To all around the table it seemed rather unclear what was to be learned, although it was a lovely story. But the priest of Husaby did not choose to clarify further. On the other hand, he did take Algot aside after the conclusion of the meal and prayers and had a conversation with him that no one else heard.

   It may have been this conversation that caused Algot to have a number of new ideas, for the next morning Algot asked Arn if he, who was good with horses, would take Cecilia with him on a ride in the beautiful spring weather. Arn did not have to be asked twice.

   And so it was that Cecilia and Arn rode side by side up the southern slopes of Kinnekulle on this first warm day of spring with gentle breezes. There were catkins on the pussy willows, there was plenty of water in the streams, and the ground was only flecked with snow. At first they didn't dare speak to each other although they were finally alone, for the retainers who followed them kept a polite distance so they could keep watch but stay out of earshot. All that Arn had said to her in his feverish nighttime thoughts or when he galloped along on Shimal and yelled the words to the wind now remained unsaid. Instead he soon found himself entangled in childish descriptions of Shimal's superior qualities and why horses from the Holy Land were so much better than other steeds.

   Cecilia seemed only moderately interested in the topic. But she smiled as if to encourage him to speak in any case. She had also had long nocturnal conversations with Arn in her dreams, although then she had always imagined that he would say the right words first and that she would then urge him on so that he said more of the same. Faced with talk of horses' qualities and the best way to breed horses, she had little to say.

   When Arn was near despair at his own shyness and the betrayal of all he had promised to say to her as soon as he had a chance, he prayed silently to the Holy Mother of God to give him just a little of the power that Gunvor had received. And at once the words came to him as if Our Lady were showing him the way with a gentle smile. He slowed Shimal, glanced nervously back at the retainers who were still out of earshot, and recited the words to Cecilia with his gaze fixed on her eyes and jubilation in his heart:

You have taken my heart,

you my sister, my bride,

you have taken my heart

with a single glance

with a single link of the chain around your neck.

How beautiful is your love, you my sister, my bride!

Yes, sweeter than wine, and the scent

of your salves surpasses all spices.

Your lips drip with sweetness

my bride

your tongue hides honey and milk

and the scent of your clothing

is like the scent of Lebanon.

   When Cecilia heard the words of the Lord, which were also Arn's words to her, she reined in her horse and gave him a long look, speaking to him with her eyes, just as they had been forced to say everything until now. She sat quite still in the saddle but was breathing hard.

   "You can never understand, Arn Magnusson, how much I have longed for these words from you," she said at last without lowering her gaze. "Ever since our eyes met as our voices merged in our first song. I want to be yours more than I want anything else on this earth."

   "I am also yours, Cecilia Pålsdotter, more than anything else on earth and for all time," replied Arn, filled with a solemnity that made the words sound like a prayer. "It's true that you took my heart with a single glance, as the word of God says. From you I never want to part."

   They rode a bit in silence until they came to an ancient and half-dead oak leaning over a small stream. There they got down from their horses and sat on the ground, leaning against the oak tree. The retainers from Husaby hesitantly stopped a short dis tance away and seemed to disagree whether they should come closer. The sound from the stream meant that they couldn't hear anything unless they came very close. They chose to sit where they were so that they could see but not hear.

   Cecilia and Arn took each other's hands and looked at each other without saying a thing for a long time, since they both felt the miracle within them.

   Finally Arn said that now he had to ride back to Arnäs, no matter how hard it was to part, and explain to his father Magnus how things now stood. Perhaps, he said, they could hold the betrothal ale this summer.

   At first his words made her so happy that she clutched at her heart almost in pain, but then a cloud seemed to come over her face.

   "Perhaps we may need as much support from the Holy Virgin Mary as Gunvor and Gunnar did in that beautiful story you told," she said gravely. "For our love has difficult tests and great obstacles ahead, as you probably know, don't you?"

   "No, I know no such things," said Arn. "There are no great obstacles, not a mountain that is too high, not a forest that is too deep, or a sea that is too wide to sail across. With God's help nothing shall stand in our way."

   "We will have to pray mightily for God's help," she replied, with her eyes lowered. "For my father is Karl Sverkersson's man, and your father is Knut Eriksson's man; everyone knows that. My father fears for his life because of this, and as long as Karl is alive my father will probably not dare bind himself to the Folkungs. That's how it is, my dear beloved Arn. Oh, what a joy to say those words! Nevertheless, our love has more than a great sea to cross as long as Karl Sverkersson is king and my father is the king's man."

   But Arn refused to be cast down by this. Not only was his confidence great, but he believed that the Virgin Mary was on their side. And no matter how much he knew about Aristotle and Holy Saint Bernard de Clairvaux, about Plato's high and base worlds, and about the Cistercian rules for living—matters that people in Western Götaland knew nothing about—he still knew very little about the rules that applied in the struggle for power. And that is what people in Western Götaland knew everything about.

   He relied entirely on his belief that the greatest of all things was love.