The Road To Jerusalem (47 page)

In the dusk he found a little hut where a fire was glowing, and next to it stood a tumbledown stable where a cow lowed restlessly when he approached. He surmised that freed or escaped thralls lived here, but he would rather sleep in their hut than out in the cold woods.

He boldly entered the hut to ask for shelter for the night. He now feared nothing, since he could imagine nothing worse than what had already befallen him, and he had silver to offer as payment, which was the honorable and Christian thing to do instead of showing his sword as reason enough for his visit.

Yet he was somewhat shocked by the stooped old woman who sat by the fire stirring a kettle. She spoke in a croaking voice and greeted him not at all politely but with scorn and words that he didn’t understand, saying that such as he should fear the dark, while such as she was a friend of the dark.

Arn answered her calmly and explained that he simply sought shelter for the night so that his horse might not be injured by continuing over the mountain in the dark. He added that he would pay her well for this service. When she didn’t answer he went outside and removed the saddle from Shimal and put him in the stable with the lone skinny cow. When he came back to the hut he unbuckled his sword and tossed it on an empty bunk as a sign that this was where he intended to sleep. Then he pulled a little three-legged stool up to the fire and sat down to warm his hands.

The old woman peered at him suspiciously for a long while before she finally asked if he was someone who had a right to bear a sword, or one who bore a sword anyway. Arn replied that there were various opinions on that matter, but that she in any case had nothing to fear from his sword. As if to calm her he took out the little leather purse Eskil had given him when he left and fished out two silver coins, which he put down next to the fireplace so that they were lit by the glow. She picked up a coin and bit it, which Arn found incomprehensible, as he could not understand how anyone could doubt his word or good intentions. But she seemed satisfied with what her few teeth told her and asked if like all the others he had come here to find out what awaited him in the future. Arn replied that the future lay in God’s hands, and no one else could predict it. She laughed so loud at this that she revealed her gaping mouth with only a few blackened teeth. She stirred her pot in silence for a while and then asked whether he would like some of the soup. Arn politely declined. He was already resigned to a long penance on bread and water.

“In what lies ahead for you in life I see three things, boy,” she said suddenly, as if her alleged vision was pushing forward despite Arn’s lack of interest. “I see two shields; would you like to know what I see?” she went on, squeezing both eyes shut as if to look inside herself. Arn’s curiosity was already aroused, and maybe she saw that too behind her closed eyelids.

“What shields do you see?” he asked, sure that she would now say something foolish.

“One shield has three golden crowns against the sky and the other shield has a lion,” she replied in a new singsong tone, her eyes still shut.

Arn was dumbstruck. He couldn’t conceive of how a solitary old woman far out in the wilderness could have the slightest idea of such things, and even less that she could know who he was, or had been able to guess anything by looking at his clothes. He remembered a story to which he had given little credence, a story told to him by Knut, who said that his father Erik Jedvardsson, out on a crusade, had received a prophecy about the three crowns. But that had happened far away, on the other side of the Eastern Sea.

“What is the third thing you see?” he asked cautiously.

“I see a cross and I hear words with the cross, and what I hear are the words ‘In this sign shalt thou conquer,’” she continued in her singsong way, without any expression on her face or opening her eyes.

Arn thought first that she must have been more sharp-eyed than he realized and read the Latin inscription on the hilt of his sword.

“You mean, ‘I
n hoc signo vinces’?”
he asked to test her. But she merely shook her head as if the Latin words meant nothing to her.

“Do you see a woman in my future?” he asked with some trepidation, which could probably be heard in his voice.

“You will get your woman!” she shrieked in a shrill voice and opened her eyes, staring wildly at him. “But nothing will be as you think, nothing!”

She laughed at him in her hoarse, cackling voice, but it was as if her mood had been broken and he could no longer get a sensible word out of her. Soon he gave up and lay down to sleep on the bunk where he’d tossed his sword. He wrapped his mantle around him, turned to the wall, and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t fall asleep. He tossed and turned for a while, thinking of what the old woman had said, and found that it was both true and meager. The fact that she could see the Folkung and Erik clans inside him was strange, he had to admit. But she hadn’t said anything that he didn’t know for himself. That he would have Cecilia back was reassuring, and that was what he believed. At last he must have fallen asleep.

When he awoke at dawn she was gone, but Shimal was in his place out in the little stable and neighed a welcome as if nothing had happened.

It was after midday when he rode in through the gate of Varnhem cloister, and all the familiar smells washed over him from the gardens and Brother Rugiero’s cookhouse. His arrival was expected but it also aroused some commotion, and two brothers ran to meet him; one led Shimal away and the other escorted him in silence to the lavatorium and then pointed to his clothes. When Arn did not understand, the brother said peevishly that since he was excommunicated he could not be spoken to before he at least washed up a bit. After that he would be given a lay brother’s clothing.

Arn washed himself long and thoroughly and trimmed his long hair as he said the appropriate prayers. In his lay brother’s attire, which felt oddly familiar, he then reported to Father Henri at his favorite place in the arcade. Father Henri looked at him with much sternness but also love. Then he sighed heavily and took out his prayer stole and motioned for Arn to prepare himself for his confession. Arn fell to his knees and prayed to Holy Saint Bernard to give him the strength and honesty to perform this confession, which would not be easy to make.

King Knut Eriksson arrived at Arnas with a royal retinue and Birger Brosa. They were many men and it would take some time to see to it that they were all properly quartered. But they were expected, and it was said in the nearest village that the many hungry and weary men would be received well.

Birger Brosa was impatient for them to hold a council as soon as possible instead of pouring ale into themselves first. Even with King Knut present, arrangements were made immediately as Birger Brosa desired, and those involved with the matter gathered in the hall of the longhouse with only a little ale in their bodies.

They prayed first for the Lord to bless this meeting, and that wise words would be spoken here and not foolish ones. Those phrases sounded so awkward and almost simpleminded that Arn’s absence was felt like a gust of wind passing through the entire hall. But the question of Arn was only one of the many topics they had to discuss.

Birger Brosa was the one who took the floor when they had settled down to begin the council, and he believed that the first concern had to be the
landsting
in Western Gotaland, since much depended on Knut obtaining his second crown, and the sooner the better. No one was opposed.

They then spent a good while deliberating what messages should be sent and how knowledge of the
ting
should be disseminated best and as rapidly as possible. Since nothing that was said on this matter was either new or unfamiliar, this question was also swiftly resolved.

According to Birger Brosa, the next item involved the best way for Knut, once he was elected king, to proceed in order to lift the shame that had befallen the Folkungs with an excommunicated member of the clan. This, said Birger Brosa, was a matter that Knut himself must address.

Knut Eriksson began by assuring them that Arn, as they all knew, was his dearest friend, and that Arn had also done him very great services that had to be reciprocated. In addition, all the good that the Eriks and the Folkungs could do each other had to take precedence above all else. After saying this and more in the same vein, he got to the heart of the matter.

As far as he understood it, an archbishop could without difficulty annul the excommunication ordered by Bishop Bengt in Skara. The problem was that the archbishop had left his see and no one knew where he was. At least he was not in Linkoping, and it would be unfortunate if he had been seized by the Sverker clan, but he was not in Svealand either. Knut’s informants would have heard of this, because an archbishop was not that easy to hide.

Now, these men of God could sometimes prove obstinate. So even if they got hold of the missing archbishop, it was not easy to predict how things would turn out if his king required a decision on matters over which the church claimed authority. Priests could always be threatened, that was clear. The clergy were cov etous and jealous of their lands, and they strove to gain new gifts of property, which could sometimes make them soft in negotiations. Yet it was impossible to say anything more about this before two things had occurred. First, Knut had to be elected king in Western Gotaland as well, just as his dear kinsman and wise adviser Birger Brosa had said. Then he could negotiate from a position of strength with the archbishop. Besides, the prelate must be fished out from his hiding place before they would have a sense of what stand he might take.

Magnus sadly agreed and confirmed that in this matter they could go no further just now. But he wanted to move on to the next most important concern. With such cases undertaken by the church that had to be documented and sent to Rome, much was unclear for ordinary Christian folk. What they knew was that such complicated negotiations could take time. So they had to think about Arn and Cecilia’s child. According to what the womenfolk said, Cecilia would give birth to Arn’s son sometime after midwinter. And the Sverker hag at Gudhem would see to it that the child was cast out as soon as possible; they could certainly count on that. So what should be done?

Knut Eriksson spoke first, saying that if he was quickly elected king in Western Gotaland, he would not without a certain satisfaction engage in a tussle with the Sverker hag at Gudhem. She would be made to understand that she no longer inhabited a safe vessel, which should make her vulnerable in negotiations.

Birger Brosa frowned. First, he pointed out, Knut should think carefully before he inflamed the church as his father had done. It would be better to take another tack, trying to persuade by hook or by crook, rather than using threats. Second, no child born of an unlawful bed could be held in a cloister. That would be too much to ask, and no one would be served by the malicious gossip that would result from such an eventuality. With that, the question seemed quite straightforward: Who would take care of Arn Magnusson’s son? And for that matter, did unlawful sons become lawful when a marriage was later entered into?

Eskil had the answers to both these questions. To make arrangements so that Arn and Cecilia’s child—whether it was a son or not, and he didn’t understand how they all could be so certain of that—ended up with Algot Palsson was not a good idea. Algot was already reported to have muttered that instead of a son-in-law he was going to have a bastard in his house. Such words did not testify to a good attitude. So the child would have to be cared for by the Folkung clan.

And as far as the other matter was concerned, whether unlawful children could become lawful, the answer was simple. If the excommunication could be lifted and the wedding ale that was envisioned between Arn and Cecilia celebrated, then all would be in its proper order once again.

Birger Brosa then said thoughtfully that since he too had infant children and a mother and two extra wet nurses to take care of them, it seemed best if the boy was allowed to come to Bjalbo. No one objected to that.

The last question they had to contend with was of lesser importance but still as vexing as a chafed foot. Algot Palsson had not only grumbled about a bastard in the house, he had also complained out loud and bitterly that a son of Arnas had so mucked up a good business deal that it was obvious it would come to naught. Algot of course was no dangerous foe, and he would think twice before drawing a sword against the Folkungs. Still, it was ill advised for him to be grumbling publicly like that.

Magnus replied with some melancholy that this was merely a matter of the priests’ written report to Rome, and all the associated complications could take a great deal of time. If things moved quickly, then all would be arranged as it was intended from the start. But if the matter dragged on for several years, which such things had been known to do, then the situation would be much worse. In that case, Magnus thought, they ought to make the same bargain as originally intended, although with Katarina as bride and Eskil as bridegroom. For Katarina had just been released from the convent in Gudhem.

A sense of gloom settled over the table. Everyone knew that it was Katarina who was the actual cause of this trouble that had now befallen not only Arn and Cecilia but the whole Folkung clan. It seemed wrong, Eskil said with a sigh, to reward Katarina so highly for her malicious deed.

Birger Brosa responded coldly that it sounded like a wise thing to do, and that young Eskil ought to realize that they were speaking only of business, and not of emotions. So if Arn was not released, Eskil must be prepared to go to the bridal bed with a woman to whom he might not care to turn his back, for fear of inviting a dagger.

There the matter was left. At this table the issues were business and the struggle for power, and love by no means had the final word.

Father Henri had not made the slightest move to give Arn absolution for his sins as he listened to his confession. Nor had Arn expected that he would, because he was excommunicated, and not even a prior like Father Henri could annul an excommunication. In brief Father Henri had explained the nature of Arn’s sin and then sent him to a cell for meditation on bread and water and all the other acts of penance he might expect.