Eskil was both a joy and a secret sorrow to Magnus. Eskil was like himself, and also much like his mother Sigrid, whose intelligence he seemed to have inherited. Eskil wanted most of all to take part in trading expeditions, to meet foreign merchants and learn from their wares and prices how best to calculate the value of two casks of bacon in terms of wheat or hides and how to trade raw iron for silver. In this Eskil was indeed his father's son.
Yet as an almost full-grown man he was still unable to throw a lance or handle a sword the way a man of a clan with a coat of arms should be able to do. But it was true that Magnus himself resembled his eldest son in this.
Only once had Magnus as the lord of Arnäs been forced to set out for war. That was when Henriksen the Dane proclaimed himself king over the Swedes after he had ignominiously hacked off the head of Erik Jedvardsson up in Östra Aros. There were two versions of the event: some held that it occurred just after the high mass in the Trinity Church, and that Erik Jedvardsson died courageously facing great odds, and a spring emerged from the spot where his head struck the ground.
According to Erik Jedvardsson's enemies, and to King Karl Sverkersson, Erik Jedvardsson died unnecessarily because he had been too full of ale to defend himself like a man.
And yet it made little difference how King Erik had been murdered; there would have to be war in any case. The fact that the Swedes felt indignant that a Dane had come and murdered their king was easy to understand. At once they sent off a message all the way to Helsingland and the darkest forests of Svealand, and soon had gathered a great army heading for Östra Aros. But the question was how people would react in Western Götaland and in Eastern Götaland. Should they let the Swedes settle accounts with the Danish slayer of their king on their own, or should they take part in the war?
For King Karl Sverkersson and his men in Linköping, this was not a difficult decision. He had to choose between going off to war against the Danish king-slayer with as many forces as he could muster, and thus winning the crown of the Swedes for himself, or allowing them to win on their own and then elect a new king, who could be anyone at all among the Swedish chieftains or lawspeakers. For King Karl Sverkersson the choice was simple.
When the Folkungs gathered for the clan tingin Bjälbo in Eastern Götaland, they soon found that there wasn't much choice. Magnus's own brother Birger, who was now called Brosa, the Smiling One, had quickly convinced the clan ting. One war was unavoidable for all in Eastern Götaland, Birger Brosa had declared, and that was the war against the Danish murderer of the king. For the Eastern Goths the only right thing was to support King Karl in this matter. But after the victory he would probably become king of Svealand as well. Because victorious they would be; the army raised in Sweden was itself large enough to win the victory on its own. The days of the Dane, Magnus Henriksen, on earth were numbered. Now they had to look beyond his death.
For the Folkungs it was crucial that they not be split apart and end up on different sides in a war. If King Karl now won the royal crown in Svealand, he would soon demand recognition in Western Götaland as well—then all the Folkungs would be set against one another, the east against the west.
Better then to combine all the problems into a single war, so that both Western Goths and Eastern Goths would rally around King Karl in his war. If they did not do so, the same thing would happen later anyway, but at the cost of much spilled blood and in the worst case with brother set against brother.
No one at the clan meeting could contradict Birger Brosa on this. And from then on Birger Brosa usually got what he wanted.
Magnus took part in the war with his retainers in the way he found best. He and his men did not enter into the dispute until it was already won, which then mostly involved executing the last of the Danes and taking captive those who could pay ransom. He was able to return to Arnäs as a victor who had not lost a single man in the conflict but became 50 marks richer in silver, and for this he was popular with the women, though the men did not think highly of him.
He had left Eskil at Arnäs when he went off to war, despite the boy's nagging and whining. Eskil was not yet a man; besides, as the eldest son and heir, he could not be replaced like some fallen retainer.
Magnus had tried to forget his second son whom God had taken alive from him. But since he knew that Arn was the son that Sigrid had loved best, he could not forget as easily as he should for the peace of his soul. Nor could he forget Sigrid during the five years of mourning he had assigned himself. In secret he told himself that she was still the one person above all others whom he valued most highly, more than any man, even a man such as his brother Birger Brosa.
But this was something he had to keep to himself. If he said such a thing out loud he would be disdained, or regarded as crazy. Not even to Eskil could he admit these thoughts about a woman who was after all Eskil's mother.
While the ice on the lakes still held, there now came a summons to another clan tingin Bjälbo. Magnus set off with a small retinue and Eskil. For the first time his son would be allowed to take part in the men's council and therefore he admonished him not to interfere, drink too much, or say anything, but to listen and learn.
Birger Brosa received his brother and nephew with great warmth and from the start offered them more hospitality than other kinsmen. Magnus could not tell whether this had to do with brotherly love or with Birger Brosa's plans concerning the matters they would soon be disputing. But he enjoyed being treated as a worthy man, even though the gathering now included several men who were great warriors with scars from many battles. In those days such things were valued much more highly than silver. The fattest bishop could own great quantities of silver, but that did not make him a great man.
The first days were devoted only to the pleasures of hospitality, and they all spoke freely about what there might be to discuss with regard to kinsmen who were unable to attend; for example, the Norwegian kinsmen, who at the moment were at war, as usual. In this way they could also wait for those who arrived somewhat later because a winter road was impassable or the ice too dark and unreliable. Hence no one would come too late for discussions that had already been decided while they were far away swearing and groaning, struggling with a broken or overturned sleigh.
But once they all had gathered, deliberations began in the largest hall in the tower. What was surprising to many, including Magnus and Eskil, was that they gathered for the council immediately after the midday prayers were held in the tower's lower chapel, and this without eating. The roasts had just begun to be turned and would not be ready for many hours.
Birger Brosa, who had introduced this new arrangement, believed that their forefathers' custom of eating, drinking, and holding council simultaneously undoubtedly had its merits. Ale loosened the bonds of the tongue and no one felt timid when discussing things that affected them all. But sometimes the ale could loosen the tongue so much that nothing sensible was decided, or no one remembered the next day what had been decided. And sometimes kinsmen parted on bad terms.