For the first time ever, he decided that there was something that he could not confess.

Chapter 6

Monasterio Beatae Mariae de Varnhemio became the name of the cloister in Varnhem. Father Henri, who now sat in his old scriptorium, felt a shiver of pleasure when he printed the name. It was only right that the Blessed Virgin should have this monastery dedicated to her, since it was she who, by sending Fru Sigrid a vision during the dedication of Skara Cathedral, was most responsible for the genesis of this cloister. And now at last there would be better order here.

   Father Henri in truth had much to rejoice about, and he was now trying to express it all in his long letter. The Cistercians had won a complicated and dangerous game against the emperor of Germany, Frederick I Barbarossa himself. And Father Henri had been allowed to attend in a corner, since his two good friends Archbishop Eskil of Lund and Father Stéphan from Alvastra were present too. Who could have imagined such a development twenty years ago when he and Stéphan had come wandering the long, cold, and gloomy road to the North?

   Emperor Frederick Barbarossa had deposed Pope Alexander III and named his own more docile antipope in Rome. The Christian world thus had to choose sides, either the true pope, Alexander, or the usurper in Rome. The outcome of this strife was in no way certain.

   Many kings feared the German emperor and thus wanted to stand with him; among them unfortunately was King Valdemar of Denmark and several of his more timorous bishops. But Archbishop Eskil of Lund, the friend of the Cistercians, had taken a stand against his king and for the true pope, Alexander III. Because of this, Eskil had been forced into exile.

   The strife, of course, actually dealt with the old story about whether kings and emperors should have power over the Church, or whether the Church would remain exempt from worldly power.

   The Cistercians' countermove had been Svealand and Götaland. King Karl Sverkersson, who did not know enough about Emperor Frederick Barbarossa to fear him, was persuaded to go along with the creation of a new archbishopric comprising Svealand and the two Goth lands. As the situation now stood, it did not make much difference in which city the archbishop's see was placed, as long as it was done. King Sverker had wisely avoided his own city of Linköping in favor of the Swedish city of Östra Aros. That was fine, the Cistercians had reasoned, because the main thing was to strike while the iron was hot.

   And so it came to pass that Father Henri was allowed to attend the meeting in the cathedral in Sens when Eskil, in the presence of the pope himself, anointed Stéphan as archbishop over the new archdiocese of Svealand and the two Goth lands. Since the archdiocese of Norway was also faithful to the true pope, the struggle now turned to the disadvantage of Frederick Barbarossa and his antipope. Eskil had recently been able to return to Denmark in triumph, and Stéphan was already installed in Östra Aros. The battle was won.

   A Cistercian brother holding the position of the third Nordic archbishop was truly no small thing. Varnhem, of course, had already been restored to favor by King Erik Jedvardsson, but now his successor Karl Sverkersson had assured the monastery new properties and new privileges. He had even donated some of his own land to establish a Cistercian nunnery up in Vreta in Eastern Götaland.

   Now that the monastery was finally secure, it was time to make a new attempt to restore it to its former state. For Varnhem had long been languishing with only twelve brothers, whose task it was to repair and maintain the cloister and prevent the property from going to ruin.

   During the years that had passed, Vitae Schola in Denmark had surpassed Varnhem in every respect. For that very reason it was also natural, now that Father Henri had taken on the management of the restoration work at Varnhem, to draw the first new monks from Vitae Schola itself.

   Among those who were called to Varnhem were Brother Guilbert and Arn.

For Arn nowhere was home. Varnhem was not home, just as little as Vitae Schola by the Limfjord was home, or any other place. His home was wherever the brothers were, and, most important, where Brother Guilbert and Father Henri happened to be.

   The difficult part about leaving Vitae Schola had been to leave Khamsiin. Brother Guilbert had decided that Khamsiin had to stay behind for breeding at Vitae Schola. He had explained this to Arn by drawing complicated patterns in the sand show ing which horses had been sired by Khamsiin and which had been sired by Nasir, and why Nasir and a young stallion sired by Khamsiin and Aisha had to go with the caravan to Varnhem, while Khamsiin had to stay at Vitae Schola. Arn had not been able to question this decision.

   The young stallion was dappled red and gray, and after the farewell mass at Vitae Schola Brother Guilbert had told Arn that the young stallion would be named Shimal, which in the secret language of horses meant the North. But when Brother Guilbert saw the sorrow in Arn's eyes he took him aside and explained that this was not a sin, nothing to be ashamed of, to miss his horse. Those who said that a horse was only a thing, a possession without a soul, and therefore not worthy of love, knew nothing. They were correct only in formal terms, but the world was full of men, also good men of God, who were formally right about one thing or another, and yet lacked true understanding. Before God and for many of God's men, it was entirely proper to love a horse such as Khamsiin. This Brother Guilbert swore.

   On the other hand, Arn had to realize that his horses, like his neighbors and his brothers and kinsmen, would all eventually die. Even the simple fact that horses did not live as long as human beings meant that Arn would most likely have to mourn more than one horse. Grief was a part of life, such as God had ordered it.

   Arn let himself be consoled somewhat, but only because it was not sinful to grieve when he was forced to leave Khamsiin behind.

   Although he was now reckoned as a man and not a boy, he couldn't help shedding a tear as the column left Vitae Schola. No one saw it but Brother Guilbert. And no one but Brother Guilbert would have understood the reason. Like Arn, the other brothers and lay brothers had no home anywhere except where brothers resided in God's good world. And what did the others know about horses from Outremer?

   Just before Bartelsmas in late August, the busiest harvesttime and also when the goats were slaughtered in Western Götaland, Arn saw Varnhem's church tower rising up in the distance, at first indistinct like some oddly scraggly or dried-up treetop or one that had been struck by lightning, in the midst of a luxuriant grove of oaks. Later it became very clear.