The Road to Jerusalem - Crusades Trilogy 01

by Jan Guillou

  Knut and Arn rode at the head of the column of retainers to mass the next day, and now they showed the blue colors from their lance tips and mantles. Knut and Arn were also fully armed, with shields displaying the Folkung lion and the three crowns.

  So many people had been lured by the rumors to this mass that most could not get into the church but had to stand outside. At the church steps Knut and Arn dismounted while their retainers stayed to hold their horses.

  They entered side by side, and everyone respectfully made room for them. In the vestibule, Knut unbuckled his sword as was customary and set it aside. But when they proceeded up the aisle Knut was astonished to see that Arn had not removed his sword, and leaned over to whisper to him. But Arn gave him a secretive smile and shook his head. And what occurred when they reached the archbishop to receive communion served to benefit Knut Eriksson as much as it surprised him. For when they stopped, Arn drew his sword so that a startled gasp went through the whole congregation. In the next instant he handed over the sword to the archbishop himself, who accepted it reverently, kissed it, and sprinkled holy water on it before he handed it back. Arn then bowed, sheathed the sword in its scabbard, and fell to his knees, whispering to Knut to do the same at once.

  All the others had moved away, and they knelt there alone to take communion from the archbishop himself. The two did not stay for the rest of the mass but walked slowly side by side out of the church as soon as they had taken God's holy sacrament.

  When they came out onto the church steps there was already a great commotion, for the rumor of the sword that the archbishop had blessed had already reached the crowd, but no one there knew which sword it was.

  Now, however, Knut drew his sword and declared in a loud voice that the sword he held in his hand was blessed by God and with this sword he had slain the man who was an outlaw and who had murdered King Erik on this very spot. Then he removed the golden chain that he wore around his neck and held it up in the sunshine so that the cross flashed. He announced that this was the holy relic of God which he had taken from the outlaw Karl Sverkersson, and since he, Knut, had equally great respect for the Swedes and their ting as his father Erik had always had, he now called a ting in five days and asked them to ride to the judges and chieftains in Svealand to tell them.

  When he finished speaking a tumult broke out anew, instigated first by their own retainers, but soon enough involving everyone assembled. No one could now dispute that the archbishop himself had taken a position on the question of who should be elected king of Svealand. And so this rumor also spread with the speed of the wind.

  Later the same day, when they were back in their camp, where Knut had ordered water fetched from Saint Erik's spring so that he could personally bless all of those who came to him for this reason, Arn was released from his duties to the king.

  Knut took him aside and said that now they faced some boring days of waiting and conversations with one man arriving after the other. Knut suspected that Arn might not have much patience for this. What could be finer than to ride for all he was worth to see Cecilia? For Knut did not want to be so hard on his friend that he would stand in the way of such happiness any longer.

  Then Arn embraced his best friend and they soon parted. Arn rode for the sake of his dreams, and Knut stayed for the sake of power.

  It had taken Arn a week to reach the slopes of Husaby, yet that was faster than any man in the North could have managed it, at least on a Nordic horse. He had also stopped at home in Arnas to tell them everything that had happened and to scour himself and change his clothes.

  Now he was finally riding along with Husaby in sight, moving so slowly and with such short reins that Shimal pranced impatiently. The closer he came to Husaby the less he cared about all the strange things he had witnessed in the struggle for power.

  Algot Palsson had been called to Arnas to settle the dowry, and they had found it just as well that such discussions be handled between Eskil and Magnus on the one hand and Algot on the other; Arn did not need to attend.

  This proposal had suited him doubly. First, he was not in the least interested in whether he and Cecilia were a good bargain, or even a bad one, for either of their fathers. Second, he would rather meet Cecilia with all the fine things he had to say to her without being watched over by her father or his suspicious retainers.

  Now everything seemed too good to be true. Soon he would be with her. Soon he would hold her in his arms and tell her that it was likely that the betrothal ale would be celebrated at Husaby as early as Eskilsmas.

  Magnus and Eskil had arranged it, apparently without first asking Algot, so that the betrothal ale would be held at Husaby and the wedding ale at Arnas. Cecilia would be given Forsvik as a morning gift. It would be up to Eskil and Magnus to squeeze the dowry out of Algot.

  But Arn had no worry about such matters on his conscience. A few forests or beaches, what were they compared to the greatest thing of all that God had granted humanity?

  And even if Algot did not care particularly about his daughter's feelings, just as Magnus would not take the wishes of his

  second son seriously in such matters, Algot was still going to secure the life and property of his own clan through this marriage. That much Arn did understand now.

  A short time ago, when he'd last seen Cecilia, everything had looked dark and hopeless, but it was now suffused with light. Like Gunvor and Gunnar, Arn and Cecilia would never neglect to thank the Virgin Mary for her power, manifested once again, and for her teaching that greatest of all was love.

  When Arn approached the Husaby royal estate, the thralls at work sowing turnips noticed him, and some of them ran up to the manor to announce his arrival. So a great commotion arose at once, and by the time Arn reached the house, all the thralls, retainers, and other people at the estate were lined up in a double row leading up to the door of the longhouse. When Arn rode in between them the thralls' warbling shouts of jubilation rang out, and the retainers banged on their weapons while the thralls did the same on whatever lay to hand.

  Cecilia came out on the porch of the longhouse and at first took a few steps forward, as if she had thought to run and meet Arn. But then she restrained herself, clasped her hands, and stood erect as she waited for him. Her grandmother Ulrika came out on the porch looking as if she wanted to say something stern, but when she discovered Arn approaching between the ranks of thralls and retainers she stopped herself and stood waiting in the same manner as her granddaughter.

  Inside Arn a battle was raging as he dismounted from Shimal and handed the reins to a thrall who came running. Arn's face was hot and he knew he was blushing. His heart was pounding so wildly that he thought he might lose his wits, and he had to exert all his self-restraint to go to meet Cecilia respectfully and courteously before all these eyes, just as she waited for him so calmly with her gaze lowered demurely.

  But then she raised her eyes and they looked at each other briefly, and all polite control burst, and they ran to each other. When they met they threw their arms around each other in a way that was not at all proper for young people who had not yet drunk their betrothal ale. Then the thralls' jubilant ululations rose again, and such a great noise commenced that none could make himself heard for a good long while.

  The thralls of Husaby already knew everything about what had happened and what was to be expected, and many of them hoped to follow along with Cecilia after the wedding ale. They believed that anyone who went with Cecilia and young Herr Arn would be better treated than anywhere else. Among the thralls only good things were said of Arn, things that had nothing to do with swords and bows and other topics that free men discussed over their ale tankards. Instead they talked of how young Herr Arn treated thralls like men.

  Cecilia and Arn did not want to let each other go, but forced themselves to do so when Grandmother Ulrika coughed for the third time. The two women and Arn then went into the long-house so that Arn might be welcomed with some ale and break a piece of bread. Once inside the
longhouse, Grandmother Ulrika spoke before the young people could say a word. She began to interrogate them about the morning gift, the dowry, and where the betrothal ale was to be celebrated. Arn had to make an effort to answer all these inquiries as if he really cared, and he had to describe the property at Forsvik, the number of outbuildings and the size of the main house, the number of thralls in the house, and other details of which he had no knowledge. Only then did Ulrika ask about things that seemed more important, about what stand the Folkungs in Eastern Gotaland had taken and whether the Swedes had held a ting yet. Arn was able to reassure her that the Folkungs in both Eastern and Western Gotaland stood united with the Erik clan, and that he did believe that Knut Eriksson had already been elected king at the ting of the Swedes. Judging by all he had heard from everybody as he rode south from Ostra Aros through Svealand, there seemed to be no doubt in this matter. King Erik Jedvardsson had been a much loved king in Svealand, and as Arn understood it, Karl Sverkersson was not at all liked in the same way. Up there among the Swedes, they hardly knew who the king's brothers Kol and Boleslav were, nor did they care. So presumably Knut Eriksson was already the king of the Swedes, and he would come to the landsting in Western Gotaland in the summer to be elected king here as well.

  Mistress Ulrika let herself be satisfied with all these glad tidings and also recognized that she had interrupted the young people by forcing Arn to talk of such concerns that of course were more important than their giddy and heated feelings and yet concerned them little right now. So she surprised them by remarking in a knowing tone that the weather was beautiful and that there was no harm in taking a horseback ride up Kinnekulle. At these words Cecilia jumped up and embraced her grandmother, who was otherwise so somber and strict.

  Soon Cecilia had a good-natured mare saddled and bridled and was dressed for a ride in a loose and warm green cloak that reached from her throat to her feet. With a practiced hand she swept her cloak over one arm and was in the saddle before Arn or the thralls had time to help her. Arn accepted a leather bag containing bread and bacon and wooden cups which a house thrall kindly brought in case the ride should be a long one, as she added with a shameless laugh. In the meantime Cecilia urged on her mare and went galloping off. Some distance away she turned in the saddle and shouted to Arn to try and catch her. He cast his head back and laughed with heartfelt joy, patted Shimal lovingly on the neck, and joked that now they both had a hunt before them that must not fail. Then he leaped into the saddle with a single bound that made those who were standing around murmur in astonishment, and set off. At first he held Shimal back to a canter so that he wouldn't catch up too soon with the fluttering green cloak and the red hair far ahead of him, and yet only a few breaths away.

  When they were out of sight of the Husaby royal manor he set Shimal into a full gallop. Like the wind he caught up with and passed Cecilia, wheeled Shimal around and stormed back toward her, veering off at the last second. Then he rode circles around her, enjoying her bright laughter that made him bold and soon reckless. He stood up in the saddle and balanced with his arms in the air as he again rode past her at full speed so that she had to rein in her horse. When he turned to her with a laugh, holding his hands arrogantly on his hips, he didn't see the thick oak limb that swept him like a glove to the ground.

  It looked like a nasty fall, and he lay completely still. Beside herself with worry, Cecilia pulled up her horse, jumped off, and dashed over to Arn. She began caressing his lifeless face in despair. But then he opened first one eye and then the other, and laughing, took her in his arms, rolling around with her among the wood anemones as she feigned anger and chided him for scaring her so.

  All at once they fell silent. They sat up and held each other for a long time without saying a word, as if there were no words possible just now, only the singing of the birds.

  They sat there until their limbs began to ache from the uncomfortable position. She pulled away first and leaned back in the grass. He lay down next to her and caressed her face, struggling briefly with his shyness. He kissed her cautiously on the forehead first and then her cheeks and lips. Soon she returned his kisses and their shyness was as if blown away by the wind.

  They came back late to the Husaby royal manor.

  Chapter 12

  It was Cecilia's goodness that plunged them both into the deepest unhappiness. As Arn so bitterly explained their misfortune, one had only to compare her for a moment with her sister Katarina to see it at once. Besides, it was between the two sisters that everything had been determined from the very beginning.

  For Katarina, Cecilia's happiness meant her own unhappiness. Since Cecilia was no longer going to return to Gudhem for any further studies in either the progress of the spirit or the hand, it meant as Katarina saw it that she would be trapped like a rat behind the odious cloister walls. That feeling was even stronger when she found out what a large dowry her father Algot had been forced to part with to marry one of his daughters into the Folkung clan. It was now no longer plausible that Algot would allow Katarina to marry too, and she feared that she would be confined to the convent forever and would dry up like an old maid.

  Cecilia and Arn had not yet celebrated their betrothal ale, though this was not of their doing but because of the ongoing power struggle. It had been somewhat more difficult for Knut Eriksson to persuade the Swedes to elect him king at Mora Stones than he had first imagined. And when that matter was finally settled, his plan to come to the landsting in Western Gotaland was delayed still further by the fact that Boleslav sent an army against him. He had to convince the Swedes that the first thing they needed to do for their new king was to march off to war.

  But Boleslav had not assembled a sufficiently large force and was defeated at once by Knut Eriksson and his Swedes, along with Birger Brosa and the Folkungs of Eastern Gotaland. All was now well, but it had taken time, and the summer was more than half gone.

  Magnus Folkesson at Arnas, however, was bullheadedly determined to have a king at table when the wedding ale was drunk, so he wanted to wait until Knut managed to conclude his landsting in Western Gotaland, where he no doubt would be elected with great unanimity.

  As a consequence Arn and Cecilia might well have been man and wife before God as they now rode toward Gudhem, but they were merely betrothed. Yet it would soon be evident that Cecilia was carrying Arn's child under her heart.

  With great concern Arn had inquired about this from Eskil, who was well acquainted with the worldly laws of the land. But Eskil had only laughed and said that what the law prescribed in this situation, if Cecilia's father really wanted to make a case out of it and drag their shame all the way to the ting, was that Arn would be obligated to pay six marks in silver for damages. Eskil thus waved this matter aside by saying that Algot Palsson was hardly in a position to begin arguing over such paltry sums. Nothing worse than that would come of it.

  Out of sisterly affection Cecilia wanted to meet with Katarina in order to offer her some solace if possible. For Cecilia it was not hard to imagine what torments Katarina must be suffering within the walls of Gudhem, since she believed she knew her sister well.

  But she did not, as it turned out. If she had, she would never have set foot in Gudhem to try and console Katarina.

  When the two sisters met in the cloister garden at Gudhem, Cecilia did her best to keep from bubbling over the whole time about her own happiness. She made an effort to console Katarina by saying that as soon as the wedding was over she would have a talk with their father, who would probably take her words more seriously after she had been accepted into the Folkung clan. They would find a way to make Algot listen to reason; perhaps something as simple as the fact that he was miserly and it cost much silver as well as oak forests to keep daughters locked up in a convent. Even more silver would be squandered, if it was a daughter who did not appreciate in the least this special form of fatherly love. At this truth they had a good giggle together.

  Once again Cecilia was enticed to talk abou
t her own happiness, about how they would first live at Arnas as long as there were times of strife, how they then would move to Forsvik by Lake Vattern, how they would travel with Eskil to meet the Norwegian kinsmen, and anything else she could think of to talk about concerning all that Katarina regarded as the free, happy life outside the cloister walls. Cecilia was much too full of her own happiness to see how Katarina's eyes narrowed with hatred and envy. When Katarina almost furtively asked whether it was too much visiting recently that had made Cecilia's waist thicker than before, Cecilia could no longer hold back her joy. And she revealed the secret that was certainly no more than a small sin to be absolved for the price of six marks in silver and some Pater Nosters and Ave Marias, perhaps a hair shirt and a week on bread and water and whatever other penance there might be. But

  it was true that she was already with child. And since she had come to that topic of conversation she couldn't check herself for long, since she felt both so much dread and such great happiness at the prospect of bearing a child.

  Katarina was no longer listening to her younger sister's childish prattle. For she was already thinking of how this matter could turn out to be her own salvation.

  When it was finally time to part, she embraced Cecilia tenderly and told her to take good care of her unborn child and to give her warmest congratulations to Arn.

  But as soon as the cloister gate closed behind Cecilia, who angered Katarina further by heaving a sigh of relief as she stepped outside, Katarina hurried to her prioress full of cold resolve. She sought to bring about a dramatic change, the sooner the better.

  Gudhem was a young convent that had recently been established with donations from King Karl Sverkersson, just as he had donated the land for Vreta convent in Eastern Gotaland. It was impossible to know for sure what the Erik clan thought of cloisters that had originated with Karl Sverkersson and his clan. But the prioress of Gudhem, Mother Rikissa, who was of the Sverker clan and close kin with the now murdered King Karl, had expressed her strong concern that Gudhem might either have to move or close. If Knut Eriksson became king, as everyone believed, it wouldn't be worth much to belong to the Sverker clan in Western Gotaland, nor would it be wise to stay in a convent with Sverker origins. It was generally known how Erik Jedvardsson in his day had extended his greedy hands toward Varnhem.