Knut and Arn rode at the head of the column of retainers to mass the next day, and now they showed the blue colors from their lance tips and mantles. Knut and Arn were also fully armed, with shields displaying the Folkung lion and the three crowns.

   So many people had been lured by the rumors to this mass that most could not get into the church but had to stand outside. At the church steps Knut and Arn dismounted while their retainers stayed to hold their horses.

   They entered side by side, and everyone respectfully made room for them. In the vestibule, Knut unbuckled his sword as was customary and set it aside. But when they proceeded up the aisle Knut was astonished to see that Arn had not removed his sword, and leaned over to whisper to him. But Arn gave him a secretive smile and shook his head. And what occurred when they reached the archbishop to receive communion served to benefit Knut Eriksson as much as it surprised him. For when they stopped, Arn drew his sword so that a startled gasp went through the whole congregation. In the next instant he handed over the sword to the archbishop himself, who accepted it reverently, kissed it, and sprinkled holy water on it before he handed it back. Arn then bowed, sheathed the sword in its scabbard, and fell to his knees, whispering to Knut to do the same at once.

   All the others had moved away, and they knelt there alone to take communion from the archbishop himself. The two did not stay for the rest of the mass but walked slowly side by side out of the church as soon as they had taken God's holy sacrament.

   When they came out onto the church steps there was already a great commotion, for the rumor of the sword that the archbishop had blessed had already reached the crowd, but no one there knew which sword it was.

   Now, however, Knut drew his sword and declared in a loud voice that the sword he held in his hand was blessed by God and with this sword he had slain the man who was an outlaw and who had murdered King Erik on this very spot. Then he removed the golden chain that he wore around his neck and held it up in the sunshine so that the cross flashed. He announced that this was the holy relic of God which he had taken from the outlaw Karl Sverkersson, and since he, Knut, had equally great respect for the Swedes and their ting as his father Erik had always had, he now called a ting in five days and asked them to ride to the judges and chieftains in Svealand to tell them.

   When he finished speaking a tumult broke out anew, instigated first by their own retainers, but soon enough involving everyone assembled. No one could now dispute that the archbishop himself had taken a position on the question of who should be elected king of Svealand. And so this rumor also spread with the speed of the wind.

   Later the same day, when they were back in their camp, where Knut had ordered water fetched from Saint Erik's spring so that he could personally bless all of those who came to him for this reason, Arn was released from his duties to the king.

   Knut took him aside and said that now they faced some boring days of waiting and conversations with one man arriving after the other. Knut suspected that Arn might not have much patience for this. What could be finer than to ride for all he was worth to see Cecilia? For Knut did not want to be so hard on his friend that he would stand in the way of such happiness any longer.

   Then Arn embraced his best friend and they soon parted. Arn rode for the sake of his dreams, and Knut stayed for the sake of power.

It had taken Arn a week to reach the slopes of Husaby, yet that was faster than any man in the North could have managed it, at least on a Nordic horse. He had also stopped at home in Arnäs to tell them everything that had happened and to scour himself and change his clothes.

   Now he was finally riding along with Husaby in sight, moving so slowly and with such short reins that Shimal pranced impatiently. The closer he came to Husaby the less he cared about all the strange things he had witnessed in the struggle for power.

   Algot Pålsson had been called to Arnäs to settle the dowry, and they had found it just as well that such discussions be handled between Eskil and Magnus on the one hand and Algot on the other; Arn did not need to attend.

   This proposal had suited him doubly. First, he was not in the least interested in whether he and Cecilia were a good bargain, or even a bad one, for either of their fathers. Second, he would rather meet Cecilia with all the fine things he had to say to her without being watched over by her father or his suspicious retainers.

   Now everything seemed too good to be true. Soon he would be with her. Soon he would hold her in his arms and tell her that it was likely that the betrothal ale would be celebrated at Husaby as early as Eskilsmas.

   Magnus and Eskil had arranged it, apparently without first asking Algot, so that the betrothal ale would be held at Husaby and the wedding ale at Arnäs. Cecilia would be given Forsvik as a morning gift. It would be up to Eskil and Magnus to squeeze the dowry out of Algot.

   But Arn had no worry about such matters on his conscience. A few forests or beaches, what were they compared to the greatest thing of all that God had granted humanity?

   And even if Algot did not care particularly about his daughter's feelings, just as Magnus would not take the wishes of his second son seriously in such matters, Algot was still going to secure the life and property of his own clan through this marriage. That much Arn did understand now.

   A short time ago, when he'd last seen Cecilia, everything had looked dark and hopeless, but it was now suffused with light. Like Gunvor and Gunnar, Arn and Cecilia would never neglect to thank the Virgin Mary for her power, manifested once again, and for her teaching that greatest of all was love.

   When Arn approached the Husaby royal estate, the thralls at work sowing turnips noticed him, and some of them ran up to the manor to announce his arrival. So a great commotion arose at once, and by the time Arn reached the house, all the thralls, retainers, and other people at the estate were lined up in a double row leading up to the door of the longhouse. When Arn rode in between them the thralls' warbling shouts of jubilation rang out, and the retainers banged on their weapons while the thralls did the same on whatever lay to hand.

   Cecilia came out on the porch of the longhouse and at first took a few steps forward, as if she had thought to run and meet Arn. But then she restrained herself, clasped her hands, and stood erect as she waited for him. Her grandmother Ulrika came out on the porch looking as if she wanted to say something stern, but when she discovered Arn approaching between the ranks of thralls and retainers she stopped herself and stood waiting in the same manner as her granddaughter.

   Inside Arn a battle was raging as he dismounted from Shimal and handed the reins to a thrall who came running. Arn's face was hot and he knew he was blushing. His heart was pounding so wildly that he thought he might lose his wits, and he had to exert all his self-restraint to go to meet Cecilia respectfully and courteously before all these eyes, just as she waited for him so calmly with her gaze lowered demurely.