The Road To Jerusalem (43 page)

Cecilia and Arn took each other’s hands and looked at each other without saying a thing for a long time, since they both felt the miracle within them.

Finally Arn said that now he had to ride back to Arnas, no matter how hard it was to part, and explain to his father Magnus how things now stood. Perhaps, he said, they could hold the betrothal ale this summer.

At first his words made her so happy that she clutched at her heart almost in pain, but then a cloud seemed to come over her face.

“Perhaps we may need as much support from the Holy Virgin Mary as Gunvor and Gunnar did in that beautiful story you told,” she said gravely. “For our love has difficult tests and great obstacles ahead, as you probably know, don’t you?”

“No, I know no such things,” said Arn. “There are no great obstacles, not a mountain that is too high, not a forest that is too deep, or a sea that is too wide to sail across. With God’s help nothing shall stand in our way.”

“We will have to pray mightily for God’s help,” she replied, with her eyes lowered. “For my father is Karl Sverkersson’s man, and your father is Knut Eriksson’s man; everyone knows that. My father fears for his life because of this, and as long as Karl is alive my father will probably not dare bind himself to the Folkungs. That’s how it is, my dear beloved Arn. Oh, what a joy to say those words! Nevertheless, our love has more than a great sea to cross as long as Karl Sverkersson is king and my father is the king’s man.”

But Arn refused to be cast down by this. Not only was his confidence great, but he believed that the Virgin Mary was on their side. And no matter how much he knew about Aristotle and Holy Saint Bernard de Clairvaux, about Plato’s high and base worlds, and about the Cistercian rules for living—matters that people in Western Gotaland knew nothing about—he still knew very little about the rules that applied in the struggle for power. And that is what people in Western Gotaland knew everything about.

He relied entirely on his belief that the greatest of all things was love.

Magnus and Eskil were sitting by themselves in the accounting room in the tower, and the topic they were discussing was not an easy one. It suited them that Arn was busy these days. He spent most of his time a short distance out on Lake Vanern, where he sawed blocks of ice shaped the same as building stones for walls. The ice blocks were pulled on a sledge back to Arnas and stored in his ice cellar between layers of shavings from the carpentry shops. He had firmly announced that it had to be done now before the ice was too thin. It was just as well that he had this urgent task to do; it would have been hard to have this conversation if he were with them.

Both Magnus and Eskil knew from their own experience that young men, and apparently also young women according to what they’d heard, were struck by temptations that could be rather difficult. This was part of life, and there was not much to be done about it other than wait for it to pass, like a head cold in the spring. Magnus recalled such things from his early youth, and as he thought back he also turned sentimental and confessed to Eskil that the woman who had been the first mistress of Arnas, and mother to Eskil and Arn, at first had meant no more to him than a pair of beautiful chestnut horses or other fine acquisitions for the estate. But over time Sigrid had become more dear to him than anyone else. What Arn called love could grow with prudence if a couple lived well and sensibly together. When Magnus thought about it more closely, he’d noticed that Erika Joarsdotter had recently become fairer and easier to deal with too, and sometimes downright pleasant. At least it had never been as easy to have her in the house as now. That’s how things went with what Arn called love.

But this was the wisdom of an elder, which could not be transmitted in words to the younger man. It was meaningless to try and talk sense in such situations, because sense was beside the point. It was the same as telling someone who had just lost a kinsman and laid him in the ground that time heals all wounds. It was true but meaningless at a time when grief was at its worst.

So what should they do with Arn and his talk about wanting to rush off to Husaby tomorrow and celebrate his betrothal ale?

Eskil thought that cooler heads ought to prevail, which would be much easier when Arn was not present, since he was like a red-hot iron. There were certain things that spoke for the betrothal and other things that spoke against it. These things and nothing else had to be weighed like silver to ascertain in the end which weighed the most.

Against Arn’s proposal, more than anything else, was the fact that right now no one knew who would hold the power of king during the next two years. Nevertheless, as long as Karl Sverkersson was king, Algot Palsson would have to be wary of binding his clan to the king’s enemies, at least if he was a wise man. And for their own part it was also ill advised to unite by marriage with a clan that was an enemy of Knut Eriksson, who might well become king.

On the positive side, Forsvik on the shore of Lake Vattern belonged to Arnas, and they controlled the entire northern part of Western Gotaland—the section south of Tiveden Forest where the trade route between four countries would be established. The weakest part was the stretch near Kinnekulle, where Algot’s land began. If Magnus could acquire Kinnekulle and the shore of Lake Vanern south of there, it would be worth a great deal. And if an opportunity arose to make such a deal, Algot would be hardpressed to say no and might even be persuaded to give these lands as dowry, though the value was twice as much as was customary.

It was inconceivable that this could be accomplished as long as Karl Sverkersson was alive. But Algot would be all the more amenable to doing business if Karl Sverkersson left this earthly life as swiftly as Knut Eriksson intended.

That was the situation. As long as King Karl Sverkersson sat safely in his castle in the middle of Lake Vattern, there was nothing to be done. But if he departed this life, an important deal for Arnas could be concluded at once.

Eskil could see only one weakness in his calculation. It was the question of whether Birger Brosa and the clan
ting
might have other plans. That’s what had happened when his own father Magnus had considered celebrating a wedding ale with either Cecilia or Katarina, for precisely the same reasons that they had just discussed. Instead, Erika Joarsdotter had been chosen, because the clan
ting
found that marriage more beneficial.

But Magnus said that he hadn’t heard mention of any plans of that sort. As things now stood, they had formed a good alliance with the Erik clan through Erika Joarsdotter. Knut did have a sister, whose name was Margareta, but she was already married to King Sverre of Norway.

Since Magnus’s own brother Birger Brosa was married to Brigida, who was the daughter of King Harald Gille of Norway, the Norwegian bond was very strong. No, right now Magnus could see no marriage that would be considered more important for Arnas or for the clan than with either Katarina or Cecilia, it didn’t matter which.

It remained to decide who would convey their decision to Arn. The message was simple. As long as King Karl was alive there would be no betrothal ale.

But though the words might be easy to formulate, it would be no easy task to say them to a young son or brother living in the fever or madness called love.

Magnus ought to tell him, since he was Arn’s father and the power over all wedding ales was rightfully his. Or perhaps Eskil should do it instead, since he was Arn’s brother but had no power; he could not be talked out of it, but merely explain. For a while they twisted and turned this matter, like a tender joint of meat, and then decided that Eskil would be the one to tell Arn how matters stood.

A week before St. Tiburtius’s Day, April 14th, when the ice still covered the lake but was beginning to soften, Knut Eriksson arrived at Arnas without announcing himself in advance. He had traveled fast, accompanied only by Geir Erlendsen, the bard Orm Rognvaldsen, and Berse the Strong. They had traveled far and wide in Western Gotaland, where the bard had a chance to justify the good wages he was paid, and they had just come from Skara, where Knut had many eyes and ears. There they had purchased particularly good information from a man who had just left Karl Sverkersson’s service at his castle out on Visingo in the middle of Lake Vattern.

Knut didn’t reveal the purpose of his visit other than to say that he was looking for Arn, whom he found moping about among house thralls in the cookhouses, a place and a situation hardly worthy of a man like Arn, in Knut Eriksson’s opinion.

To Arn’s perplexity Knut immediately wanted to challenge him to an archery contest, so a target was made of straw bound together and set up in the castle courtyard. Arn didn’t want to refuse, but he found no joy in this exercise. They set the target at a distance of forty paces, which Arn thought seemed too difficult for Knut, but that was what he ordered. They selected the best and strongest bows, and everyone at the estate gathered to watch, for they all knew that this might be the country’s next king who was about to shoot arrows with one of the sons of Arnas. And no one wanted to say afterward that he had failed to witness the contest.

When they stood next to each other with their bows ready, Arn still didn’t seem to have any desire for the game. So Knut took him by the shoulders, embraced him, and said the following words, which he had thought out carefully:

“Now, my dearest childhood friend, you shall shoot to win against your king and nothing less, as if everything depended on these arrows. Imagine that it’s about Cecilia; yes, I know all about you and her. Imagine that I am your king and can give her to you but only if you defeat me. Look, now I’ll shoot first. Don’t answer me now, just shoot well.”

While Arn, shaken by these words, composed himself so he might do his best, Knut shot his ten arrows and aroused great admiration, for no one knew that he was such a good shot.

Then Arn shot, with a cold expression and a great silence inside, as if everything really did depend on these arrows. Afterward all could see that there was a great difference between the two, and that Arn was the better archer.

Now Knut grabbed Arn again and embraced him, saying that it might well be that Arn had just shot his way to making Cecilia Algotsdotter his wife. Then they left the courtyard and went alone to the tower. There Knut asked to have ale brought up to them.

When they were alone, Knut did not wait for the ale before he began to explain the entire situation to Arn. The time had now arrived. For himself it was a matter of the crown, and for Arn it was Cecilia. Knut Eriksson had many informants around the country, which is how he knew everything that was important to know, and also some things that to many might seem less important, such as this matter with Arn and Cecilia.

Arn replied morosely that he could well understand that many sorts of skills were required for someone who strove to win a king’s crown, but he didn’t understand the intention behind this game with bow and arrow that they had just played. Why stage this contest when a prospective king took a great risk of losing and thus being talked about as the loser?

Just then the house thralls arrived with ale, and Knut smiled broadly at this interruption, because he seemed to understand Arn’s impatience and puzzlement. They politely drank a
skal
to each other first, as custom demanded, and Knut saw in Arn’s eyes the burning impatience that insisted on an immediate response. And yet he gave no answer, but began speaking of his father, Holy Saint Erik, who had been good to everyone, who had demanded nothing for himself, who had preferred his hair shirt and longs hours of prayer to courtly life, who had helped the weak and stood up to the strong, and who had died like a saint at the hands of an outlaw. Perhaps Arn had heard much of this story before, but there was one more thing to add.

Erik Jedvardsson’s father was Jedvard of Orkney, who had sailed with Sigurd Jorsalafar to the Holy Land and there performed great services for the Norwegian king. In gratitude for this Christian help, King Sigurd had granted Jedvard of Orkney two small splinters of the Holy Cross on which Our Savior was tortured and died. King Sigurd had been given a piece of the holy wood from King Baldwin of Outremer, or the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

Here Knut paused in his story and asked Arn whether he had heard of Outremer, and Arn’s happy laugh and eager nod made him quickly understand that he had.

Well, these two splinters from the Holy Cross had been inherited by Knut’s father, Erik Jedvardsson, and he’d had them cast inside a gold cross that he always wore around his neck. When Emund One-Hand chopped off his head, the holy relic fell to the ground and was conveyed by a wily man to the one who stood behind the murder, the man now called King Karl Sverkersson. So he was not only a king-killer but also an outlaw who had violated a holy relic of God. The gold cross containing the wooden splinters from Our Savior’s Cross inside was now worn by Karl Sverkersson himself around his neck, and this had to be a constant abomination in God’s eyes. Surely there could be no doubt about that.

Arn at once agreed that this must be abominable in God’s eyes, and he added that everything must be done to right this wrong.

Then Knut Eriksson smiled at Arn and repeated quietly that now the hour was upon them. But to reach the place where God’s holy relic might now be found, they would need a select few men who could tolerate cold and were able to sail well, who were skilled with a bow and could defend themselves better with a sword than any other men.

That was why they had staged this contest, Knut went on. There were men who could shoot well in a contest but could not do the same in battle, when their heads were full of anger and fear. Such had been the case for Arn when asked to shoot and simultaneously think about Cecilia, but Arn had acquitted himself well.

Now, not later, was when they must do what had to be done, Knut continued. Then a bit hesitantly and with an assurance that when he became king he would be the first to bless a wedding ale between Arn and Cecilia, Knut asked whether Arn wished to join this expedition as one of only eight men.