Birth Of The Kingdom Part 27

With these words Arn rode off to the side and drew his sword. Then he bowed his head in prayer, which looked more like a prayer of thanksgiving than a plea for his own life.

Ebbe Sunesson was one of the few men present who had no idea of the reputation of the combatant he had chosen for the duel. With a triumphant expression he now drew his sword and galloped toward Arn. A moment later his head fell onto the snow.

Sverker Karlsson, his archbishop Valerius, and a few other men went back to Denmark. They were among the twenty-four who returned. The army that Valdemar the Victor had sent against the Swedes and Goths had been more than twelve thousand strong. The killing and plundering at Lena went on all night in the blaze of fires and continued into the next day.

King Erik, who now withdrew for the winter to his castle at Nas, had received the crown from Sverker's own hand. Erik had been wise to handle the matter in this way, because not even the Holy Roman Church could contest that he was truly the new king of the Swedes and Goths.

But he had also spared Sverker Karlsson's life, in spite of the fact that he easily could have killed him. That was a n.o.ble act, worthy of a king. But not a wise decision, as circ.u.mstances would show a few years later.

The victory at Lena was the greatest in man's memory in the North, and it was given many heroes. For the Eriks, most of whom had found themselves cut off in the southern part of Western Gotaland and unable get to Lena, the victory belonged without a doubt to King Erik alone. He had withstood a difficult trial and proved himself worthy of the king's crown.

In the view of most of the Folkungs, it was the new Folkung cavalry that had been decisive. And if anyone objected that it was mostly the longbow archers who had crushed the Danes, every Folkung would reply that in that case it was their own house servants, thralls, caretakers, and peasants who had done what their masters ordered them to do.

Yet the strangest explanation for the remarkable victory at Lena came from the Swedes. It was during this time in Svealand that the saga spread about how the G.o.d Odin, after long absence, had reappeared. Many Swedish warriors said they had seen Odin with their own eyes; he was wearing a blue mantle and riding his steed Sleipner to lead the Swedes out to the battlefield.

This blasphemous explanation about the pagan G.o.d Odin as sire of the victory galled all the bishops in the three lands. As if with one voice and from ostra Aros, Strangnas, and orebro, to Skara and Linkoping the bishops preached that G.o.d the Father, in His inscrutable mercy, had granted this victory to the Swedes and Goths and King Erik. There was one good thing about this conviction so loudly proclaimed by the bishops; it meant that King Erik had triumphed with G.o.d's support and clearly demonstrated will. For this reason, the bishops all showed up to a man at the council meeting at Nas to a.s.sure everyone that Erik was now the incontestable king of the realm. But when he then asked them to set the crown on his head, they argued that such could be done only by the archbishop. And the one who would appoint a new archbishop to succeed Valerius would be the new Danish archbishop Andreas Sunesson in Lund. Yet no sign of good will could be expected from him; he was not only King Valdemar the Victor's man, but he was also the brother of the felled Danish commanders Ebbe, Lars, Jakob, and Peder. The only one of them to be given a Christian burial back in Denmark was Ebbe Sunesson, although he had to travel home missing his head.

The fact that Denmark was to appoint the archbishop for the Swedes and Goths was certainly unreasonable, and a better arrangement would no doubt be made after a letter was sent to the Holy Father in Rome. Yet it was not something that could be accomplished quickly.

Nevertheless, it was rea.s.suring for the young king to have the bishops of the realm on his side from the very beginning. This newly established goodwill on the part of the bishops was also of benefit to the Folkungs because the clerics now stopped their surly resistance toward consecrating the church at Forshem to G.o.d's Grave. The church had been finished several years ago, but could not yet serve as the house of G.o.d. King Erik himself rode to Forshem to honour Arn Magnusson, his marshal and the one who commissioned this church, at the consecration.

The friends.h.i.+p between King Erik and Arn had grown even stronger. In Arn's eyes, Erik had quickly changed from a youth greedy for simple pleasures into a man of great solemnity and dignity. For Erik, who had now seen his marshal in a war against overwhelming enemy forces, there was no doubt who was the true architect of this victory. And he didn't hesitate to give full credit to Arn before the worldly members of his council, although in the presence of the bishops he found it wise to declare that the victory had been given to them by the hand of G.o.d.

Arn was not opposed to encouraging the bishops to talk of David versus Goliath, since every such more or less astute comparison from the prelates served to reinforce the idea that Erik had triumphed through G.o.d's will and was thereby ent.i.tled to wear the crown.

But in his own heart Arn had more doubts. Earlier in his life he had seen far too many apparently inexplicable victories or defeats to be genuinely convinced of G.o.d's intervention in every little human struggle on earth. In Arn's experience, it was foolish commands on one side of the conflict that usually spelled victory for the other side.

And the Danes had been foolish in more ways than one, as well as arrogant. They had seriously underestimated their enemy, and they had depended almost exclusively on heavy cavalry, even though they should have realized that they would encounter snow. Their greatest mistake was not antic.i.p.ating the longbow archers, and thus they had forced their entire army to ride to its death all at once. So many serious misjudgments could end only in defeat.

Yet as the marshal of the realm, Arn's chief responsibility was to warn against pride. Such a great victory as occurred at Lena could never be repeated if the Danes decided to return. No doubt they wouldn't come back soon, since it would take time to replace such a large army; so many riders, horses, weapons, and armour had been lost.

After the Swedes had finished their plundering of the battlefield at Lena, which went on for two days, all the equipment, saddles, and arrows collected were transported on fifteen fully loaded ox-carts to Forsvik. The plundered goods were more than enough to outfit two hundred new heavy riders.

They also obtained important information from the conquered armour. The Danes had a new way of protecting themselves against arrows and swords. Their helmets were stronger and offered better protection for the eyes. And some of their chain mail was not made of linked rings but rather from whole steel plates, like the scales on a fish; not even the long needle-sharp arrow points could penetrate such armour.

This information created many new tasks for the Wachtian brothers, prompting them to replicate the best of the Danish armour and also to think up new weapons that might work better than those they already had. One new weapon was the long war hammer, with a hammerhead on one side and a short, sharp pike on the other, which could puncture a hole in any type of helmet. Another weapon that they spent much time discussing with Arn was a light crossbow for riders that required only one hand for shooting arrows. It took time to develop this weapon, since it had to combine seemingly incompatible traits. It had to be strong enough to pierce steel plates and yet light enough to shoot with one hand from horseback, since the rider's other hand had to hold the reins and his s.h.i.+eld.

After much effort the Wachtian brothers finally produced a weapon that would allow a light rider to move in close to a heavy enemy and slay him with a single, infallible shot.

The marshal of a realm needed to prepare for the worst. That was Arn's firm conviction, and he was quick to say so whenever given the opportunity. Other councillors and kinsmen seemed convinced that they were now living in favourable times and with eternal peace, since the victory at Lena had been so monumental.

The worst that might happen would be for the Danes to return with just as many heavy riders in the summer; this time they would not underestimate the enemy or be enticed into the sun-dimming cloud of arrows shot by the longbow archers.

The Danes' greatest weapon was the number of heavily armoured hors.e.m.e.n. An attack launched by a large group of such riders would strike like an iron fist through any army, provided they were sent into battle at the proper moment.

The lack of heavy riders was the greatest weakness of the Goths, but it was worse for the Swedes. This simple but grim conclusion brought about a thorough change in the exercises carried out at Forsvik during the next few years. All adult Folkung men were sent there to obtain new armour, both for themselves and their horses. Then they had to practice in the fields around Forsvik that had been turned into an arena, where no gra.s.s grew any longer. Arn's own son, Magnus Mneskold, was among the many men who arrived to learn the methods required for this new way of waging war.

It was of course easier to train heavy riders. They needed to do little more than ride close together with lowered lance, but without hesitation when the battle started. The trick was not to send them into the wrong situation. For this reason Arn thought the young riders at Forsvik should take responsibility for them. But the foremost of the Folkungs thought this was an unreasonable demand. Men like Magnus Mneskold and Folke jarl couldn't possibly take orders from youths young enough to be their own sons. Such an arrangement would never have worked in the lands of the Goths or the Swedes.

In the new knights' hall at Forsvik, Arn had requested that a big box of sand be brought in. There he gathered the young knights and squadron commanders a couple of times each week, shaping in the sand hills and valleys, using pine cones and spruce cones to represent cavalry or phalanxes of foot-soldiers. By this simple device he tried to teach them what he knew of what had happened on the battlefield. But only the young men wanted to learn such things; all of the older Folkungs believed far more in their own courage and that of their kinsmen rather than in anything they could learn from pine cones.

Another way to prepare for the war that no one thought would come, not even Arn, was to establish new Forsvik schools. Sir Sigfrid Erlingsson had inherited his own estate on Kinnekulle, and there he began to train young men, as well as at least a hundred longbow archers from among the peasants and thralls. Sir Bengt Elinsson now had two estates, since he had inherited Ymseborg from his parents and algars from his maternal grandfather. At Ymseborg he created his own school, and he sold algars to Arn and Eskil. They in turn gave the estate to Sir Sune Folkesson, provided he took it upon himself to train at least three squadrons of light riders and two hundred longbow archers. Forsvik itself was becoming more and more a school and weapons smithy for heavy cavalry.

It was particularly hard for Sune Folkesson to part with Arn and Cecilia. In confidence he told them the whole story of the great love between himself and King Sverker's daughter Helena, how their love could have cost them both their heads, and how he had sworn that one day he would take a squadron of Folkungs to fetch Helena from Vreta cloister. There she still sat, withering away, even though her father had fled with his tail between his legs to Denmark.

Cecilia and Arn were probably the two people in all of Western Gotaland who would be most moved by such a tale. They had never betrayed their love for each other, nor had they ever lost hope, and their virtue had been rewarded.

Yet Arn responded with great harshness toward Sune's hopes of gaining permission to ride at once to Vreta.

Abducting a maiden from a convent, and that was what it would be called no matter now willingly Helena came running, would provoke all of the bishops. And such internal strife was not something that the fragile new realm could tolerate. As long as Sverker, the former king, was still alive, he was the only one who could give her hand in marriage; that was a right that no one could take from him. And as long as that was so, taking Helena in such a fas.h.i.+on would be considered stealing her from the cloister. It didn't matter how much the two young lovers wished to think otherwise.

Arn could see only one possibility for Sune, and that would be a great misfortune for others at the same time. If Sverker came back with another Danish army, if King Valdemar the Victor truly hadn't had enough of seeing his men obliterated, then taking Helena from the cloister would be a different matter. Because then King Sverker would be dead.

Even Cecilia, who felt great sympathy for the love of these young people, could do nothing but dread what her husband had just described. Stealing a maiden from a cloister was a heinous deed and, in addition to upsetting all the bishops, it was an unforgivable sin.

Hence there was only one man in the realm who hoped for another big war, and that was the dejected Sir Sune, who now set off for algars to start his life as a teacher of warriors on his own estate. Arn sent with him all the Saracen builders who still remained in order to build stone walls where the burned wooden walls had once stood.

On the mild spring day when Alde Arnsdotter turned seventeen, a feast bigger than any in a long time was held at Forsvik. Since there were fewer young n.o.blemen in training than in previous years, there was room for all the Christians and even people of other faiths in the great hall. A joyous mood spread, as if everyone at Forsvik were of the same clan, even though they might not all speak the same tongue. Forsvik was not only the biggest weapons manufacturer in the realm but also a place where much wealth was created, and all the Forsvikers contributed to this endeavour. Smiths, gla.s.smasters and coppersmiths, feltmakers and saddlemakers, hunters and millers all considered themselves just as much Forsvikers as the young n.o.blemen or their teachers. Alde was also much loved by everyone because of her merry laugh and the interest that she showed in everyone's particular skill.

Both she and young Birger Magnusson had now spent seven years studying with Brother Joseph; they had learned everything they could from him, and he had now started over with a small group of Christian children. Alde would one day inherit Forsvik, and the skills that she would need then could not be taught by Brother Joseph. Instead, Cecilia had started teaching her daughter the secrets of keeping account books, which were both the heart and soul of all the wealth that was created with one's own hands and through the work of others. So that Alde might better understand what this accounting could reveal, she accompanied her mother to speak with all the workers and tried to find out about even the smallest details of every task.

For Birger Magnusson, his time with Brother Joseph was also over, and he was now in his third year of training with the young n.o.blemen, with Sigurd in command. Since he was Arn's grandson, Birger was favoured with something not bestowed on ordinary young n.o.blemen. Arn's lectionis lectionis in the knights' hall regarding battlefield logistics was really only intended for the Forsvikers who had been knighted or who commanded a squadron. But from now on, Birger was invited to join these sessions. in the knights' hall regarding battlefield logistics was really only intended for the Forsvikers who had been knighted or who commanded a squadron. But from now on, Birger was invited to join these sessions.

Arn had more time for both the young people than ever before at Forsvik. His brother Gure took care of everything that had to do with the workshops and construction; Cecilia supervised all the trade by s.h.i.+p; and the young knights and commanders trained the new Folkung youths with regard to sword, lance, and horse. Arn had gained more time in his daily life, or at least a new vision of how he could devote more hours to something that he had neglected for too long. Part of this had to do with his own daughter Alde and her cousin, Birger.

Arn had no doubt that Brother Joseph had taught them well the two most important languages of Latin and Frankish, for he was able to speak with them as easily in either of those tongues as in their own language. Nor did he doubt that Brother Joseph had pounded into their heads philosophy and logic, grammar and the Holy Scriptures.

But there was something else that a Cistercian, no matter how G.o.d-fearing and learned, could not know, something that was not found in books and could only be learned on the battlefield or at royal council meetings and from the mightiest men of the church. There was no word to describe this type of knowledge, but Arn called it learning about power. He began giving private lectionis lectionis for Alde and Birger on this topic. for Alde and Birger on this topic.

According to Arn, the most important thing to learn about power was to understand that it could be both evil and good, and that only a well-trained eye could distinguish one from the other. Power could rot or wither just like the roses that grew in great abundance around the house where he and Cecilia lived, as well as in the gardens down by the lake. Cecilia's gentle hands tended to these beloved roses from Varnhem, making use of both shears and water.

And it was not difficult to understand what the water of life was: it was G.o.d's Word, the pure and unselfish belief that could make power grow as a force for good.

Strength was power, of course; many iron-clad knights represented strength, and hence power. But a G.o.d-fearing person had to use strength correctly, for as Paul said in the epistle to the Romans: 'We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. Each of us should please his neighbour for his good, to build him up.'

These words of G.o.d were of course about the water of life, and it was in accordance with these words that they tried to live and build at Forsvik.

The most difficult thing to understand was how much the clear water of faith could muddy the minds of people, which was what had happened in the Holy Land. Yet it was necessary to try to see the direction in which this folly of faith was headed before it was too late. And that was only possible by using reason. No bishop's mitre was greater than reason.

Arn admitted that if he had said such things during the time that he was a knight in the Templar Order of G.o.d and the Holy Virgin, his mantle would have been torn from him, and he would have been sentenced to a lengthy penance. For many of the faith's highest guardians, there was no difference between faith and reason, since faith was everything, great and indivisible, while reason was merely the vanity or conceit of a single person. But G.o.d must have wished for human beings, His children, to learn a great and important lesson from the loss of His Grave and the Holy Land. What other intention could there be in such a harsh punishment?

And what they had learned was that conscience was power's bridle. Power without conscience was doomed to lapse into evil.

But power was also trivial and as exhausting and monotonous as the daily toil of a farmer in his field. On several occasions Arn took Alde and Birger along to the king's council meetings at Nas. There they were allowed to sit as quiet as mice behind Arn and Eskil, who had now reclaimed his seat on the council. Everything that they saw and heard was then discussed for days back home at Forsvik. Power was also the ability to unite the conflicting wishes of various individuals, which was an especially important trait in a king. King Erik often found that the council's worldly members had an entirely different view of how to manage the realm than the bishops did, who were less interested in building fortresses, the cost of new cavalry, or Danish taxes. They preferred to talk about gold and silver for the church or possibly about new crusades to the lands of the east that were still being plundered. The king's power was not to speak in a loud voice, slam his fist on the table, and turn red in the face. It was to coax all the council members, worldly as well as ecclesiastical, to reach a mutual decision; perhaps no one would be entirely satisfied with it, but neither would anyone be completely dissatisfied. When King Erik used this method to accomplish what he had intended, though never at the cost of discord in the council, he showed that there was another side to power. Blessed Birger Brosa had been the strongest advocate of this type of power among all the Folkungs.

Yet another side of power was that used most effectively by Eskil, Alde's paternal uncle and the brother of Birger's paternal grandfather, Arn. Power as strong as that of the sword could be found in trading transactions between various countries and in the flow of wealth that such trade set in motion.

Pure faith guided by conscience, the sword, and gold were the three pillars upon which power rested. Many men felt themselves called to serve one of these aspects of the trinity of power, but few were able to master all three. Yet kings had to possess great knowledge of everything pertaining to this trinity of power, otherwise they would be deposed like King Sverker.

Cecilia was not convinced that these types of conversations were what her daughter needed most, and deep in her heart she thought that it was a great risk, at a place like Forsvik, for a young woman to be raised like a man. The manner in which Alde rode could not described as befitting a fair maiden's hand, even though she'd been given one of the most gentle of the Arabian fillies on her twelfth birthday. But it had proved impossible to keep her away from the horses.

Since Cecilia was herself an excellent rider, she had at first tried to keep Arn and the young n.o.blemen away from Alde's horseback lessons, choosing to teach her daughter on her own. But she couldn't be everywhere at once, and the accounts took much of her time each day. Soon she saw Alde racing with Birger and other young men. It did little good for Cecilia to fret or worry about the matter.

And when the great game drive of the autumn arrived with the first snow for tracking, Alde was one of the hunters positioned at the pa.s.s while all of Forsvik's riders set off in a long horseshoe-shaped loop to drive in the wild game. Already during her second year, Alde shot her first wild boar.

Yet this time was like the harvest of her life, Cecilia realized. Her hair had turned grey, as had Arn's, and now they were both closer to death than to birth. But it was glorious to be alive when everything was going so well for them, and no evil or danger was in sight, even far in the distance where the heaven and the earth met.

She would remember even the last Christmas before the war as a time of calm and confidence.

They had celebrated the Christmas ale at Arnas in the big, warm stone hall with log fires; never had life seemed so good. At the dawn church service on Christmas Day at Forshem, Arn could now without embarra.s.sment show his pride at what he had commissioned to be built, even the fact that his own image was depicted above the church door as the one handing the keys of the church to G.o.d. Since it had become easier to talk with the bishops after the victory at Lena, many of them had a.s.sured Arn that such an image represented neither a sin nor pride. On the contrary, it offered a good example to everyone. For what better deed than to pay for such a beautiful church and please G.o.d by consecrating it to His Grave?

The image of the grave was located in the centre aisle, in front of the altar, and it had been adorned with Master Marcellus's best work. At this last Christmas service before the war, Arn and Cecilia sang the hymns for the ma.s.s alone, she providing the first voice, he the second. Their voices may not have been as pure as before, but everyone thought that they could see G.o.d's angels standing before them when they heard their song.

The Danes came in the middle of summer in 1210, two and a half peaceful years after the victory at Lena. Sverker Karlsson was determined to take back his crown, and unfortunately he had persuaded King Valdemar the Victor to give him a new army, which was almost as big as the one wiped out during the winter war.

At first word of the enemy's arrival in the realm, Arn headed south from Forsvik with three squadrons of light riders to procure information; at the same time requests for help were sent to both Svealand and Norway.

This time it would not go as easily, Arn realized on the second day as he and his hors.e.m.e.n rode along the length of the Danish army. And when he came to the middle where Sverker Karlsson and his bishop Valerius were riding, his heart clenched in pure, cold terror; he hadn't had that feeling since his first years in the Holy Land. Around Sverker Karlsson rode almost a hundred men in the uniform of the Hospitallers, their red s.h.i.+elds and surcoats marked with the white cross.

What would have induced the Hospitallers to ally themselves with Sverker Karlsson or with King Valdemar the Victor? It was not easy to understand, but one thing was sure: a hundred Hospitaller knights was almost the equivalent of a hundred Templar knights, and such a force would have been feared by Saladin himself. No one in the North would be able to defeat it.

Like a Templar knight, each Hospitaller knight would be comparable to ten Danes or five Forsvikers. What astonished Arn the most, once he'd reconciled himself to having to fight against the best knights in the world, was that they were not riding at the head as they normally did. That was how it had always been in the Holy Land. The Hospitallers rode in the vanguard and the Templars took the rear, because these two locations were the most exposed for an army on the march. But here the Hospitallers were riding in the middle, leaving both the supply train in the rear and the Danish knights furthest forward in danger of attack by light cavalry. Arn guessed that the Danes had decided that the protection of Sverker Karlsson's life was most important in this war. Hence they would rather take losses in the front and rear than risk the life of their pretender to the crown.

This time the Danish army was headed for Falkoping, as if they intended to return to Lena to avenge their previous defeat. Because it was the middle of summer and the harvest had not yet been brought in, it was not grain but meat and draft animals that the enemy could plunder for their own provision. And even though the Danish army was least protected at the rear, where all the ox-carts with the supplies were travelling, it would not be wise to attack there until the enemy had pa.s.sed Falkoping.

More important would be to ride back and warn the inhabitants of Falkoping and try to get them to hide all the oxen and livestock that otherwise would end up in the maws of the Danes. It took two days to get this done, but when the Danish army arrived, Falkoping was emptied of everything that the enemy most would have wanted to plunder.

Arn was more cautious in his command than he had ever been before, and it was almost a week before he did anything but ride back and forth along the enemy's serpentine column of foot-soldiers and riders. He was awaiting reinforcements from both Bengt Elinsson and Sune Folkesson; when they arrived he not only had more light cavalry but also a squadron of heavy riders. Then he could not afford to wait any longer.

Together with Sir Bengt and Sir Sune he had quickly decided on how the first attack should proceed. But it had to be launched at the right place so they could carry it out at high speed. It was a few more days before the Forsvikers found a high hill with spa.r.s.e leafy forest where the Danish army would have to pa.s.s. There they took up position and waited.

By this time the Danes had become accustomed to seeing constantly in the distance the blue-clad light riders who never seemed to venture into battle. So the first attack did not come merely like lightning from a clear blue sky, but surprised them even more because of its great force. Three squadrons of light cavalry suddenly thundered down from a beech forest to the side and front of the head of the Danish army. As they approached the riders fanned out into a long row and rode in close, each man firing his crossbow and leaving behind a tumult of shrieking horses and Danes howling in pain. If they got close enough they aimed at the enemy's legs. If they struck home the enemy had one knight less and one more wounded man to drag along. If they missed then they usually killed a horse.

When the last of the light Forsvikers rushed by, the heavy cavalry came in from the side at high speed. Their own hors.e.m.e.n scarcely got away before the knight squadron with lances lowered crashed into the already heavily mangled Danish group in the forefront. Just as quickly as the Forsvikers attacked they were gone, and more than a hundred enemy lay dead or severely wounded.

Two days in a row they repeated essentially the same attack. When the Danes then moved up infantry with s.h.i.+elds and bows to protect the front, nothing more happened up there. Instead the Forsvikers a.s.saulted the rear of the army, killing almost all the draft animals and setting fire to large parts of the provisions. Then they dashed away before the knights wearing the white cross on the red field came to the rescue. Arn had strictly ordered his men to avoid any battle with these knights.

When the Danes improved their protection with infantry and archers both in front and in the rear, the attack came instead a third of the way along, where most of the infantry marched in close formation. Arn led the heavy cavalry straight through the Danish army and left a wide swath of fallen and wounded behind, wherever the light Forsvikers rode in with swords drawn.

The war continued in this manner for a week as the Danes slowly advanced toward the same region to the west of Lake Vattern as the previous time. It was hard to know what they now had in mind. In the winter they had the opportunity to cross the ice to Nas, but in the middle of summer? Arn guessed that they intended to entrench themselves at the fortress of Lena, or first take it and then wait for the winter and ice while they were already in place, instead of trudging all the way up from Denmark in the snow. So there was plenty of time, and the important thing was to take action wisely and with patience and not venture too early into a great battle.

Arn left the command of his cavalry forces to Bengt Elinsson and Sune Folkesson and rode up to Bjalbo, where the Swedes and the rest of the Folkungs and Eriks would gather. This time the Eriks had not been trapped in the south, but were able to travel north along the eastern sh.o.r.e of Lake Vattern. King Erik was with his kinsmen.

The war council that was held ended unhappily in Arn's opinion. Folke jarl, the leader of the Swedes and Folkungs in Eastern Gotaland, wanted to engage the Danes as soon as possible; he wanted to have the war over before the harvest. King Erik made a protracted attempt to force through the decision that Arn wanted. He said they should wait as long as possible and let the Forsvikers keep hammering at the Danish army in the meantime. The invading force had already been reduced by a couple of hundred riders and was seriously delayed by the loss of so many draft animals and horses. The Danes were the ones in enemy territory, yet they were the ones who had the stronger army for the time being. And they had the most to gain from a pitched battle fought as early as before harvest time.

But the leader of the Swedes, Yngve the Judge, thought that this was the prattle of weak women and hardly worthy of a king from the clan of Saint Erik. Waiting a long time before a battle would enervate every strong man; better to show vigour and courage when the desire to fight was still fresh.

To Arn's disappointment, Folke jarl and Magnus Mneskold were both in favour of going to battle as soon as possible in order to save the harvest. Perhaps they had been struck by pride after the fortunate victory at Lena two and a half years before.

Not even Arn's objection that they should wait for reinforcements from the Norwegians who this time had sent a message with a promise to come in force to help would make the thickheaded Swedes show patience. As usual, they would rather die at once.

It was decided that the entire army would be s.h.i.+pped across Lake Vattern as soon as possible so they could head south and meet the Danes near the same blessed place as last time.

With a heavy heart Arn rode to Forsvik to summon every man who could sit on a horse with a weapon, or load carts with meat, weapons, and s.h.i.+elds, or send messages that they should all gather near Lena.

To Cecilia's dismay he took with him the sixteen-year-old Birger Magnusson as his confanonier confanonier, the one who would ride next to Arn with their new emblem, a blue banner with the Folkung lion on one half and the three Erik crowns on the other. On his own s.h.i.+eld Arn had ordered a red Templar cross to be painted next to the gold Folkung lion, just as Birger Brosa had had a Frankish lily and his son Magnus Mneskold had a half moon. To Cecilia he said that young Birger would be safer as his flag-bearer than anywhere else, for Arn's obligation this time was not to fight without fear, but to keep himself alive until the battle was won. There were far too many in the kingdom who were eager to die quickly.

For eight days Arn and his Forsvikers succeeded in delaying the final battle by constantly attacking the Danish army. But when there was less than a day's ride left before reaching the place south of Lena called Gestilren, where Swedes, Folkungs, and Eriks and the newly arrived Norwegians under Harald ysteinsson awaited, Arn decided that there was no point in being cautious any longer. Now the Forsvikers needed to start attacking the group of Hospitaller knights in the centre of the enemy army; they had a.s.siduously avoided doing so until now. It could not be done without significant losses on their part, but the Forsvikers were the only ones who had the slightest chance against the Hospitallers. Now that the final battle was approaching, although foolishly early, every Forsviker had to do his part.

Arn had put himself at risk by issuing this command. Because how could he keep himself in safety when they were going into battle? He changed over to heavy armour with a new horse and decided that he would lead two squadrons straight in among the red surcoats after the light cavalry had attacked with their crossbows.

The Forsvikers were in a good position inside a forest on a hill, and they prayed as they waited. It was tense and quiet among them; the only sound was an occasional snort of a horse or clinking of a stirrup. Down below, looking through the beech trunks, they could see the Danish army struggling forward with the sun in their eyes, unconcerned and chatting as though they had gratefully relaxed after being left in peace for two whole days. For Arn had been very precise about selecting the right place and angle of sunlight for the attack.

He prayed to G.o.d for forgiveness because he was now going into battle against his own brothers the Hospitallers. He tried to excuse himself by saying that there was no other choice when they came as foes to seize his kingdom and kill those near and dear to him. For once Arn did not pray for his own life, since he found it presumptuous just before an attack on his dear Christian brothers. Then he sent off Sir Bengt and Sir Sune in a wide arc down the hill so that they would come in at an angle with the sun at their backs. He hoped they would kick up so much dust from the dry ground that the enemy would not know before it was too late what was happening on the other side as fast blue-clad riders descended upon the army.

Deus vult, he thought involuntarily as he raised his arm and ordered all the men forward at an easy trot. When they emerged from the woods they took up formation so that they rode close together without leaving the slightest gap, riding knee to knee. Then they sped up to a brisk trot.

Arn kept his eye on the last of the light Forsvikers riding down below who were causing an astonis.h.i.+ng commotion and great fear among the Hospitallers. They did not even change formation into their normal defence.

Then he yelled his signal to charge, which was repeated by all those near him, and in the next moment they were all thundering forward with lances lowered straight in among the red-and-white-clad knights, who fell without resisting, hardly managing to defend themselves at all. The Forsvikers came out on the other side without having lost a single man, and when Arn saw this he turned his entire force and charged back through the red knights at full force. After that the chaos was too great to perform a third attack.

They were missing only two men when they regrouped by the waiting light squadrons. Arn observed the great confusion that prevailed in that part of the army which had seemed to him invincible. Almost a hundred Hospitaller knights had now been killed or wounded. What he saw was impossible, and his mind stood still for a moment. If the Forsvikers with a single attack had vanquished so many Hospitaller knights, it was a miracle from G.o.d. But he didn't believe that G.o.d would smite His own most faithful fighters with such a punishment, nor did he believe that G.o.d was constantly intervening in the petty struggles of humanity here on earth.

The Danes had employed a stratagem of war, he realized. They had falsely dressed themselves in red surcoats with a white cross so they would look like Hospitallers and thus sent fear into the hearts of the enemy. And they had almost succeeded.

Without a word Arn left his b.l.o.o.d.y lance with the closest man, took his confanonier confanonier Birger Magnusson with him, and rode down towards the Danes. He stopped an arrow-shot away and held up both hands in the sign that he wanted to parley. At once six men dressed in red and white rode up to him. Birger Magnusson with him, and rode down towards the Danes. He stopped an arrow-shot away and held up both hands in the sign that he wanted to parley. At once six men dressed in red and white rode up to him.

At first he addressed them politely in Frankish, of which they understood not a word. Then he switched to their own language and asked that the two bodies they had left behind be delivered to them, since they were dear kinsmen who had fallen. The Danes replied that this could not be done without something in return. Arn said that for his part he considered that honour demanded that both sides conduct such business without gain. Then the Danes relented. He asked them about their clothing, and they explained that it had been given to them by G.o.d during a crusade in the east, and that the white cross on the red field was now the emblem of the kingdom of Denmark.

At Gestilren there were several high hills, and there Arn had positioned both his heavy cavalry and his longbowmen, since he didn't believe it would work again to keep all his longbows at the same place; few Danes would ride into that trap for a second time. Down on the plain stood the entire Folkung heavy cavalry under the leaders.h.i.+p of Folke jarl and Magnus Mneskold, and behind them all the crossbowmen, who in turn blocked the way of the already impatient Swedes. Farthest back stood five hundred Norwegian archers that Harald ysteinsson had brought from his home region.

It was an absurd arrangement with everyone standing in everyone else's way. But as if by G.o.d's Providence it was now close to dusk, and the battle would have to wait until the next day. They had the night before them to alter things, in the event it was possible to make the Swedes and the stubborn high-born kinsmen understand that the positioning of the troops in the new type of warfare was more important than courage in the breast.

It was a long night with much argument and troublesome moving about in the dark. But the next morning at dawn, as the Danish army began to be visible through the mist, they were at least better arrayed than the night before.

Arn sat on his horse next to King Erik atop the highest hill along with the entire heavy section of the Forsviker cavalry and two squadrons of light cavalry to protect the king or remove him from danger. For Arn and his heavy riders there was only one task. They had to kill Sverker Karlsson.

Sune Folkesson, who was the one person in the world who most wanted to take the life of the former King Sverker, had requested to ride heavy and next to Arn, who was his master and teacher. Arn could not refuse him this request; he had attempted to put together this group containing only the best and the eldest of the Forsvikers.

From up on their hill they could look out over the entire battlefield. If the Danes sent off their cavalry toward the Eastern Goths and the Swedish foot-soldiers, this time they would have the black clouds of arrows from the longbows falling on them from each side. The Eastern Goths themselves would not attack before they saw a blue flag raised from the king's position. That was what they had finally agreed on.