The Road to

Jerusalem

b o o k  o n e  o f  t h e

Crusades Trilogy

JAN GUILLOU

Translated from the Swedish by Steven T. Murray

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

—george herbert, Jacula Prudentum, no. 170, 1651

Cast of Primary Characters

the folkung clan (including the bj

Magnus Folkesson, master of Arnäs

Fru Sigrid, first wife of Magnus Folkesson and mother of Eskil and Arn

Erika Joarsdotter, second wife of Magnus Folkesson

Eskil Magnusson, first son of Magnus Folkesson

Arn Magnusson, second son of Magnus Folkesson

Birger Brosa, younger brother of Magnus Folkesson

the erik clan

King Erik Jedvardsson, king of Svealand

Joar Jedvardsson, brother of Erik Jedvardsson

Kristina Jedvardsson, wife of Erik Jedvardsson (and kinswoman to Fru Sigrid)

King Knut Eriksson, son of Erik Jedvardsson

the sverker clan

King Sverker, king of Eastern Götaland

Queen Ulvhild, first wife of King Sverker

King Karl Sverkersson, son of King Sverker and Ulvhild Rikissa, second wife of King Sverker

Knut Magnusson, son from Rikissa's first marriage, later king of Denmark

Emund Ulvbane (aka "Emund One-Hand")

Boleslav and Kol, half brothers of King Karl Sverkersson the pÅl clan

Algot Pålsson, steward of Husaby

Katarina Algotsdotter, older daughter of Algot

Cecilia Algotsdotter, younger daughter of Algot

the clergy (cistercians from france)

Father Henri de Clairvaux, prior of Varnhem

Brother Guilbert de Beaune, the weapons smith

Brother Lucien de Clairvaux, the gardener

Brother Guy le Breton, the fisherman

Brother Ludwig de Bêtecourt, the music master

Brother Rugiero de Nîmes, the chef

Archbishop Stéphan

the danes

King Sven Grate of Denmark

Magnus Henriksen, the king-slayer

Chapter 1

In the year of Grace 1150, when the ungodly Saracens, the scum of the earth and the vanguard of the Antichrist, inflicted many defeats on our forces in the Holy Land, the Holy Spirit descended upon Fru Sigrid and gave her a vision which changed her life.

   Perhaps it could also be said that this vision had the effect of shortening her life. What is certain is that she was never the same again. Less certain is what the monk Thibaud wrote much later, that at the very moment the Holy Spirit revealed itself to Sigrid of Arnäs, a new realm was actually created up in the North, which at the end of the era would come to be known as Sweden.

   It was at the Feast of St. Tiburtius, the day regarded as the first day of summer, when the ice melts in Western Götaland. Never before had so many people gathered in Skara, since it was no ordinary mass that was now to be celebrated. The new cathedral was going to be consecrated.

   The ceremonies were already into their second hour. The procession had made its three circuits around the church, moving with infinite slowness because Bishop Ödgrim was a very old man, shuffling along as if it were his last journey. He also seemed a bit confused, because he had read the first prayer inside the blessed church in the vernacular instead of in Latin:

God, Thou who invisibly preserveth everything but maketh Thy power visible for the salvation of humanity,

take Thy house and rule in this temple,

so that all who gather here to pray

might share in Thy solace and aid.

   And God did indeed make His power visible, though whether for the salvation of humanity or for other reasons is unknown. It was a pageant like none ever seen before in all of Western Götaland: there were dazzling colors from the vestments of the bishops in light-blue and dark-red silk with gold thread, there were overpowering fragrances from the censers which the canons swung as they walked about, and there was a music so heavenly that no ear in Western Götaland could ever have heard its like before. And if you raised your eyes it was like looking up into Heaven itself, but under a roof. It was inconceivable that even the Burgundian and English stonemasons could have created such a high vault that would not come crashing down, if for no other reason than that God might be angry at the vanity of attempting to build an edifice that could reach up to Him.

   Fru Sigrid was a practical woman. Because of this some people said that she was a hard woman. She had absolutely not wanted to set off on the difficult journey to Skara, since spring had come early and the roads had softened to a sea of mud. She was uneasy at the thought of sitting in a wagon that jolted and bounced and careened back and forth, in her blessed condi tion. More than anything else in this earthly life, she feared the coming birth of her second child. And she knew very well that if a cathedral was being consecrated, it would mean standing on the hard stone floor for several hours and falling to her knees repeatedly in prayer. She was well versed in the many rules of church life, surely far better than most of the noblemen and their daughters surrounding her just now, but she had not acquired this knowledge through faith or free will. When she was sixteen years old her father, with good reason, took it into his head that she was paying too much attention to a kinsman from Norway of far too low birth, which might have led to something that belonged only within the sacrament of marriage, as her father gruffly summed up the problem. So she had been sent away for five years to a convent in Norway. She probably never would have been released if she hadn't come into an inheritance from a childless uncle in Eastern Götaland; thus she became a woman to be married off instead of languishing in a convent.