The Road To Jerusalem (49 page)

But this testing would hardly present difficulties for Arn. Acceptance into the order required that one came from a clan with a coat of arms, a rule that Brother Guilbert did not favor because he had seen many warriors in battle who would have been good brothers of the order if not for that very rule. But it was no problem for Arn, who bore the lion of the Folkung clan on his coat of arms. Nor would the other two requirements present any difficulties. Brother Guilbert smiled when he dryly explained that those requirements involved knowing about one-fourth as much as Arn already knew about the Holy Scriptures, logic, and philosophy. And even a fourth of Arn’s skill with weapons should be enough. In addition, of course, he needed letters from the Nordic archbishop and Father Henri. But that was not the important thing; such letters of recommendation were something that many hopeful Frankish sons of counts brought with them. They did not arrive with Arn’s skills. And no one could dispute the clearly expressed will of God.

Arn complained a bit about God’s will, which seemed to have been meted out rather harshly. Why did he first have to be plunged into misfortune and then leave his beloved Cecilia behind in order to fulfill God’s will on the battlefield in Outremer?

Brother Guilbert admitted that he had no answer to that question, but suggested that the answers might reveal themselves with time. However, he said that he had known for many years that this was how things would turn out. Brother Guilbert believed that he had met few if any men with Arn’s abilities, and since God had given him these rare gifts, then there must be a definite reason behind it. And it was probably for the same reason that God had sent Arn to Varnhem at the age of five to be educated in all that would now make him an acceptable Templar knight.

Arn could easily see the logic in this reasoning, but it didn’t assuage his sorrow or his longing.

Brother Guilbert showed Arn some new equipment on which he had worked a long time, using Arn’s measurements. Most important was the chain mail with more than forty thousand rings in two layers and with homespun felt in between and a soft fabric lining on the inside. The chain mail went up over the head, down along the arms to the wrists and far below the knees, yet it was lighter to wear than Nordic chain mail. He had also made pantaloons, which protected the legs and went down around the feet. Anyone dressed in this mail would be protected from top to toe, and this was what the new type of warfare demanded. Finally, Brother Guilbert took out a black mantle with a white cross that covered the entire chest. These were the church colors that Arn had to wear when he accompanied the archbishop, riding as part of his escort to Rome. But it was also the squire’s attire in the order of the Knights Templar, so this meant that Arn would arrive prepared at their castle in Rome. He had the archbishop’s permission to wear the raiment during the entire journey.

Arn felt respect and pride when he tried on these things, but there was no joy in his eyes. Nor had Brother Guilbert reckoned that there would be. But for Arn’s departure two days later he had saved a special surprise which he believed might have the intended effect on the mind of his young apprentice.

Brother Guilbert put his arm around Arn to console him and walked with him down to the farthest horse enclosure as if only for a moment’s conversation. When they reached the stable he didn’t say a word, but only pointed. There stood Arn’s beloved stallion Khamsiin.

Arn was silent at first. Then he called and Khamsiin instantly pricked up his ears and turned his head toward him. The next moment the huge stallion thundered toward him at his fastest gallop and reared before the gate where Arn and Brother Guilbert stood. The horse whirled about a few times, reared again, and whinnied as if shrieking either a complaint or a welcome to a dear friend.

Arn jumped over the gate, threw his arms around Khamsiin’s neck, and showered him with kisses.

“He’s yours now,” said Brother Guilbert. “He is our parting gift to you, Arn de Gothia. For I have learned as a Templar knight that in the Holy War, trust in God is certainly most important. Next comes practice and humility. But after that come good weapons and a horse like Khamsiin.”

When Arn, wearing his black mantle with the white cross, mounted Khamsiin to begin his long journey, his expression was determined but still clearly sorrowful, as it had been since he received his judgment.

All masses had been sung. All words of farewell had been said. But still Father Henri and Brother Guilbert stood there alone with Arn as if to say something more. They had a hard time behaving with Christian dignity, for Arn’s sorrow no doubt pained them even though their conviction was strong that the will of God was to be carried out at last.

“For God and death to all Saracens!” said Father Henri with forced bravado.

“For God and death to all Saracens!” replied Arn, drawing his blessed sword which he held pointed straight to Heaven as he swore this new oath. Then he nudged Khamsiin in the flanks and set off at a leisurely pace.

Father Henri wanted to go back inside the cloister at once, but Brother Guilbert held up a finger as a sign that they should wait a bit, and then he pointed toward Arn.

They remained standing like this, although Father Henri did not understand the purpose of it, but Brother Guilbert was still holding up his index finger as if waiting for something.

Suddenly they saw Arn take a few galloping steps to the right, then to the left, and then he urged his powerful stallion to switch galloping steps to the right and left with each leap, a difficult art as far as Father Henri understood. But Arn’s joy at being able to perform such tricks was unmistakable.

“You see what I see, dear Father Henri,” whispered Brother Guilbert almost reverently. “God preserve Arn, but may God also preserve the Saracens who will encounter him.”

This last seemed incomprehensible to Father Henri, and bordering on blasphemy. But now was not the time to voice reproach, not as they stood and watched Varnhem’s most beloved son ride away forever.

Besides, Father Henri knew full well that Brother Guilbert in certain respects had a peculiar view of Saracens. But he assumed that Arn, who once had been as pure in spirit as Percival, would never be struck by any such scruples. God would surely hold His sheltering hand over a warrior like Arn.

Swedish-born journalist
JAN
GUILLOU
is the creator of the two most successful Swedish works of fiction of all time—the Hamilton series and the Crusades Trilogy. His books have been translated into more than twenty languages.

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