The Road To Jerusalem (44 page)

This was the third time that someone had told Arn he would never have Cecilia as long as Karl Sverkersson was alive. If he had hesitated the first two times, he did not do so now.

When they arrived at Forsvik by the shore of Lake Vattern, they found that Eyvind Jonsson, Jon Mickelsen, and Egil Olafsen of Ulateig had built a small but elegant ship that was broad in the beam, had a shallow draft, and could be rowed with three pairs of oars. The Norwegian retainers apologized for not adorning the ship with the runes required to finish it completely, but seaworthiness had been foremost on their minds because the ice would soon begin to thaw. This small ship, which was built like a Norse longship, could be sailed faster than other ships of the day, especially in Western Gotaland; it could be rowed faster than any other, especially with Norwegian oarsmen; and it could be dragged easily over ice. Knut was very pleased with what he saw and explained everything to Arn, who hadn’t had as much to do with Norway as others in his clan.

After three days of waiting it was time to set out. They first celebrated a mass, which Arn, to lend the words greater power, held in church language. After the mass Knut Eriksson spoke to them and spurred them on. Their strength lay in the fact that they were eight good men who would cross Lake Vattern when no one believed it was possible. Out there on the southern tip of the island of Visingo sat the king-killer Karl Sverkersson with his retainers, assuming he was safe. But God would not stand by the man who had murdered a saint for his own gain. When they had won what now had to be won, each and every one of them would be rewarded according to his merits.

More was not said. The ship was pulled by horses up from the hole in the ice by the shore where it had lain so that the water would make the planking swell and grow tight. The horses were stabled, and then they finished loading the ship. Each of the men grabbed the end of a rope for the hard task of dragging the ship out to open water. But the broad-beamed vessel was easy to drag on the ice, and eight men were not too few.

After half a day’s toil they came to a channel leading toward the open water in the middle of Lake Vattern, and from there they could already see Visingo. The wind was westerly as usual at this time of year, and they were soon able to set sail. The farther south they sailed, the more the channel widened. In the dusk they saw that the southern tip of Visingo lay surrounded by open water, and they understood then that God was with them. Had they come a day earlier they would have been forced to leave their ship out on the ice, fully visible as soon as day broke. A day later and the ice on Lake Vattern would have dispersed, and a guard would have been posted on the walls of the royal fortress of Nas to watch for dangers approaching from the sea.

They lowered their sail and rowed slowly toward Nas, reaching the shore only after it had long been dark. There they pulled in to wait in a little cove with dense alder thickets. They pulled the sail over their ship and lighted fires in two iron braziers, sending scouts ashore to make sure the fires weren’t visible. For they did need heat, since the spring nights in the North were still bitterly cold.

Knut was in a good mood, as if all the difficult things had already been accomplished. He sat close to Arn and said that this was either their last night together or their first on a long journey.

Then he talked about the man who had murdered his own father, and who had tried to murder Arn’s father with trickery and unfair single combat, but Arn interrupted him at once, saying that these words were unnecessary. He knew all this already and had given it much thought.

And yet he felt doubt, he admitted to Knut. He had sworn a holy oath not to raise his sword in anger or for his own benefit, and now it seemed that he was on his way to doing just that. He would gain much from Karl Sverkersson’s death. He said that he understood that it was not merely a question of taking back the holy relic that rightfully belonged to his good friend Knut, and which hung unjustly around Karl Sverkersson’s neck. He understood that this neck should be severed when the cross was freed.

Knut said nothing to release Arn from his anguish, because what Arn had said was entirely true. Instead Knut spoke in a low, warm tone about Cecilia and what a joy it would be as their king to bring them together in any church they liked, even before the archbishop in Ostra Aros if they so desired. Arn then grew warm with tenderness despite the raw, damp late winter night, and replied that any church at all would be fine as far as he was concerned, as long as it was close by. And then they laughed together. As their laughter died away, Knut said that if he liked, Arn could borrow one of several good Norwegian swords that were not bound by a holy oath.

Then Knut lowered his voice and explained what was going to happen. In Skara they had bought much information, but most importantly from a man who a short time ago had left Karl Sverkersson’s service at Nas. They had found out that when there was no danger at Nas, such as now when the ice could neither bear nor break, Karl Sverkersson took a short walk down to the beach each morning, to be by himself. Why he did this no one quite knew, but he always followed the same route in the early morning, just at dawn, when the first light allowed him to see where he set his foot.

For this important information, Karl Sverkersson’s traitor had received the wages he so justly deserved.

If God was now with them, all this would happen by the time the night was over. All that remained now was to pray and then try to get some sleep.

A watch was set out. The ship was well hidden in the darkness behind the alders near the beach.

Arn did not sleep much on that cold night, and perhaps the other men didn’t either, even though they were Norsemen and did not seem frightened that the next day might be their last.

But everything went as though God were standing by them. Arn stood ready with bow and arrow when it was still pitchdark. With the very first light he moved to a somewhat better position. Next to him stood Knut himself and Jon Mickelsen and Egil Olafsen of Ulateig, and they all were wearing thick wolfskins and double leggings against the cold. They stood so near the royal fortress that they could have easily reached the top of the wall with an arrow-shot. Arn wore a Norwegian sword at his side. They didn’t say much to one another.

When the heavy oak gate in the wall of Nas opened, however, it was as if all the cold in their limbs vanished, and they seemed to glow with excitement. They saw a man come out with two men by his side. They watched the three come walking toward the strand quite near to the place where they were standing. Arn made a move to draw his bow, but the other three stopped him at once.

In the faint light of dawn it was hard to distinguish colors. But when the three men from the castle walked past at a distance of a couple of paces, it seemed that the one in front was wearing a red mantle and a golden cross that gleamed at his neck. Knut Eriksson held up his hand in warning so that no one would act before he did, although they all knew it was the king walking past.

King Karl Sverkersson went all the way down to the shore of Lake Vattern. There he stopped and bent down to the water, cupping some it in his hand. He drank the water before he fell to his knees, and for the last time he offered a prayer of thanksgiving because this water had saved his life for another night.

There was no frost on the ground, so Knut Eriksson was able to stride forward as soon as the three men by the water had knelt down, and they could not hear him coming. He chopped off the head of the king at once and then did the same to one of the retainers. But he did not kill the other man. Instead he held his sword to his throat and waved for Egil and Jon to come forward at once, which they did swiftly after whispering to Arn to stay where he was.

Arn now saw how his dearest childhood friend leaned down to pick up the golden chain and rinsed it clean of blood in the water of Lake Vattern. He then walked quickly toward Arn after whispering something to his Norwegian retainers, and they dragged the survivor off with them, holding a hand over his mouth.

They pulled the ship into the water and got on board. The Norsemen sat down at the oars and Knut stood at the tiller in the stern holding the captive with one hand and the golden chain with God’s holy relic in the other. When they were ready to cast off he released his prisoner and spoke to him in a loud voice.

“Now I say to you, captive, that you are free. You have been given your life, but you shall also know who, other than God, has given you life. I am Knut Eriksson and I am now your king. Go to the mass of St. Tiburtius tomorrow and thank God for your life, for just as He saved your life, it was He who led us here. But make haste so that no one thinks you were the one who killed Karl Sverkersson!”

Then Knut signaled with his hand for the rowers to pull away, and with powerful strokes of the oars they moved swiftly out into clear water farther than an arrow-shot could reach. The captive, who had been released like a kitten into the water by King Knut Eriksson, now ran as fast as he could toward the halfopen oak gate in the walls of the royal fortress, the fortress that was built so securely that no one could ever have succeeded in killing the king inside.

The oarsmen rested on their oars to await Karl Sverkersson’s retainers, who came running down to the shore with crossbows and longbows in hand. They shot their arrows in vain, and King Knut held the holy relic of God over his head in triumph.

Then they set a course for Forsvik, which lay against the wind. No pursuers in Western Gotaland would be able to row against the wind like King Knut’s Norwegian kinsmen.

The week after the martyrs Filippus and Jacob were remembered on the first of May, when all the livestock were let out to pasture and the inspection of the fences was complete, the late spring all at once changed to summer. The mild south wind continued for a long time, all the tender greenery appeared at once, and among the oaks on the slopes of Kinnekulle lay a thick white carpet of wood anemones. The cuckoo was heard first in the west.

This time Arn came riding alone and at a leisurely pace toward Husaby. He seemed to want to draw out the sweet torment now that he knew that Cecilia would be his. He also had much to think about because recent days had been full of tasks in the service of Knut Eriksson. Much had happened, and he wasn’t sure whether he understood Knut’s intentions behind all of it.

When they returned to Forsvik after their successful journey to Visingo, they were able to sail right into the harbor, such was the difference in the ice after only one day. Knut immediately dispatched a messenger relay to Arnas and Magnus Folkesson, who would send word on to Joar Jedvardsson at Eriksberg. First their own kinsmen had to be informed about what had happened, for soon armies would be assembling for war.

Arn had been prepared to ride with the news, thinking that it would arrive sooner that way. But Knut had said that there were important tasks that required Arn’s assistance on behalf of his king; he could ride to Cecilia after everything that had to be done was done.

First Knut and Arn had to sail across Vattern again with both horses and retainers, and then ride together to Bjalbo and let Birger Brosa know what had happened. There was not a single day to lose, for ignorance could be the same as death; all their kinsmen had to be rallied in time before the enemy attacked. Besides, it was only right that Birger Brosa be informed about what had happened by one of his own who had also been involved in the outlaw’s demise on Visingo. Likewise it was important to meet with the next most important man, Archbishop Stephan in Ostra Aros. Knut had to win over both Birger Brosa and the archbishop to his cause, and both these men were close to Arn. Arn had nothing to say against this.

When they came riding into Bjalbo, Birger Brosa had received them at first as if they were only young men arriving for a visit with kinsmen, and he apologized that he would have to leave the next day because he had important business in Linkoping. But when they were left alone at Knut’s request and Birger Brosa learned what had transpired, he no longer spoke of taking a business trip. No one from Bjalbo would set foot in Linkoping for a long time, since it had been Karl Sverkersson’s town and would now become Boleslav’s or Kol’s.

Birger Brosa sat in dull silence, pondering, without revealing with the slightest expression what his thoughts might be. Suddenly he sprang up and said that there was only one choice. Now the entire Folkung clan must stand as one man behind Knut Eriksson in his effort to take back his father’s crown. It was the only way. They had to stand united against the Sverker clan and their Danish hangers-on. They had to show strength and resolve, just as they had to make the most intelligent use of the advantage they now held in terms of time and knowledge.

Considering the condition the ice had been in the day before when Karl Sverkersson met his doom out in Lake Vattern, it would take another day before the news spread to the mainland. Birger Brosa took it upon himself to use that information in Eastern Gotaland, but he proposed that Knut also had to act swiftly and set off for Ostra Aros immediately. He needed to win over Archbishop Stephan to his side if possible, and then try to rally the Swedes to a
ting
at Mora Stones in order to elect a new king. All this had to be done quickly, so there was no more time for a visit or a rest. Everything was to be done as Birger Brosa had said.

Knut Eriksson agreed at once with Birger Brosa’s plan, since he knew full well that Birger Brosa was the wisest of men in regard to everything having to do with the struggle for power. But when they were getting ready to depart, Knut made one request that Arn found hard to understand. He wanted them to fetch from the Bjalbo armory Folkung shields, blue mantles, and pennants to fly from the lances, as well as a large group of retainers. Birger Brosa had nodded his assent immediately, as if he understood precisely what Knut Eriksson was thinking with this request. But Arn had also come to realize that the thoughts of men like Knut and Birger often traveled along entirely different paths than his own.