"Because if they laid a hand on you, none of them would live to see the sun go down for more than a few days. Not one of them. Then they would bring down the whole Folkung clan, your clan, on their necks. And no peasants in all of this unfortunate land would ever dream of doing something that stupid. That's the way it is out there, and you're going to have to get used to it."

   "But I don't want to get used to such an unreasonable and evil order of things, father. Nor do I want to live in a world like that."

   "You must," said Father Henri curtly. "Because so it has been decided. You must soon go out into the other world again—that is my command."

   "I will obey your command, but—"

   "No buts!" interrupted Father Henri. "You no longer have to shave your head. You shall break your fast starting now; just remember to eat cautiously at first. Immediately after supper you shall go to Brother Guilbert, and he will explain the other part of the truth about you, the part you do not know."

   Father Henri arose heavily from the small wooden bed. He suddenly felt old and stiff and thought for the first time that his life was turning to autumn, that time was running out of the hourglass, and that he might never find out what sort of task God had prepared for his beloved son.

   "Pardon me, father, but one last question before you go?" ventured Arn with an expression of bewilderment on his face.

   "Yes indeed, my son, ask as many last questions as you like, because the questions will never cease."

   "What was the nature of the sin that you and Brother Guilbert committed? I still can't conceive of it."

   "Very simple, my son. If you knew who you were, you wouldn't have had to kill. If we had told you who you were, you would have known. We kept silent about the truth because we believed we were protecting you with lies. And God enlightened us in a most brutal fashion, showing us that nothing good can come of something evil. It is that simple. But nothing evil can come of something good, either, and you had no evil intent. So, see you at vespers!"

   Father Henri left Arn alone for the hours he now required for his prayers of thanksgiving, something Father Henri did not need to mention. Because as soon as Father Henri had closed the door behind him, Arn dropped to his knees and thanked God, the Holy Virgin, and Saint Bernard in turn for saving his soul through Their ineffable grace. During his prayers he felt as though God were answering him, since life returned to his body like a warm stream of hope and, finally, in the form of something as trivial as ordinary hunger.

Gunvor felt as if intoxicated by her own goodness, and it made her happy. For certainly it was a great sacrifice that she and Gunnar were now about to make. The two sorrels were almost half of all that she and her betrothed owned, and giving away so much was no easy task. But it was the right thing to do, and she was proud and glad that neither she nor Gunnar had felt any doubts as they approached the cloister at Varnhem. As Gunvor saw it, the Holy Virgin had answered her sincere prayers, not by taking her into the liberating embrace of death but by sending a young monk who with two strokes of his sword transformed both her own life and Gunnar's forever. Now they would live together until the day that death parted them. On no day of that journey would they ever neglect to offer prayers of thanksgiving for the decision of Our Lady to save their lives and give them both what they held dearest in all the world.

   Even though the monk boy had only been an instrument, as insignificant as a mucking shovel in comparison with the Blessed Virgin, he was still the only person to whom Gunvor and Gunnar could offer their thanks. And he belonged to the cloister which was the only place in this world where the grateful could present their offerings. Her father had always taken care to impress on her the importance of offerings, even though he also gave offerings to others besides God's saints.

   Following close behind her betrothed Gunnar, with mother Birgite and Gunnar's sister Kristina behind her, she rode into the receptorium at Varnhem, where outsiders were always greeted. She felt a great reverence inside the walls, within the lovely vaulted stone where the hooves of the horses echoed like music, and before all the blazing colors of the flowers she saw in the little inner garden with the babbling fountain. She was filled with a sense of solemnity because as soon as the strangers entered the cloister, the place breathed with God's presence.

   They dismounted and tied their horses. The brother who served as the receptarius came to greet them kindly, inquiring as to why they had come. When Gunnar explained, the monk asked them to take a seat on the stone benches by the fountain and sent for ale and bread, which he blessed and broke for them as he bade them welcome. Then he went to fetch the prior.

   They had to wait a good while but did not speak much since all four of them were entranced by the quietness of the place. Finally a small oak door with iron fittings opened at the far end of the receptorium, and the venerable prior came to meet them. His hair was silver-gray, curling in a wreath around his bald head, but his friendly brown eyes were full of life, which made him look younger than he probably was. He blessed them all, sat down calmly, and for the sake of courtesy shared a piece of bread with them which he also blessed. Then he got straight to the point and wanted to hear why people who were not rich—they didn't know how he could see that at once even though they had all dressed in their finest clothes—wanted to give such a costly gift to the toilers in God's garden. His language was sometimes difficult to understand because he used many priestly words in church language.

   Gunnar, who was the one who should have spoken for them, was too embarrassed. So Gunvor immediately took over the responsibility of explaining, and Gunnar gave no sign of objecting. She told Father Henri how she had so devoutly placed her last remaining hope in the hands of Our Lady, how she was saved when a little monk boy was sent to her, and how because of that she and the one she loved most in life would be able to live together for all their days on earth.

   At first the prior listened very attentively, interjecting a question or two about things that Gunvor did not realize were important. Soon the face of the venerable old man shone as if with a joy that radiated from within. Then he summoned a gigantic monk who emerged covered in soot and sweat. He examined the horses with grunts, sometimes approving and sometimes cross, and then he explained something to the prior in a completely incomprehensible language.

   "The Lord be praised for your wondrous gift," said Father Henri, and now they all listened tensely because the huge monk went over to the mare and took her by the halter, speaking kindly to her, while he didn't seem at all interested in the stately stallion.