Finally the mighty force could ride out from Arnäs on its way to the tingof all the Goths, the tingthat was now called a landst ingbecause King Karl Sverkersson himself would participate for the first time in two years. This time he would have to choose between war and peace.

   In the vanguard the leader of the retainers rode alone with the banner of the Folkungs raised on a lance. Then followed Birger Brosa and Magnus Folkesson riding side by side, clad in silver and blue. They were wrapped in their wide blue mantles lined with marten fur, and they wore shiny pointed helmets on their heads. On the left side behind the saddle they had fastened their shields on which the rampant golden lion of the Folkungs stood defiantly posed for battle. After them rode Eskil and Arn, dressed and armed in the same manner as the headmen of the clan, and then followed a double rank of retainers who all carried lances with the colors of the Folkungs fluttering in the wind from the tips.

   An equal number of Folkungs would meet up with them from the southern and western parts of the country, and outside Skara they would join with the Erik clan to demonstrate clearly, when they rode into the tingas the strongest contingent, that war would make both the Folkung and the Erik clans enemies of King Karl, since they belonged together not merely through their bond of blood but also through their shared determination never to be subjugated. The tingof all Goths would be held outside the royal manor at Axevalla.

   If two young men other than Eskil and Arn had been forced to ride side by side for such a long way, they would have talked most about the struggle for power in which they themselves had unavoidably become involved. But Arn was still as passive and quiet as he had been ever since returning from Varnhem. The morning after the night he spent at Husaby, he had ridden in a wild dash to Varnhem to confess to Father Henri. When he eventually returned home he had morosely reforged the two helmets that he understood they were going to compel him and his brother to wear. What he changed was not visible so much on the outside, but the helmets were padded and warm on the inside so that they would not freeze their ears off in the cold.

   But two brothers could not ride together in silence, Eskil thought. He supposed it would be better if he broke the ice and talked about what was preoccupying his mind; afterward they could more easily tackle what was obviously bothering Arn.

   And so Eskil talked about the Norwegian business transactions, which had gone very well. They had succeeded in acquiring an offer of first refusal, so that the farms in question might be said to remain within the same clan, yet they had still brought home so much Norwegian silver that it was good for Arnäs. The best thing was that they had been able to sell without arousing discontent or dispute.

   What concerned Eskil right now was something else: dried fish that was called clipfish in Norway—split dried cod. Up in northern Norway ocean fish were caught in huge numbers. Near a place called Lofoten they were caught in such quantities that it was more than they could eat and sell in all of Norway. This meant there was a surplus of clipfish that was cheap to buy, easy to ship, and almost like magic could last without spoiling until it was softened up in water. Eskil's idea was to buy up all such surplus Norwegian fish and sell it in the Gothic lands, because there were many periods of fasting, especially the forty days before Easter, when it was considered a sin to eat meat. The fish that people caught in lakes and seas in the Gothic lands was not sufficient, particularly for those who lived in large communities and far from fishing waters, such as in the cities of Skara and Linköping.

   To Eskil's surprise, Arn knew at once what he was talking about, although his word was not clipfish but cabalao, which he said he had eaten often and not only during fasting. Such fish had been common in the cloister world for a long time. Arn thought that if they could convince the town dwellers of the benefits of dried fish, which he didn't think would be an easy matter because he had a low opinion of town dwellers, then the business would surely bring in a lot of silver for whoever was first to provide the fish. It was definitely true that such fish were excellent for storing, shipping, and eating, and that the need for good food could be great at fasting times and during winters that were much too long. If one did not live in a cloister, that is.

   Eskil was very glad to hear this, and he was convinced that he had discovered a new business that would soon yield much silver. He imagined hordes of slovenly town dwellers gobbling down his fish in great quantities, and he decided at once to send a trading party to his Norwegian kinsmen to place a large order. Dried fish was definitely something that belonged to the future.

   When the mighty Folkung column rode past Forshem church, the last of the riders could not be seen at the same time as the first. The bell of Forshem church tolled as if to proclaim misfortune or wishes for success, and the peasants stood lined up along the road to watch the spectacle. But they stood silent and scared, for it was impossible to know whether this force of warriors was riding off to plunge the country into adversity or to maintain the peace, since that could not be seen with the naked eye. For an ordinary peasant the Folkung retinue was a sight that instilled more fear than hope.

   After taking their rest at the halfway point, they would soon meet up with their kinsmen, and the host would swell to almost twice its present size. Eskil began cautiously to question Arn about what was making him so taciturn that he seemed almost dejected. He also asked about the reason for Arn's visit to Varnhem cloister, where he had submitted to ten days of penance with the hair shirt, which Eskil had noticed though Arn had tried to hide it, and only bread and water to eat. He hurried to add that he wasn't trying to breach the holy secrecy of the confession, but he was Arn's brother, and a brother should be able to talk to his brother even about things that were difficult, and not merely about fish and silver.

   Arn then told him without circumlocution about how he had disgraced himself by getting drunk and vomiting, and how that night up at Husaby he had done something with a woman that belonged to the sacrament of marriage. And for these stupidities he felt great remorse.

   But Eskil was not at all disturbed to hear this. On the contrary, he laughed out loud so that their father turned around in his saddle up ahead and gave them both a stern look, for the Folkungs were not riding to the tingin order to spread merriment.

   In a lower voice but still in a cheerful tone Eskil told Arn that now he understood everything, since it wasn't hard to guess what Arn meant. As for vomiting after consuming too much food and ale, that was nothing to worry about; it merely showed that he had enjoyed the entertainment, and it was good manners. But then there was the matter of Katarina, because she was the one, wasn't she? Well, even if nothing was decided yet, it could well be that he or Arn would end up married to either Katarina or Cecilia. But since Algot Pålsson of Husaby was in a bind because he lacked silver yet constantly had to pay out silver, and he had no understanding of such things, it could turn out that his lands would eventually end up within the confines of Arnäs, without having to resort to a wedding ale. All the waiting had no doubt caused impatience up there in Husaby, and what Katarina had seen fit to do was simply a way to hasten God's plans in that respect. But that was more worthy of a laugh than a worried frown.