It was a beautiful morning, and when they rode with their heavy loads down the slopes of Kinnekulle through the sparse oak forest, all the lands of Arnäs lay spread out at their feet. They rode into the rising sun that colored Lake Vänern first in silver and then in gold, and Arn took deep happy breaths of the bracing air. In the distance he saw a reflection from the steeple of Forshem church, and then he could search in the right direction for Arnäs, though he couldn't see it yet.
The slopes of the mountain were mostly covered with dense oak forest and beech woods, but below the mountain great plowed fields spread out, now lying black and silvered with frost. Arn had never thought the world could be this beautiful; God must have created these particular oak slopes and fields in a very propitious moment. He began to sing with joy but saw out of the corner of his eye that his singing seemed to scare Svarte and Kol, so he soon stopped. He pondered whether to ask them what they didn't like about his song, whether it was the White Christ's magic that frightened them or something else. But he changed his mind because he decided that he had to proceed very slowly in his talk with these two who were so much thralls in their minds that freedom seemed to alarm them more than it tempted them.
During their journey the sun climbing in the sky soon melted the frost on the ground and took away the hard sound of the horses' iron shoes. The vast inland sea of Lake Vänern had shifted to a blue color, but they had now come so far down the mountain that they soon would see no more of the sea until they reached home.
They arrived at Arnäs around noon and were greeted with glad shouts that after such a brief hunting trip they could ride in with three deer. The house thralls were happy that Arn was the one who had shot the deer, and they raised their tools or whatever they had in hand and beat them together over their heads, emitting trilling sounds with their tongues. That was the sound the thralls made in welcome and jubilation. Arn couldn't help feeling some pride at this reception, but he instantly said a prayer to Saint Bernard to keep watch over him and warn him of the terrible sin of pride.
They flayed and carved up the deer and carried the skins to the tannery. But now they were no longer out on the hunt, where Arn was a novice. Just as Svarte and Kol could teach him about blood traces and crackling footsteps in the frost, he could teach them how meat should be smoked or hung, and so he now found it natural to make all the decisions.
Algot Pålsson at Husaby owned many farms and woods, but in his own estimation only two treasures. They were his two daughters Katarina and Cecilia, who had now left their childhood behind and were blossoming like two delightful flowers. They were both the light of his eyes, he often said aloud. But since they also displayed clear signs of untamed mind and flirtatious behavior, especially Katarina, who was the older of the two, they were also his greatest worry. But he said nothing of this out loud.
When Katarina was twelve years old he had almost married her off to Magnus Folkesson at Arnäs, and that would have been a great happiness, just as good as a royal marriage. Or even better than royalty, considering how his fields and farms were surrounded by property belonging to either the Folkung or the Erik clan. To be sure, he was King Karl Sverkersson's steward at Husaby itself, which was a royal farm. It was honorable to tend such a place, but being associated so closely with King Karl Sverkersson was not without risks in Western Götaland, for as strong as the Sverker clan was in Eastern Götaland, it was equally weak in Western Götaland. On the day that King Karl was killed by one of the others, as kings usually ended their days, it would not be easy to be living at Husaby as his man.
Which is why the best arrangement would have been if Katarina became the mistress of Arnäs. Then Algot would truly not have put all his eggs in one basket. No matter which clan won the contest for royal power, his clan would be properly allied, securing both their lives and their property.
But it had all come to naught because Magnus Folkesson in the end preferred to marry into the Erik clan instead. Algot could not blame Magnus for this wise move at the same time as he bemoaned his own misfortune. However, it was not too late to solidify a secure position, for Magnus did have a son who was the same age as Katarina and Cecilia, and Eskil would in time become the lord of Arnäs. With a little good will such a betrothal might actually be viewed as a better solution, since otherwise Katarina would have been forced to marry a man in his best years when she was but a child herself.
Still, there was a problem with his daughters' unsuitable behavior. In their associations with young men neither of them displayed the modesty that a father might desire, and since this behavior harmed their reputation and in the worst case risked making it impossible to marry them off, Algot had decided to separate his daughters. When Katarina was home, Cecilia was a novice at the convent in Gudhem. Now it would soon be Ka tarina's turn to go to Gudhem, and she had not a good thing to say about the matter.
It cost a good deal of silver for the nuns to keep the daughters at Gudhem, and silver was the only payment they accepted. But it was worth it, according to Algot, for what he laid out for his daughters would come back sevenfold if they married well. And besides, it gave him a convenient reason to do business with Magnus Folkesson, who was thought to have a limitless amount of silver in his treasure chests. By selling oak forests to Arnäs, Algot obtained the silver he needed, as well as many opportunities, after the business was concluded, to speak of his daughters' good manners, for which the money would be used. In this way he was often able to remind Magnus about the halfway-broken promise of marriage and about the fact that Katarina and Cecilia might still prove a good bargain for both men.
Algot Pålsson had heard only vague rumors about Magnus Folkesson's second son, who was sent to the monastery at a very young age and had now returned to Arnäs. What was said about the boy, however, was not intended to give him great honor, since he was deemed half a monk.
And Arn, as he was called, was obvious to everyone when he came riding in one cold and misty autumn evening two weeks before the big Western Götaland ting at Axevalla. He had two thralls with him, and they were heavily loaded with deer and swine that they now wanted to offer as Husaby's share of their hunt. Magnus Folkesson and Algot had come to an agreement regarding hunting on Algot's land, which was sometimes a better hunting ground than the one down by Arnäs, since the swine in particular made for the acorn woods in the autumn. A fourth of the catch was to be sent to Algot at Husaby as reimbursement.
Their hunt must have been very successful since everything they had with them was to be unloaded at Husaby. When that was done, their intent was to ride home at once, since the older thrall said he could find the way even in the dark.