Then Arn took the others by the hand, and they all felt and understood the same thing as Gunvor had when they clasped his calloused hands. They all sat for a while in embarrassed silence.

   Then Gunnar felt that he had to say something before it was too late, for if he did not say something now he would regret it for the rest of his life. It was also a man's way of showing courage and honor to speak bluntly of what he was thinking.

   And Gunnar began to explain, at first in a somewhat abrupt and stumbling fashion, that he and Gunvor for many years had loved each other in secret. They had constantly prayed to God for a miracle that might bring them together, despite the fact that there was no indication of such a possibility and even though both their fathers brushed aside their dreams as childish whims. But Gunnar had felt that he couldn't live without his Gunvor. And she had felt the same. On the day she was led away to the wedding ale, he had not wanted to go on living. And she had not wanted to live either. It may have been Our Lady who finally took pity on them, but it was Arn who had acted in her service and carried out her will.

   Hearing the words of this simple man who was sincerely trying to express the meaning of Grace in his coarse language, Arn felt both respect and gratitude. It was as though what he had already become reconciled with—his conviction that Father Henri's absolution was correct—had served as the scaffolding and the framework of a house but not a finished house. Yet with the gift of love that these simple peasants had received and for which they had now so fervently thanked him, God's humblest instrument, it felt as if the house suddenly stood there finished with the walls and the half-timbering and all the windows in place.

   "Gunnar, my friend," he said, rejoicing inside, "what you have said to me will stay with me forever, of that you can be sure. But all I can give the two of you in thanks are words from the Holy Scriptures, and do not think ill of that before you have heard what words they are. For it was your love that conquered all, and the Mother of God saw your love and then showed you mercy. So hear now the following words of the Lord and let these words forever live in your home and in your hearts:

Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame.

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.

   He had read the text in their own language so that they would understand. He had to repeat it several times to impress it upon their memory, and he told them where in the Holy Scriptures these words of God were found: The Song of Songs 8:6–7.

   When they parted, Gunvor took his hand again and then asked his name. Arn tried for the first time to use his name, the name that belonged to the other world, Arn Magnusson of Arnäs. But he could not do it; he felt arrogant. He told them merely that his name was Arn.

   Gunnar rode off with his betrothed sitting in the saddle in front of him and with his arms around her waist, for as things now stood they still had the strong stallion and there was no reason to walk. He breathed in great gulps of autumn air and he thought it had never smelled freer or more lovely. He rode with his wife-to-be in his arms, feeling the warmth of her body and her pounding heart against his forearm. Together they repeated over and over God's own words about their victorious love.

Darkness fell rapidly that day, and the weather changed to storm. It was impossible to have a conversation outdoors, and they had been told that they could have the parlatorium next to the chapter hall to themselves. As Arn, his cloak flapping in the wind, hurried along the arcade to the meeting, he prayed that Gunvor and Gunnar might be well protected on their way home in the first storm of autumn, protected by more than the love that warmed them. Although he also thought that their love was probably strong enough to protect them against all winds, the winds of life as well as the storm that was on its way.

   Brother Guilbert was already waiting in the parlatorium, thoroughly scrubbed and with his hair still wet, when Arn came in. The three candles that were lit flickered a little as he quickly opened and closed the door. They first said Pater Noster together and then a silent prayer for themselves as they faced what now had to be told.

   When Brother Guilbert finally looked up after his prayers, his gaze was filled with love for his disciple, but also with an unfamiliar sadness that Arn had glimpsed only a few times before.

   "As a brother in this order, my name is Guilbert de Beaune, as you well know," Brother Guilbert slowly began. "But that was also my name in another order which is closely akin to ours; one could call it our armed sister order, which also has the same spiritual father as we do, and you know who that is."

   "Holy Saint Bernard de Clairvaux," said Arn, clasping his hands in front of him on the heavy oak table and bowing his head to show that now he would listen without saying anything himself.

   "True, he and none other," Brother Guilbert went on, taking a deep breath. "He was also the one who created the Holy Army of God, the Order of the Knights Templar, in which I fought for God's cause for twelve long years. I was a soldier in Outremer for twelve years, and I have faced more than a thousand men in battle—good men and bad, courageous and cowardly, skilled and untrained—and none has ever defeated me. As you quite well realize, there is a theological side to this matter too; it is not merely a matter of knowing how to use your hands and feet. But I'll skip over that aspect for now. The fact is that I never met my match with sword or lance, not even on horseback, and I say this not to boast, because you know that none of us in the cloister would do that. I say it because it's true, and so that you will understand from whom you have learned the art of using the sword, lance, shield, bow, and perhaps most important of all, the horse. Before I go on I have to ask you a question out of sheer curiosity. Did this really never occur to you?"

   "No-o," said Arn uncertainly, at the same time bewildered that for all these years and as long as he could remember he had crossed swords with a divinely blessed master. "No, at least not at first, because it was just you and I. But afterwards when I thought about the men who tried to kill me, and the childish and clumsy way they handled their swords, then I began to wonder about things. There was all the difference in the world between them and you, dear Brother Guilbert."