Eskil now found occasion to make changes in the feast arrangements. Those who still had room for ale and mead could come up to one of his tower rooms over the courtyard; it was cold but soon the house thralls would bring in braziers. Then those who wished to sleep without noise in their ears could do so, and those who wanted to make noise could do that without bothering the mistress.

   All the young men chose the tower room. Magnus found it wise to bid them good night.

   Up in the tower room it was cold at first before the braziers were brought in, but the cold outside in the courtyard may have contributed as well, for by the time the young men were ready to resume their carousing the mood had changed.

   In his cups Knut began to talk disingenuously about how it was actually ill advised that Arn had spared the life of Emund the king-killer. Although in another way it was also good that Arn had acted as he did, Knut hastened to assure them, for Emund was now the butt of eternal ridicule and was called Emund OneHand instead of Ulvbane. But a king-killer did not deserve to live, and as his father's son Knut would have to finish off what Arn had not completed.

   Arn blanched at these words and had nothing to say. Nor did he need to, since Eskil jumped into the conversation, but in a way that no one expected.

   First Eskil affirmed that he understood full well Knut's intent, and he personally had nothing against it. Yet there was a minor vexation with this plan that as good kinsmen they perhaps could resolve.

   He went and fetched a parchment map, rolling it out on one of the tables. Then he brought candles over and asked everyone to come and look. They gathered round him in curiosity.

   Eskil first put his finger on Arnäs and followed the river Tidan over to the ting site Askeberga to the east, and then he stopped at Forsvik on the bank of Lake Vättern, which was the main estate of Emund Ulvbane, or One-Hand, he corrected himself.

   "Look now and consider this," he said, circling Emund's lands with his finger. "Here Emund now sits at Forsvik, alone in an enemy land and with one hand cut off. That can't give him much joy or feeling of security. From the puppy Boleslav he can expect no help, and it will probably be a long time before Karl Sverkersson shows his snout here in Western Götaland. Look now! If we at Arnäs can buy Emund's lands, then we will own all the land between the lakes of Vänern and Vättern. We will have all roads and all trade in our hands. It would be a great step forward."

   Eskil looked as if he thought everyone had understood what he was talking about, but that was not true. Knut replied gloomily that the one matter really had nothing to do with the other.

   Then Eskil cloaked his objections in well-chosen phrases, suggesting that perhaps they could take care of this matter first, before they gave the king-killer what was coming to him. Otherwise his property would be passed down within the same enemy clan. But as things now stood, Eskil almost whispered, Emund would probably not oppose the idea of moving to more secure ground, and they might offer him quite a low price for Forsvik. That shouldn't be an excessively difficult negotiation.

   Now two of Knut's Norwegian retainers named Geir Erlendsen and Elling the Strong, which he was called not without reason, burst out in thunderous laughter because they had understood the entire plan. Soon everyone in the room was laughing so hard the tears came; all except Arn, who had no idea what was so amusing.

   They all merrily drank a skål to Eskil for his brilliant idea and promised as good kinsmen to see to it that this matter was attended to at once in the best way possible.

   "Seldom have you, kinsman Eskil, had such a simple proposal to put to anyone," snorted Geir Erlendsen into his ale. "I do believe that Emund One-Hand will find it hard to say no to your offer, even if it's a low price. Then you can confidently leave the rest to us and it may well be that you'll end up getting back a good portion of your silver besides!"

   "As sure as I am your leader and your future king, I swear that so shall we honor good kinsmen!" Knut Eriksson declared, and once again they all laughed with boisterous glee. Arn still understood nothing of the business that had just been concluded.

   Before the hour grew too late, and since it would be a hard

ride through the snow the next day, the Norwegian kinsman Eyvind Jonsson suggested that it was time to hear the bard tell of ancestors and kinsmen and such sagas that bolstered the spirit. The bard, whose name was Orm Rögnvaldsen, then stepped forward but waited until everyone had refilled their tankards of ale. Then he sat down and made himself comfortable before he began. The West Gothic kinsmen were surely expecting stories of expeditions to the west, since these sagas were the favorites of all men. But what the bard began to recount was an entirely new saga, and it went like this:

   It was at Ascension Day and many portents had been seen in the clouds. When Holy Saint Erik on this day took part in the high mass in the Holy Trinity Church on what was called the Lord's Hill in Östra Aros, a message was delivered to him by one of his men. The enemy was approaching the town, according to the message, and preparations must be made without delay to meet the foe with an armed troop. It is said that he replied: "Let me hear this great holy day mass to the end in peace. I trust sincerely in the Lord, and that we in some other place shall solemnly be allowed to hear what remains of His worship service." After these words he commended himself to God, crossed himself, and went out of the church to arm himself and his men. Despite their small number he proceeded bravely with them to meet the enemy.

   The enemy joined them in battle, directing most of their forces against the king. When the enemy succeeded in felling the Lord's anointed king to the ground, they gave him wound upon wound. Soon he lay there half dead, but then they did even crueler things and subjected him to scorn and derision. With mocking words Emund Ulvbane, who was Karl Sverkersson's hired man, stepped forward and hacked off his venerable head, without respect and from the front. Then Holy Saint Erik went victorious from war to peace, and blessedly exchanged his earthly realm for the kingdom of Heaven. But at the place where his head fell a clear spring burst forth, and it runs to this day and is called Saint Erik's spring. Its waters have brought about many miracles. So Holy Saint Erik lives today and for all time among us.

   When the bard Orm Rögnvaldsen finished his saga there was utter silence, with not even the sound of tankards being pounded on the table to call for more of the same. Instead Knut asked Arn to say a prayer for his father's eternal salvation, and to lend it more power by saying it in church language. Arn did so, but he was still shaken by sorrow and a feeling that resembled anger at what he had heard.