of time to finish up everything they had planned. Soon Arnas would be an impregnable fortress where many hundreds of Folkungs could seek shelter, regardless of who was threatening outside the walls.

Torgils, who had not been home to Arnas since Christmas, decided to stay for a few days with his father Eskil, and Arn's party then set off toward Forsvik. They left at the crack of dawn in order to complete their journey in a single day instead of spending the night at Askeberga.

When they neared Forsvik that evening, the alarm was rung on the big bell, and within moments all the young men and grooms stormed out towards the horses. When Arn and Cecilia and their party rode into Forsvik, three squadrons stood lining the main street. Bengt Elinsson, who was the only commander left at Forsvik, had positioned his horse three paces in front of the others. He first drew his sword, and then the others did the same, and that was how they greeted Sir Arn and Fru Cecilia's return.

Arn rode up to Bengt, thanked him briefly, took over command, and ordered all the young men to return to whatever they were doing before the alarm sounded.

The following days at Forsvik were heavy with the bittersweet sorrow of parting. The five years for which Arn had hired his Saracen men were now over. Those who wanted to leave would do so soon, for the big ship with dried fish from Lofoten was expected in Lodose. With that ship those returning home would sail to Bjorgvin, the largest city on the west coast of Norway. From there ships went constantly to Lisboa in Portugal, and then they would be almost in the lands of the faithful.

Only half of the foreigners wanted to return home. Among them were the two physicians Ibrahim and Yussuf, who were sure that their services would prove much more useful in the Almohad Empire in Andalusia. The two Englishmen John and Athelsten also wanted to leave, but for them it was easier, since ships occasionally sailed between Lodose and England, where Eskil had in recent years begun to expand his trade routes.

Half of the builders who worked on Arnas would travel the same way as Ibrahim and Yussuf; they found it difficult to live with the true faith in a land whose very existence G.o.d seemed to have forgotten. The other half of the builders perhaps had a more forgiving view of G.o.d's memory, although their decision to stay was probably due to the fact that many of them, like Ardous from Al Khalil, already had a wife and children.

The two feltmakers Aibar and Bulent were also unwilling to leave. They knew they could get from Bjorgvin to Lisboa, but from there it was an unfathomably long journey to Anatolia. Besides, their home villages had long since been burned and laid waste by both Christians and the faithful. They no longer had any other home.

The brothers Jacob and Marcus Wachtian had long since begun to adopt Nordic customs; both had been speaking the local language fluently for quite a while.

Surprisingly, Jacob had also come back from one of his trips to Lubeck with a wife to whom he claimed to be lawfully wedded before G.o.d. Her name was Gretel, and she was rumoured to have been deserted by her betrothed in Lubeck on the very day of their wedding. But she found swift consolation in the arms of the foreign Armenian merchant Jacob. There was something not quite credible about that story, but no one at Forsvik found any reason to argue. For Jacob's part it would be unthinkable to leave. His Gretel refused to return to her own country for some reason; nor did she want to go to Armenia, and besides, she was expecting a child.

Marcus had no desire to travel alone. He had no woman to amuse himself with as his brother did, which he furtively pointed out to Arn from time to time, but life at Forsvik was good. And it was a delight to invent new ways to use water power, or build new weapons or tools for their work. Although with a woman it would certainly be easier.

Arn decided to accompany the faithful and the Englishmen to Lodose so that no harm would come to them on their last journey through the land of the infidels. He reckoned that the faithful would be safe as soon as they boarded the ship for Bjorgvin, and he had no qualms about leaving the Englishmen to themselves in Lodose.

It was a sombre farewell, and many friends who had worked hard together for five years wept openly when the travellers went aboard the riverboats that would take them to Lake Vanern and then on bigger ships to the Gota River. It was a relief for all when the farewell was done and the riverboats disappeared around the first bend on the way out onto Lake Viken. Arn and Cecilia were both glad that so many of the foreigners had chosen to stay, for their work and skills were invaluable. It was still difficult to get the apprentices among the freedmen to do the tasks that took many years to learn well.

Arn had a heavy heart when he returned from Lodose a week later. The most difficult had been parting with old Ibrahim and Yussuf, and the turcopoles Ali and Mansour; the art of those physicians could never be replaced at Forsvik. And even though the young men who had been in service longest had developed commendable skill on horseback, especially when compared to other men in the North, it would be a long time before they could ride like such Syrian warriors as Ali and Mansour. For them, weapons and horsemanship were their daily bread.

But contracts were contracts and had to be upheld. It was a consolation that half of the Saracens had chosen to stay, and Arn had to consider how much had been accomplished to secure the peace during those five years.

And yet he was not in the best of moods when he sat at the table eating and Gure came to him with two workshop lads that he didn't recognize. At first he doubted the explanation they managed to stammer forth. He didn't remember promising that they could be apprenticed at Forsvik. They were not Folkungs, and it was evident from far off that they were thrall boys or the son of a freedman. First he asked them sternly where they got these dreams from and whether they knew it was a grave sin to tell a lie. But then they recounted how he had come to Askeberga the first time, how they had called to him in the doorway, and how he had spoken with them in the barnyard. Then he finally remembered the incident. It made him thoughtful, and he pondered silently for a good while before he made his decision. Sigge and Orm waited with great anguish; Gure was clearly surprised.

'Gure, take these boys to Sigfrid Erlingsson,' he said at last. 'Say that they shall start in the youngest group of tenderfeet, and see to it that they receive clothing and weapons in due time.'

'But master, these boys are in no way Folkungs,' Gure objected.

'I know that,' said Arn. 'They are only sons of a freedman. But we had an agreement, and a Folkung must always honour his word.'

Gure shrugged and took Sigge and Orm with him. They both looked as if they wanted to yell and jump for joy; only with great difficulty did they manage to restrain themselves.

Arn sat at the table for a long while, his plate of food half eaten. He was asking himself a very strange question that had never occurred to him before. Could a person only be born a Folkung, or could he become one? Certainly not everyone born a Folkung was superior, while all others were inferior.

The Rule of the Knights Templar said that only a man whose father bore a coat of arms could be admitted as a brother in the order. Others would have to be content to be sergeants. On more than one occasion he had seen knight-brothers who would have made better sergeants, and vice versa.

And what rule said that you couldn't make good men into Folkungs, just as you could inject new blood into a breed of horse? By breeding the heavy, powerful Gothic horses with the fast, agile Arabian horses they were about to develop a new breed that would be more suited to heavy cavalry. That was the next big venture they were going to start at Forsvik. It was a matter of combining the best of the Arabian and the Gothic breeds, just as they worked with different layers of iron and steel when making swords at Forsvik. Why not make Folkungs the same way?

Although he did have to see to it that those two lads were rebaptized, if they had ever been baptized at all. No Folkung hors.e.m.e.n could be called Sigge and Orm.

Sverker Karlsson arrived at Nas, travelling with a stately retinue of a hundred hors.e.m.e.n from Denmark, intending to move in with his people. He had waited with his journey until the end of the year when the ice lay thick and solid on Lake Vattern.

After the New Year he summoned all the prominent men among the Folkungs, Eriks and Swedes to the king's Nas to elect him after he took his oath. Three days of feasting would follow.

Never had so many red mantles been seen at Nas, not even during the reign of King Karl Sverkersson. It was not merely the Sverker colour, for also among the Danes red was most common. Erik jarl, who had been at Nas when the Sverkers arrived, whispered in disgust to Arn that it looked like a river of blood had come running across the ice.

Birger Brosa, his brother Folke, and Erik jarl were the only worldly men in the king's new council who were not Danes or Sverkers. Eskil had been forced to give up his seat on the council when Sverker declared that such serious matters as the trade of the kingdom must be left in the hands of more knowledgeable Danes. For marshal he appointed his friend Ebbe Sunesson, who was related to the Folkungs at Arnas, since his kinsman Konrad was married to Arn and Eskil's half-sister Kristina. Sverker thought that this kinship was like a bridge between the Danes and the Folkungs.

Archbishop Petrus beamed like a sun and praised G.o.d over and over because finally, in His infinite wisdom and justice, He had brought home the son of the murdered King Karl to the crown of the Goths and Swedes. With that, G.o.d's will was done, Petrus a.s.sured them.

But Sverker would not be allowed to wear the crown before he swore in front of the whole council and the royal ting ting of notables to uphold the law and justice with the help of G.o.d. He also had to swear that he renounced all claim to the crown for his kinsmen, since Erik jarl was the one next in line for the crown. And after Erik jarl followed his younger brothers Jon, Joar, and Knut, who would now live in the realm with all the rights pertaining to sons of the king. of notables to uphold the law and justice with the help of G.o.d. He also had to swear that he renounced all claim to the crown for his kinsmen, since Erik jarl was the one next in line for the crown. And after Erik jarl followed his younger brothers Jon, Joar, and Knut, who would now live in the realm with all the rights pertaining to sons of the king.

Archbishop Petrus, who administered the oath, had in several places attempted to skip one thing and another but was immediately reprimanded by both the Swedes and Goths. Only when everything was truly legal did the ting ting of the whole kingdom swear its allegiance to King Sverker for as long as he lived and as long as he kept his vow. of the whole kingdom swear its allegiance to King Sverker for as long as he lived and as long as he kept his vow.

During the three days of feasting, the Danes showed how a royal feast was conducted out in the great world, with jousting between knights who rode at each other with lance and shield. Only the Danes took part in these games, since the new masters took it for granted that no man up in backward Western Gotaland or Svealand could fight on horseback. And judging by the many admiring and astonished expressions that King Sverker could observe among his new subjects, these knightly arts, which had already been long established in Denmark, were something no one had ever seen up here in the North.

Arn watched closely, keeping his face expressionless as he observed the actions of the Danish knights. Some were not half bad, others were as lax as he had expected. None of them would have pa.s.sed muster even as sergeants in the Order of Knights Templar, but on Nordic battlefields they would be hard to combat. If they were going to overcome these Danes out on the open field, it would require another few years of training at Forsvik. But their lead was no bigger than that.

During the feast days King Sverker and his marshal Ebbe Sunesson spent their time mostly in the great hall surrounded by Danish courtiers, summoning the important men in the kingdom one by one for discussions. Birger Brosa made the introductions. King Sverker was always careful to be friendly and to treat Folkungs and Eriks like his own Sverker kinsmen.

When it was Eskil and Arn's turn to go before the king and his Danish courtiers, Birger Brosa announced that Eskil was a merchant and previously sat on King Knut's council and was the heir to the estate Arnas. About Arn he said only that he had spent much of his life in the cloister, also in Denmark, and now was the master of the forest estate of Forsvik.

Arn exchanged a quick, puzzled glance with Birger Brosa about his somewhat incomplete description of what Arn had done in between his childhood years at the cloister and his present life at Forsvik. Birger Brosa merely winked back, unnoticed by anyone else.

King Sverker was happy to speak with someone who had no difficulty understanding the speech of the Danes; many of the slow Swedes seemed to find the language incomprehensible. And for Arn it was easy to fall back into the language he had spoken as a child. He still sounded more like a Dane than a Gothic man.

At first the conversation revolved around innocent topics such as how beautiful it was on the sh.o.r.e of Limfjord near the cloister of Vitskl, and about the mussel cultivation they had tried at the cloister without much success, since people living on the fjord believed that it was contrary to G.o.d's word to eat mussels. That was no longer so, King Sverker a.s.sured him. Then he invited Arn and Eskil to visit Denmark with his letter of safe pa.s.sage so that they might see their half-sister Kristina. When the brothers did not look as though this journey was of great interest to them, the king promised instead to invite both Kristina and her husband Konrad Pedersson to Nas sometime next summer. He was clearly trying to demonstrate that all old animosities had been forgotten.

So it seemed both tactless and unnecessary of marshal Ebbe Sunesson to remember suddenly how he had once gotten into a little fight at Arnas with one of their kinsmen. But of course they bore no hard feelings about that, did they?

He had spoken calmly but with an irritating smirk on his face. Birger Brosa shook his head to warn Arn, who with great difficulty controlled himself before he replied that the one who had died was their brother Knut. He said that they both prayed for their brother's soul, but that neither of them had a mind for revenge.

There Ebbe Sunesson should have let it rest. He may have drunk too much during the festivities, or perhaps he was elated because he had been the victor in the jousting contest. Or it could be that he and his friends had already convinced themselves that they had become lords of folk that were not worthy of respect. For what he now said made both Birger Brosa and King Sverker blanch, although for different reasons.

With open scorn he explained to Arn and Eskil that they didn't need to feel in the least embarra.s.sed. If it was so that they had not received their just honour after their brother's regrettable death, he would gladly meet one of them with the sword. Or why not both at once? Then it would only be a question of whether they had enough honour and enough courage.

Arn looked down at the stone floor and with great effort stifled his first impulse to propose a duel. It must have looked as if he were ashamed because he dared not take up the challenge that had been delivered with words as clear as a slap in the face.

When the silence had become unbearable, he raised his head and said calmly that upon reflection he found it unwise for the new king and his men to begin their time in the land of the Swedes and Goths with blood. In either case, whether Herr Ebbe killed yet another Folkung from Arnas, or he himself killed the king's marshal, this would not benefit King Sverker or the peace they all desired.

The king then placed his hand on Ebbe Sunesson's arm and prevented him from answering, which he seemed all too eager to do. The king said that he felt honoured that among those who had sworn allegiance to him there were good men like Eskil and Arn Magnusson who understood how to place the peace of the realm before their own honour.

They did not reply, but bowed and left without another word. Arn had to step outside in the cold air at once, since he was boiling with humiliation. Eskil hurried after to a.s.sure him that nothing good would have come of it if a Folkung, in the very first week of King Sverker's reign, had killed his marshal. And besides, these insulting words could have been avoided if Birger Brosa had been a bit more accurate in his description of what sort of cloister life Arn had lived. As things now stood, the arrogant marshal had no idea how close to death he had come.

'I still can't understand what G.o.d had in mind by placing our brother's murderer within a single sword-length of me,' Arn muttered between clenched teeth.

'If G.o.d wants to bring the two of you together with weapons, then He will do so. That was apparently not His intention just now,' said Eskil, at a loss.

ELEVEN.

The only news from Nas during King Sverker's first two years which pleased the Folkungs and Eriks was that by the second Christmas ale, Archbishop Petrus had eaten himself to death. Otherwise they heard very little, either good or bad. It was as if whatever had to do with the highest power in the realm was no longer of any concern to the Folkungs and Eriks.

Not even when King Sverker sent a crusade to the east did he find any reason to ask for help from the Folkungs and Eriks; instead he allied himself with the Danes and Gotlanders. Of course it was not much of a crusade. The intention was for the Sverkers to be sent by ship to Courland to save the country once again for the true faith and bring home anything of value that they might find. But a southerly storm drove the two hundred vessels with the crusaders north so that they landed in Livonia instead. There they plundered for three days, loaded their spoils of war on board ship, and then went home.

Surely it was of little importance to have missed out on three days of plundering, but the Swedes up in the dark North Woods were especially insulted that they hadn't been trusted to send a single fylking fylking of troops or a single ship, and that the king and his Danes thought so little of them. of troops or a single ship, and that the king and his Danes thought so little of them.

For the Folkungs at Arnas and Forsvik it was actually an advantage that the new king disdained their services, because it meant that they could spend their time on more useful endeavours. At Arnas, villages were built inside the walls as wells were dug and the storehouses were completed. At Forsvik Cecilia's ledgers were finally showing a profit.

This was partially due to the gla.s.s from Forsvik that was now being sold in Linkoping and Skara, Strangnas, orebro, Vastra Aros and ostra Aros, and even in Norway. And a considerable number of young men had spent so many years as apprentices that it was now time for them to return home. When they did so, it was their responsibility to equip their own estates and teach their own retainers and archers. They then purchased all of their new weapons from Forsvik. In this way an ever-growing number of the weapons that had been produced for many years without payment in order to arm Arnas and Bjalbo now began to provide Forsvik with an income. Unlike the story in the Holy Scriptures, they had endured seven lean years before the fat years had come. But when the tide indeed began to turn, Cecilia at first did her calculations several times, since she thought there must be some mistake. Instead of silver flowing out, it had begun to flow in, and at an increasingly rapid pace.

These last years before the turn of the thirteenth century, which according to some doomsayers and prelates would bring the end of the world, were tranquil times for the Folkungs, but they also involved a good deal of travelling and many wedding ales.

It no longer seemed of any use for them to marry members of the Sverker clan; that was the opinion of Birger Brosa as well as his brothers Magnus and Folke. And because Eskil had finally had his marriage to the treacherous Katarina annulled, and she had been banished to Gudhem convent for the rest of her life, he had to set a good example. With courtship in mind, he went to Vastra Aros and the regions around the town of Sigtuna. There he soon found what he was seeking in the person of Bengta Sigmundsdotter from Sigtuna. Her husband had been killed several years earlier when the Estonians arrived on a plundering expedition. But she had been wise, almost as if she had been able to see into the future. Although she and her husband owned the largest trading house in Sigtuna, she had refused to keep all of the riches they had acquired in the city. Instead, she had ordered them transported north to her parents' home. In this way she became one of the few residents in Sigtuna to emerge from the fire as a rich woman.

It might well be that she was not so rich that she could provide a dowry worthy of a marriage with Eskil, but it was unlikely there was such a woman anywhere in the realm. And with widows, the clan was not as strict about such matters; nor was a betrothal ale required, since widows made their own decisions regarding marriage. The bridal ale could be celebrated immediately once Eskil and Bengta had come to an agreement.

The bridal couple were fond of each other, and it was everyone's opinion that they seemed particularly well-matched. For a woman, Bengta was unusually capable of handling business matters, and trade was after all Eskil's great joy in life. From the first day they met they had already started talking about leaving the business in Sigtuna and moving Bengta's trading house either to Visby on Gotland or Lubeck. In that way they would strengthen each other's dealings.

To find a woman from Svealand for young Torgils Eskilsson turned out to be more difficult. But the dowager queen Cecilia Blanca was from there, and after the death of King Knut she could no longer bear to live at Nas even though the new lord, King Sverker, had ingratiatingly told her that she could stay as his guest as long as she liked. Yet that was not the impression that the new king's contemptuous Danes displayed. Her sons Erik jarl, Jon, Joar, and Knut were to be kept more like prisoners in a gilded cage at Nas, but she herself was allowed to leave. She had pretended to set off for Riseberga cloister, which was a befitting residence for a dowager queen with no power, but at Forsvik she had disembarked from the boat, having decided to go no further. The two Cecilias were soon making plans for young Torgils' wedding, and they had decided that the daughter of a chief judge would be best, for judges held a very strong position among the Swedes; it would be important to establish ties to that sort of power.

Once the two Cecilias had decided something, that was how it would be. And so during the following summer a great deal of travelling went on between Western Gotaland and Svealand. After celebrating his own wedding, Eskil set off with his son Torgils, Arn and his son Magnus Mneskold, and a large retinue to Svealand. On their way north to the betrothal ale in darkest Uppland, they stopped to visit many powerful men who were either members of Eskil's new clan or were related to Cecilia Blanca. The betrothal ale between Torgils and Ulrika, who was the daughter of Leif, the judge at Norrgarns estate, a day's journey from ostra Aros, took place around the feast of Saint Laurentius before the harvesting began in Uppland. The bridal ale was celebrated over five days at Arnas later in the autumn.

But the women also did much travelling during this tranquil time. They usually met at Ingrid Ylva's home at Ulvsa, since it was halfway between Forsvik and Ulfshem. This meant that the two Cecilias and Ulvhilde would have only one day's journey in order to meet. Ingrid Ylva and Ulvhilde were both Sverker daughters, Cecilia Blanca was of the Svea clan, and Cecilia Rosa was of the Pl clan from Husaby. Hence the four of them could meet without constantly thinking about Eriks or Folkungs, though they had all married into one of these clans. Ingrid Ylva had already given birth to two sons, and she was expecting her third child that summer when the women spent more time alone than with their husbands. Since Ingrid Ylva's eldest son Birger would soon turn five, the same age as Cecilia Rosa's daughter Alde, there was much talk about how these two must soon be given booklearning and how it might be arranged for them to learn together. Earlier in the year Ulvhilde had sent her boys to a cleric in Linkoping, but it would not be wise to send young Folkungs to the Sverker stronghold during the evil times that were now upon them.

Finally Cecilia Blanca decided that Birger and Cecilia Rosa's little Alde could be given schooling at Forsvik if they could persuade the old monk there to spend less time with the swords and horses, which would do him good. Cecilia Blanca also thought that she, as a queen with nothing to occupy her time, might be of use in a way that would arouse no objections if she too partic.i.p.ated in teaching the children. They all found this to be such a good idea that they decided the very next day to take the first of Eskil's boats to Forsvik and speak with the monk themselves.

And so it was that before long Brother Guilbert found himself in an unexpected position in Forsvik's new great hall. He didn't require much convincing to agree, partly because it was an occupation pleasing to G.o.d to teach young children, and partly because such work would cause less wear on his old body than working with swords and horses. But he grumbled that this was not the task he had been given by Father Guillaume at Varnhem.

Cecilia Blanca dismissed this objection as easily as swatting a fly by saying that what Father Guillaume wanted or did not want when it came to Folkungs and Eriks depended more on the purse of silver than on the spirit.

No matter how much Brother Guilbert may have agreed with such an impudent statement, he went on to say that he also had an agreement with Arn. Then it was Cecilia Rosa's turn to address him, saying that she and not Arn was the owner of Forsvik.

As if grasping for the last straw, Brother Guilbert said finally that he couldn't very well promise anything until Arn came back home. He was instantly urged to admit that if Arn had no objections, he would comply.

And with that the stubborn women smiled contentedly and exchanged victorious glances before they began drinking a great deal of wine and talking so much that Brother Guilbert soon withdrew.

When King Sverker's Danish wife Benedikta died of the fever, there was little cause for sorrow among the Eriks and Folkungs. King Sverker's only daughter Helena was no threat to the crown.

But their dismay was all the greater when a rumour began to spread that jarl Birger Brosa had fetched his last daughter Ingegerd from Riseberga cloister to marry her to the king. As far as anyone knew, Ingegerd was a healthy woman who looked as if she could give birth to any number of sons. Many said that this was the only foolish thing that Birger Brosa had ever done in his long life, and that black clouds were now gathering over the realm.

After King Sverker's first cautious years in power he began concocting bolder plans, and it was also obvious that he had decided to ingratiate himself to the Church and the crowd of bishops. This became almost ridiculously clear when he imitated King Knut of Denmark by promulgating a new law completely on his own, without consulting the council or the ting. ting.

King Knut had declared that he was king by the grace of G.o.d, so he could make any laws he desired. Naturally King Sverker didn't dare make such a statement, but he did claim that he now chose to make laws because he had received what he called 'divine inspiration'.

What exactly he meant by that was obscure, except that of course it had something to do with G.o.d. But his action was also futile because the new law had already been in force for many years. It stated that the Church did not have to pay tax to the king.

When it turned out that the ominous rumour was true about how Birger Brosa himself had provided a fertile, child-bearing woman to the Sverker king, the Folkungs decided to hold a clan ting. ting. The meeting would be held at Bjalbo, since Birger Brosa pleaded old age and poor health. Most people guessed that he would rather be rebuked at home on his own estate, acting as a host rather than as a guest among kinsmen. The meeting would be held at Bjalbo, since Birger Brosa pleaded old age and poor health. Most people guessed that he would rather be rebuked at home on his own estate, acting as a host rather than as a guest among kinsmen.

He did indeed have to endure many harsh words for this last foolhardy marriage arrangement of his. Those who spoke with him admitted that most previous marriages that the old jarl had arranged had been wise and served the cause of peace, but this time it was just the opposite.

Birger Brosa sat slumped in his high seat and at first did little to defend himself. That had always been his approach in his most powerful days, holding back until the end of a conversation and then summing up what the others had said and sticking the sharp sword of his tongue into the crack he would always discover between quarrelling kinsmen.

This time no such crack was discernible, and he had to start explaining his actions much earlier. As so often before he tried to get the hall to quiet down by speaking in a low voice, but this time he was merely admonished to speak louder. He cautiously raised his voice and said that if a king became a widower at a young age as Sverker had, then he was certainly bound to get himself a new queen. And if that had to happen, wouldn't it be better if this queen were of the Folkung clan rather than a foreigner?

Such a course of events was by no means certain, said an angry Magnus Mneskold. For if a king became a widower, he might just as easily decide to marry some dowager queen, and an old crone from Denmark would have been more tolerable to everyone than a lively child-bearer, fetched healthy and ready from safekeeping in the convent.