by Jan Guillou
Arn then told him without circumlocution about how he had disgraced himself by getting drunk and vomiting, and how that night up at Husaby he had done something with a woman that belonged to the sacrament of marriage. And for these stupidities he felt great remorse.
But Eskil was not at all disturbed to hear this. On the contrary, he laughed out loud so that their father turned around in his saddle up ahead and gave them both a stern look, for the Folkungs were not riding to the ting in order to spread merriment.
In a lower voice but still in a cheerful tone Eskil told Arn that now he understood everything, since it wasn't hard to guess what Arn meant. As for vomiting after consuming too much food and ale, that was nothing to worry about; it merely showed that he had enjoyed the entertainment, and it was good manners. But then there was the matter of Katarina, because she was the one, wasn't she? Well, even if nothing was decided yet, it could well be that he or Arn would end up married to either Katarina or Cecilia. But since Algot Palsson of Husaby was in a bind because he lacked silver yet constantly had to pay out silver, and he had no understanding of such things, it could turn out that his lands would eventually end up within the confines of Arnas, without having to resort to a wedding ale. All the waiting had no doubt caused impatience up there in Husaby, and what Katarina had seen fit to do was simply a way to hasten God's plans in that respect. But that was more worthy of a laugh than a worried frown.
Arn still had a hard time laughing about what had happened. No matter how he twisted and turned the matter, he couldn't escape the thought that he was responsible to God for what he did of his own free will. Even if this free will might be perilously jeopardized because of so much ale. Like Eskil, however, Father Henri had taken a lighter view of this sin than Arn had expected, and although Father Henri had asked many questions, he had come to the same conclusions as Eskil. A lustful and greedy woman had seduced Arn with both ale and such wiles as women use when they are being as sly as snakes. And Arn, who was innocent in more than one respect, had therefore had a difficult time defending himself against these ploys.
That was why Arn had gotten off so easily with ten days' penance, and before God he was absolved of his sin. Even so he had a hard time feeling happy about what should have been a great relief to him. It was as if for the second time he had committed a grave sin and yet had received scant punishment, which had not
made him happy at all, though both Eskil and Father Henri had obviously expected it would. He had a disquieting thought that his sin, even though it was forgiven, was still lodged somewhere inside him. For as he recalled, he had not been especially reluctant after Katarina showed him what he was supposed to do.
King Karl Sverkersson stood on the crest of Axevalla's wall together with his closest men and saw the Folkungs and the Erik clan riding together toward the site of the ting. It was like watching a big blue sea approaching, for the Folkung colors were blue and silver and the Erik clan's blue and gold. The lance points with the fluttering blue pennants were like a forest that stretched farther than the eye could see. They had definitely not come with only a few dozen representatives, known as oath-swearers, but as a well-equipped army, and the message they wanted to convey was not hard to grasp. And what was worse, among those riding in the vanguard were not only Joar Jedvardsson and his son-in-law Magnus Folkesson, as could be expected, but also Birger Brosa from Bjalbo. That message was also easy to read. Now the Bjalbo clan, the strongest branch of the Folkungs, had joined up with the enemy.
Fortunately the aspirant to the throne, the young Knut Eriksson, King Erik Jedvardsson's son, was not part of the blue army. If he were, peace at the ting would be hard to hold. But the fact that Knut Eriksson was not included was also a sign of the Erik clan's good will to maintain the peace.
After that one could still hope for a happy outcome of the dispute between Emund Ulvbane and Magnus Folkesson. Because there was a well-set trap and Magnus was in certain respects the weakest link in the Folkung chain. If they could make that link burst then much would be gained.
The ting would not begin until noon, when the sun stood at its zenith, so there was now plenty of time for discussion. Outside the largest tent in the blue camp the Folkung coat of arms was raised with the golden lion, along with the Erik clan's new emblem, three golden crowns against a blue sky. This emblem could be viewed as an affront to King Karl Sverkersson: the Erik clan seemed to be heralding King Erik Jedvardsson as their king, since everyone knew that the three crowns had been his mark and no one else's. And anyone who heralded King Erik Jedvardsson in the presence of King Karl Sverkersson was thereby taking a stand that could be interpreted as hostile. The enmity was even clearer since all now knew for certain that Karl Sverkersson was behind the murder of Erik Jedvardsson and that the Dane, poor Magnus Henriksen, had merely been Karl's tool. He was lost the moment that Erik Jedvardsson fell dead to the ground. For in that instant, when Magnus Henriksen believed himself to be a victor up north in Ostra Aros with a dead king at his feet, all support ceased and all promises were broken by Karl Sverkersson down in Linkoping, who now instead took the field against his own regicide henchman.
That was how Karl Sverkersson had won the king's crown. And rumor had it that the man he sent to aid Magnus Henriksen in the murder of Erik Jedvardsson was Emund Ulvbane, and that Emund was also the one who wielded the sword that severed Erik Jedvardsson's head from his body.
If this rumor spoke true, then Magnus Folkesson was embroiled in a dispute with a king-killer, so it was important for him to think carefully about how this dispute should be handled. It was easy to see that it involved more than some outlying farms in between the lands of Arnas and the land that the king's half brother Boleslav had recently granted to Emund.
But if he remained calm and did not get carried away or allow himself to become agitated by those who surely wanted to inflame matters, then the game would be possible to win without much difficulty. For the judge himself, Karle Eskilsson, who was the grandson of the judge Karle of Edsvara, had also married into the Folkung clan. And now he came to join the council in the Folkung tent.
Also present were Joar Jedvardsson, Birger Brosa, Magnus and his two sons, and the two leaders of the Folkung and Erik clan retainers.
There were two things to discuss, and Judge Karle, who was the most distinguished man in the tent, presided over the discussion. He spoke gruffly and straight to the point so that no time would be wasted. If King Karl now attempted to proclaim himself king of Western Gotaland as well, which might be his intention, and all the Folkungs and men of the Erik clan then rejected him, the matter would be clear. In that situation no judge and no bishop could approve the requested position of king. But if, as rumor also had it, King Karl chose instead to seek the ting's approval of his son Sverker as jarl over Western Gotaland, how would they then react?
Birger Brosa said that in his opinion this might be a very good solution. King Karl would avoid ridicule and it would make him less desirous of going to war. Western Gotaland would remain free of his royal power, and if he chose to call a mere babe a jarl, it might assuage his pride but had no real meaning. Only many years from now would such a jarl be able to act as the king's sword, but for now it was only a title. In this way war could be avoided between parties of equal strength, which was the worst sort of war.
Joar Jedvardsson and Magnus Folkesson agreed at once. War between those of equal strength was something that ought to be avoided. Whoever won such a war would pay for his victory dearly, ending up surrounded by many widows and fatherless children, as well as devastated and burned fields.
Judge Karle found that everyone was unanimous regarding this matter, and no one contradicted him.
Then they turned to the next issue, the property dispute between Magnus and young Boleslav's man Emund Ulvbane. There was something fishy about this dispute. The matter was too minor to incite dissension, and it seemed even odder to bring it before a landsting, so the intention may have been to start a quarrel which lik
e a wildfire could flare up into war. Behind Emund Ulvbane stood King Karl's half brother Boleslav. But Boleslav was a child, not yet even an adolescent, and incapable of forging warlike intrigues on his own. Behind Boleslav stood King Karl, so he must be the one who wanted a quarrel.
Judge Karle said that he was well aware that this dispute had to be resolved with a light hand if peace were to be preserved. But since both sides in the dispute could bring forward dozens of oath-swearers, endless numbers if needed, the dispute could not be resolved in the manner prescribed by law. So what other approach could they take? What was Magnus's own opinion in this matter?
Magnus now spoke, briefly and in a manly fashion, and explained that he had thought this was exactly what would happen, that with oath-swearers the dispute would remain in the same place when the ting ended as when it began. So he intended to propose a reconciliation by offering 30 marks in silver for the farms in dispute. That might be 10 marks more than the farms were actually worth, but the price was not too high if by this means the dispute could be settled. If peace could be bought for the land for only 10 marks, then the price was cheap.
Judge Karle nodded thoughtfully and approvingly and then explained how they should proceed: First they would take an oath in which all declared that the dispute had reached an impasse and could not be resolved. Then Magnus would carry in his 30 marks in silver to the ting and offer a compromise just as
he had proposed. After that it would be a simple matter for the judge and his lay assessors to declare a reconciliation, and no one would be able to offer any objections.
Eskil and Arn went off by themselves to look at horses and weapons and say hello to members of their own clan that Eskil knew though Arn did not. They also greeted people from the Erik clan that neither of them knew, while Eskil explained to Arn how a ting functioned. Arn needed to know, for instance, that swords were not allowed inside the white chalk ring, which was the boundary of the ting site itself. And when he had to swear an oath he needed to know the words and say them loudly and clearly without unmanly hesitation or stammering, since such things would make him seem unreliable. The words were as follows:
As true by the grace of the gods do I speak truly.
When Arn objected that such an oath was heathen, Eskil merely laughed and explained that even if the words in the oath were from their ancestors' time, they referred to none other than the Lord God. To convince Arn of this he pointed out that the very first words in the law of the Goths made this matter clear as water, since they were:
Christ is foremost in our law. After that our Christian teachings and all Christians: king, peasants, and all domiciled men, bishops and all book-learned men.
Arn was satisfied with this and jested that Eskil was probably included in this law as a peasant, while he necessarily had to slink along as a book-learned man. In any case it was clear that they did indeed have the law on their side.
When it was time, Bishop Bengt came from Skara and blessed the peace of the ting. Judge Karle announced in a loud voice that the ting was in session, and anyone who broke the peace of the ting was an outlaw. Then a murmur rose up from the thousand men who in suspense watched King Karl slowly make his way up to the highest mound of the ting site, where the judge stood. Soon they would see how the question of peace or war would be decided.
When the king had reached high enough ground that everyone could see him, they could also see that he was carrying in his arms a babe in swaddling clothes. Many who now understood what that meant could breathe a sigh of relief. The peace was preserved, since Karl Sverkersson did not intend to demand the crown of Western Gotaland with sword in hand.
Then everything happened as Karle and Birger Brosa had predicted. Karl Sverkersson raised his infant son high over his head so that all could see him and asked the ting to greet the new jarl, Sverker of Western Gotaland. A great roar came from the direction of the Sverker clan; from the men who had flocked around the king's half brothers Kol and Boleslav came a great shout of "yes." Then all eyes were turned tensely to the part of the ting site gleaming with blue, where Joar Jedvardsson, Magnus Folkesson, and Birger Brosa stood in front.
Birger Brosa whispered with a smile that they should wait a few moments, which they all did, standing quite still just like their men behind them. The murmur around the ting site died down, and then it was so quiet that only the wind was heard. But all at once the three men in front stretched their hands to the sky as one man, and then a forest of hands shot up behind them, and soon jubilant cries of relief and joy thundered across the whole ting site. Bishop Bengt could now bless the new jarl, who shrieked in his tiny voice so that it seemed more like a baptism than the blessing of the foremost man in Western Gotaland.
Next in the deliberations were such cases that concerned only
a few individuals, such as cases of killings and injuries. Then several church thieves were to be hanged to cheer up the many who had traveled so far to the ting, now that the major issue had been decided. It took until late afternoon before they came to the showdown between Magnus Folkesson and the king-killer Emund Ulvbane, and a cold wind of suspense seemed to pass over the ting as men dressed in the colors of the Sverker clan came streaming in from every direction.
At first everything went just as the Folkungs had predicted. Two dozen good men from each side were called to swear the oath, and all swore by the grace of the gods that the land which had been disputed since ancient times belonged to the man for whom they now swore their oath.
Everything that followed also went as planned, for now Magnus Folkesson brought out his silver and declared that with these coins he was prepared to enter into a reconciliation. He bade his opponent approve this action, for the price was good and peace between neighbors was worth more than silver. Emund Ulvbane bullheadedly refused to agree, but Judge Karle and his lay assessors approved the compromise at once, without even having to step aside and confer. And with that, men muttering in disappointment began to disperse in all directions, for now all could see that this matter was decided and would not lead to anything further.
But then Emund Ulvbane stepped forward and contemptuously put his foot on the silver he had just been awarded in compensation and raised his right hand as a sign that he had something to say. Everyone fell silent and waited in tense anticipation, for Emund Ulvbane looked both angry and scornful.
"Since the ting has decided, I must like any other man acquiesce," he began in a thundering voice, for he was a very powerful man. "But it aggrieves me that silver should take precedence over honor and right. It also aggrieves me to have to compromise with a man without honor such as Magnus Folkesson. For you, Magnus, bear no semblance to a man, nor are you a man in your heart, and I deem your sons to be equally foul, for they are both bitch puppies, the one a nun and the other an ale cask."
With that Emund Ulvbane motioned to one of his retainers to come and fetch the silver while he remained standing there with his hands on his hips. With disdainful glances he sought his enemies' eyes. But the only person on the other side to meet his gaze was one of those he had called a bitch puppy, a young man with a sheeplike, innocent face who looked at him without the wit to feel fear. Instead his expression seemed to display astonishment and pity.
Then a great tumult and loud shouting erupted at the ting and much uneasiness. Many men hurried away, because the peace that had seemed so secure was now in grave peril.
In the Folkung tent the men soon gathered to deliberate, and the mood was sorrowful. Both Joar Jedvardsson and Birger Brosa, who had some knowledge of the law, said they had a bad feeling about what the law now prescribed about someone who had so openly used words of abuse at the ting, and what sort of response was allowed in such a case. They could not defend themselves with silver this time.
They would have to wait until Judge Karle came and recited the law, and it was a dismal wait during which not much was said. Eskil saw to it that a cask of ale was brought in and tankards for one and all, but they drank in sile
nce, as if at the beginning of a funeral ale.
When Judge Karle entered the tent it was immediately apparent from his face that he was weighed down by sorrow and worry. He greeted the men briefly and then got straight to the point.
"Kinsmen, you want to know what the law says about the words of abuse that have now been spoken. I shall tell you the law, and then you will have to decide for yourselves the wisest course of action, for in this I have nothing to say. But regarding these insults we heard Emund utter, the law is so clear that I don't believe Emund himself could have spoken such sharp rebukes without having many consultations and much advice. For hear now the law, I shall recite it to you at once."
When he noticed that ale was being served, he paused and took a tankard, drinking several deep drafts as he looked as though he were reviewing the law in his mind. Then he set down the tankard, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and in a high, singing voice he recited the text of the law:
If any man utters words of abuse to another: "You bear no semblance to a man nor are you a man in your heart." "I am a man like you." They shall meet where three roads converge. If the one who said the words comes, and the one who received them does not, then he must remain as he was called; he may not act as an oath-swearer, nor is he competent to witness, either in the case of a man or a woman. On the other hand, should the one who received the words come, while the one who said the words does not, then the one insulted must shout three times "outlaw" and make a mark for him on the ground. Then he would be worse than the one who now spoke it, since he did not dare step forth. Now they both meet, fully armed. If the one falls who received the words, to him is charged half the price of a man. If the one falls who gave the words and word felony is worst, the tongue is the bane of the head, then he shall be deemed an outlaw.
