Knut's first and most important destination on this wolf expedition around the country was Arnäs. By the time he and his men arrived they were expected, since he had sent outriders the day before. Magnus had already sent Svarte and Kol with all the thralls available up to the forests north of Arnäs to encircle wolves where there were good hunting grounds.

   They were rollicking, strong young men, and half were Norwegians who now with thundering hooves rode into the castle courtyard to be met immediately by house thralls running out to take their horses. With an agile leap Knut Eriksson was first out of the saddle, and he walked toward his host Magnus with his arms outspread. But the second person he embraced was Arn. He took the young man by the shoulders and shook him like a faithful friend, saying that this was in truth an especially dear meeting, for it was with Arn, and Arn above all, that he shared one of his strongest memories from his childhood. Arn at first didn't understand what that might be, but then Knut with great merriment reminded him of the time when the two of them sneaked into the very longhouse where they now stood to hear the Norse bard that Knut's father, Holy Saint Erik, had brought along. Then both of them had been pissed on by no less than a king and a saint.

   Now Arn remembered and said that this was indeed a vivid memory, but it was also an event that was considerably better to remember than it was at the time. They both laughed loudly at this, and it was as if two friends had found each other after many years. With his arm around Arn's shoulder, Knut went into the longhouse as the foremost guest. The two young men had begun talking loudly and both at once, which prompted great amusement since one sounded like a Norseman and the other like a Dane.

   It then felt as though God's blessing shone down upon this visit, for things had never been better at Arnäs. Nor had there ever been as much joy in the same place at the same time.

   Magnus was now the esteemed father to a son who had vanquished Emund Ulvbane himself in single combat and brought immeasurable honor to his father's house and clan. Eskil felt equally pleased that his once defamed brother had now become the most talked-about man, and that all shadows between father and sons had been thereby chased away. Arn felt as though he, the prodigal son, was only now returning. Erika Joarsdotter was met with deep respect and lovely words from every direction. The oven-roasted venison ribs with Welsh spices and the small wild pigs with honey that she now was able to set forth with the house's best ale and mead aroused such loud cries of admiration and amazement from all the guests that they said "skål" to Magnus time after time to praise his good fortune at having found such a wife. None of the guests gave the least sign that they thought Erika's speech was muddled.

   Knut Eriksson could not have received a warmer welcome at this estate, which for the sake of his plans he regarded as the most important in all of Western Götaland at the moment. He too felt great joy and relief at this visit.

   When no one could possibly eat any more, though the ale still flowed, the talk turned to what all knew would come under discussion sooner or later, namely the battle at Axevalla landsting.

   Arn was embarrassed and laconic on this topic of conversation, saying that he had merely defeated a lout with a useless sword and worse training, and thus there was little to recount. But Knut then asked to see the sword, at least, and whatever the son of a king and the guest of honor requested was done immediately. House thralls quickly returned with the sword, holding it outstretched.

   In astonishment Knut drew the blade from its scabbard, at first weighing it in his hand. Then he went out on the floor and gave it a few tentative swings through the air, and it was plain to see that he had held a sword in his hand before. But he found the sword too light and too fragile, just as he had heard from the rumors, and he asked Arn to explain.

   Arn objected that swords had little place at a banquet table with tankards of ale. But then he noticed Erika Joarsdotter's rosy, flushed face as she insisted that he show them all and explain, and so he obeyed at once.

   He went over to Knut standing in the middle of the floor and asked permission to draw his friend's sword from the scabbard. He then weighed it in his hand.

   "You have a heavy and beautifully decorated Norwegian sword, my dearest childhood friend," he said, swinging the sword thoughtfully through the air. "If you strike well then someone's helmet might not withstand it, but look here!"

   He raised the sword as if to slam the flat of the blade in the middle of the fireplace, which would have snapped the sword in two. Knut shouted in horror. Arn checked his swing as if surprised, but then he laughed and respectfully handed over Knut's sword with care, saying that he naturally would never have damaged the sword with which a kingdom might be conquered.

   But then he took his own sword from Knut, raised it, and slammed the flat of the blade with full force down onto the stone, and nothing happened except everyone heard the resounding ring of steel in the room.

   "There you see the difference, my friend Knut," he taunted as he bent his sword at the tip several times. "Our Nordic swords are made of hard iron and can break; they are also heavy to wield. The sword I have is pliable at the top third near the tip; it will not break, and it is easy to swing."

   What he said aroused wonder but not suspicion. Knut asked to exchange a few blows with Arn and drew his sword. Arn obediently raised his. As if to make a proper show of it, Arn parried Knut's blows a few times in the air, diminishing the power of the heavy sword with the light sword's flexibility. This enabled Arn to stand still and apparently not exert himself in the least while Knut had to use a great deal of strength for each blow without any effect. Finally Arn abruptly turned his wrist as he parried so that Knut's blow slipped down to the floor and he tumbled after. The Norwegian kinsmen in particular found this highly amusing.

   But Knut got up more amazed than angry and went over to Arn to embrace his friend. He said that all the saints must see to it that their swords were always on the same side, for he would never want Arn as his adversary.

   To this eloquence, these good words, and the ability to hold one's ale they now all drank together and with great emotion. They all felt that they were kinsmen in more than blood.

   A moment later Erika Joarsdotter got up to bid everyone goodnight. Eskil came over to her and offered his praise and thanks as he wished that she might sleep well. He had never done that before, and she felt as if long-frozen ice had finally melted as it does in late spring.

   When Arn came to bid her good night she giggled happily and said she doubted whether anyone had ever received so much praise for someone else's cooking. Arn brushed off her remark and said that it was the cooking of the house that the guests had enjoyed, and that both of them had worked hard together to accomplish this. He added with a wink that it ought to remain their secret, for otherwise the rams from the North might once again find him unmanly. With that they parted with great love between stepmother and son.