He was in a very good mood because he liked singing and because the Christmas hymns were those that he believed everyone knew by heart, and besides, Christmas was a happy holy day which made the notes easy to sing, even for those who had not had much practice.

   But among the singers in the choir he was not the only one who had received his training from the Cistercians. There was also Cecilia Pålsdotter, who in recent years had taken turns with her sister Katarina in being trained at Gudhem convent near Hornborga Lake.

   He heard her voice as soon as he stepped inside the cold church. Her voice hovered clear and pure above all the others, and Arn stopped in amazement to listen. He had never heard anything so beautiful. That was how a boy's soprano could soar forth from a choir, just as he may have sounded as a boy at Vitae Schola. But he probably thought this was even better. There was more fullness and more life in this female soprano.

   He had stopped far away from the singers who were rehearsing, and he couldn't see whose heavenly voice it was. Nor did he much care, since he had his eyes fixed on the stone floor so as not to be disturbed by anything as his ears tried to catch every last nuance of the music.

   After the choir at the front of the church had sung four of the sixteen verses that Arn knew the hymn contained, the priest leading the singers paused to make a correction and scold someone singing in the second voice. Then Arn went over to greet the priest and bowed a bit timidly to the group of singers.

   It was now that he saw her for the first time. It was as though he had seen Birgite from the Limfjord again, but now as a grown woman. The Birgite for whose sake he'd had to do so much penance. She had also caused him to argue with Father Henri about the true nature of love. He saw the same thick red hair in a plait down her back, the same merry brown eyes, and the same pale and lovely face. He must have been gaping at the young woman, because she gave him a teasing smile, apparently used to having young men stare at her. But she didn't know who he was, for the priest hadn't said anything about the fact that he had asked for an extra singer; he had especially refrained from mentioning who the singer might be, since he couldn't be sure that a son of Arnäs would take the trouble to come there just to practice a few carols.

   The priest at Husaby was glad, of course, for if Arn was only half as good a singer as the somewhat boorish priest at Forshem boasted, this was going to be an unusually beautiful early Christmas mass. He already had an especially lovely soprano for the first voice. And as he was a priest who was more merry than strict and who welcomed a good jest and surprises if the occasion presented itself, he at once arranged a little practical joke.

   He said only that another singer would be joining them from the church at Forshem, which Arn found to be a rather odd introduction, and now they would try the same piece they had just sung but with only two singers in two-part harmony. Then he motioned for Cecilia, who stepped forward with obvious confidence, once again showing her amusement at the staring peasant boy from Forshem.

   Arn realized now that she was the one with the beautiful heavenly voice, and this insight made his gaping expression even more sheeplike.

   Cecilia now did as the priest had asked, starting to sing the first voice by herself. She sang even louder, mischievously trying to put the singer from Forshem in his place.

   But suddenly she then heard . . . no, it was more than hearing, she felt it through her whole body, as the new singer placed his second voice so close to hers, following her as if in a dance. Their voices intertwined, moving into each other, out, and then back, with the same ease as if they had always sung together. And she couldn't help raising her eyes to his. He was already gazing at her, and when their eyes met they both felt as though the Lord's voice had spoken through the other's voice. Then she began to vary her song, making it much more difficult. And he followed her, still in second voice, with the same ease as before; they no longer saw the other singers or the priest standing nearby. Everyone had been struck dumb by the beauty that now streamed out like light beneath the vault of the church, but the two young people saw only each other and they did not stop until all sixteen verses were sung.

   It was a lengthy practice session that day but a great deal was accomplished. The Husaby priest was good to them all and in a brighter mood than anyone had ever seen him before. He showed kindness to those he wanted to correct, and soon everyone began to gain in confidence, understanding how all the carols should be sung. They now had the opportunity to hear two singers alone, each taking a separate part, but they also sang as a choir with two lead singers, and as a choir with one soprano voice, one second voice, and even a lone third voice, for Arn would insert a third voice wherever he liked in these simple, happy carols.

   So all were in a very good mood when they stopped for supper. Now that Arn and Cecilia had a chance to talk to each other, they fell into lively conversation about where they each had learned to sing. Soon they were both talking at once about Gudhem convent and Vitae Schola and Varnhem. With eyes only for each other they came out onto the church steps where Cecilia's two retainers waited with her cloak and horse. Without staying for the evening meal, they were to accompany her home to Husaby manor for the night, as her father Algot had strictly prescribed.

   One of the retainers took a couple of angry steps toward the singer boy, who was walking much too close to the maiden whose virtue he'd been sent to protect. But the second retainer, who had been at Axevalla landsting, took the man by the arm in warning, then pushed past and courteously greeted Herr Arn of Arnäs.

   That was when Cecilia Algotsdotter came to an abrupt halt in all her happy chatter about singing at the convent, for she thought she must have heard wrong. This fair youth with the kind eyes could simply not be the man that everyone was talking about over every tankard of ale throughout Western Götaland.

   "What is your name, cloister singer?" she asked with doubt in her voice.

   "I am Arn Magnusson of Arnäs," Arn replied quickly and realized in the same instant that for the first time in his life he had said his name as it was. "And who might you be?" he added, with his gaze lingering on hers.

   "I am Cecilia Algotsdotter of Husaby," she replied shyly, thereby making the same impression upon Arn as he had done upon her when he said his name. Both now understood that it truly was the Lord who had brought them together, just as they both had felt so strongly during the hot, intertwining encounter of their singing voices inside the church.

The early Christmas mass at Husaby church in the year of Grace