"To meet Emund Ulvbane in single combat is for many a good man, also better men than those of us who sit here, the same as certain death," he began with a deep sigh. "It is also what King Karl and his advisers have slyly plotted, and that was why Emund was granted land bordering Arnäs, for this very case. My brother Magnus now has to choose between meeting Emund with a sword or becoming a man without honor, and that is a choice I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. But that is how the matter stands, and I have no good advice to give."

   Magnus said nothing, nor did he look as if he wanted to say anything just now. Instead Joar Jedvardsson began to speak.

   "With such offense has King Karl rewarded our striving to keep war at bay," he began heavily. "But the war will come sooner or later, as Karl Sverkersson now has shown, and all of us who sit here understand as much. The reason that my brother's son, the aspirant king Knut Eriksson, chose not to come to this landsting was that then the peace of the ting would be difficult to maintain. But Knut is the one who with falseness and murder on orders from Karl Sverkersson was robbed of his father and his crown, and soon the time will be ripe, as we all know, for us to demand honor again. So I ask you all, my kinsmen, of what use would it be now for Magnus to offer his life? Many a man would follow Magnus Folkesson into battle behind the emblem of the Folkungs, but forgive me if I now speak as frankly as the case demands. It is less certain that as many would follow Eskil Magnusson. If Magnus has to die for our case, if God so wills, then he would die better on the battlefield in the war that must come. Now all of us in the Erik clan and the Folkung clan should at the same time break camp and march away from here. Then we will all have shown together where we stand. That is my opinion."

   "That was wisely spoken, my dear kinsman," said Birger Brosa, but at the same time he squirmed with obvious discomfort, which to those who knew him showed that he probably meant the opposite of what he'd said. "However, the situation is clear. If Magnus does not come to the single combat he is an outcast, a man without honor who is not even competent to bear witness. Such a man cannot lead the Folkungs; it has never happened before and must not happen now. That much we know, but Karl Sverkersson knows it too, just as do his sly advisers who have put us in this predicament. Magnus can choose between only two things. This is difficult for a brother to say, but I must speak the truth. Either he marches off with his life intact but as a man without honor. Or else he goes to a single combat in which only a miracle of the saints can save his life. The latter choice is the better one. For no combat is decided in advance. But he who flees in cowardice has decided everything for the rest of his days. So it is."

   Judge Karle stood up heavily and explained that he had nothing to add to this matter since there was no ambiguity as to the content of the law. And the difficult decision that the three clan leaders now had to make would be no easier because there were more men present. He was shaking his head sorrowfully as he left the tent.

   It was quiet after his departure. They all now turned to hear what Magnus himself would say, for the biggest decision, if not the only one, was his. It was not merely a matter of his life but also the honor of the Folkungs.

   "I have made my decision," he said when he could sit still no longer facing the intolerable anticipation of what he would say. "Tomorrow at dawn at the place we here at the ting call Three Roads Meet, I shall go against Emund fully armed as the law prescribes. May God be with me and may you all pray for me. But there is no other way, for none in our clan would choose the way of dishonor, and it is also true that none would follow a dishonored man."

   Eskil and Arn had been sitting at the back of the tent together, and none of the older men had paid any attention to the two half-men. Now that their father had spoken and in everyone's view had condemned himself to death, Eskil took a deep breath, looking as though he might burst into tears, but he composed himself at once. An excruciating silence followed when no one contradicted Magnus, which was the same as agreeing and thereby deciding to end his life. Then Arn mustered the courage that came of despair to say what was needed.

   "Forgive us if we, the sons of Magnus, also join in this matter," he began uncertainly. "But this affects us as much as everyone else . . . in my opinion at least. Isn't it true that we were also insulted along with our father Magnus when that Emund called us bitch puppies or whatever it was he said?"

   "Yes, that's true," replied Birger Brosa. "You and Eskil were just as insulted as your father Magnus. But it is his obligation to defend the honor of all of you."

   "But according to the law don't we have the same right as our father to defend our honor?" asked Arn with the simple innocence of a child, so that some of the older men had a hard time keeping from laughing despite the gravity of the occasion.

   "It would not be to Magnus's credit if instead of standing up for his honor like a man, he sent one of his half-grown sons to the slaughter," muttered Birger Brosa morosely and stood up at once to go outside and piss, leaving the others wordless and empty of all feeling.

   But after briefly hesitating Arn slunk out to follow Birger Brosa. He had to do some searching before he found him, since the winter darkness had fallen rapidly while they sat inside. He walked resolutely over to his uncle, who was just pulling up his hose, and spoke to him without hesitation and with great conviction.

   "I have to tell you something true and important, my dear uncle. And you must believe me, for now in this grave hour there is really no time for untrue words. The truth is that of the three of us who were insulted, I am the one who can best handle a sword. It's also true that I think I could easily vanquish that Emund, or you yourself, or any of our retainers. That's why you must arrange it so that I am the one who goes to combat and not my poor father."

   Birger Brosa was so taken aback by these words that he stood there holding up his hose as if he were still about to piss. The little he knew about Arn was what everyone joked about who'd had anything to do with a monastery, which even Emund Ulvbane must have heard since he had called Arn a nun. Yet now this God-fearing and very serious young man stood here telling him something that could not possibly be true, but his face bore no trace of prevarication or madness. Birger Brosa didn't know what to think. His doubt must have been obvious, for Arn made an impatient motion with his hands before an idea seemed to occur to him.

   "My dear uncle, you are a much larger man than I, almost the same as that Emund," Arn said eagerly, clearly filled with his idea. "Take my hand and stand foot to foot with me," he continued, reaching out his hand to Birger Brosa, who took it out of sheer astonishment and then was shocked by the strength of his grip. Arn adjusted their feet so that they stood at an angle to each other as in an ordinary arm-wrestling match.