Emund understood which debt he was referring to and jumped up as if intending to flee, but was caught with happy shouts by the Norsemen. With much scorn they dragged him out to the courtyard kicking and flailing, and there they spread him out on the ground by pounding spikes into the ground frost and tying his arms and legs so that he lay on his back with a piece of wood as a pillow.

   Geir Erlendsen thought that they should have bound him in the other direction so that Knut could witness the good Norwegian custom of carving the blood-eagle into wretches who deserved to die in torment. But it would be sufficient, after the king-killer's ribs were broken and folded out like wings on the ground, if Knut could then with his bare hands rip Emund's heart from his body.

   But Knut Eriksson refused to hear of it, since he did not want to soil his hands with an outlaw's blood. Rather, as the Holy Scriptures prescribed, the king-murderer should die in the same manner as he had murdered, by decapitation from the front.

   Emund Ulvbane behaved in a manly way and did not beg for his life. With a single blow Knut Eriksson severed his head from his body and had it raised on a lance in the middle of the courtyard to remind the thralls who were left that there was a new lord at Forsvik. Emund's body was flung into the sleigh among those of the retainers, and the sleigh was sent off to be burned out on the ice of the lake.

   Knut Eriksson and most of his men stayed only another day at Forsvik to go through whatever might seem useful in the storehouses and lake houses. What they found was good, for in one of the lake houses there was enough sawn oak to build the ship they had planned. Eyvind Jonsson, Jon Mickelsen, and Egil Olafsen of Ulateig had to remain at Forsvik to finish building the ship before the ice on Lake Vättern thawed. It would be a mighty task that only Norwegian shipbuilders could manage.

   With the rest of his Norwegian retainers and some of those from Arnäs, Knut Eriksson headed back to Western Götaland. He had taken his first long stride on the path that would lead him to the three royal crowns.

Listen, there is my friend!

Yes, there he comes,

bounding along on the hills.

Like a gazelle is my friend

or like a young stag.

See, now he stands there behind my wall,

he looks in through the window,

he peers through the grating.

My friend begins to speak,

he says to me:

Stand up, my beloved, you my beauty, and come outside.

For see, winter is gone, the rainy time is over and has gone its way.

Again and again Arn murmured the words of the Lord to express what filled him more than anything else. He was riding toward Husaby, making great clods of earth and frozen snow and ice spurt up around Shimal's hooves. The stallion was hot and sweaty, but Arn bore his own heat within and thought that the springtime wind of speed could cool him. He knew full well that this might not be the most suitable state of mind for appear ing in the house of the Lord to sing the Lord's praises and His alone. And he was very sure that Father Henri would have had many stern views on the matter.

   But he rode like a lunatic with the speed of a fool because he could do nothing else. So filled was he with Cecilia that all else had to stand aside except the Lord Himself. And it felt as though the Devil were tempting him with evil thoughts, asking if he had to choose between the Lord's love or Cecilia's, which would he choose? Evil thoughts seemed to force themselves on him no matter how much he tried to defend himself, as if the Devil had truly discovered a soul with a great weakness.

   He had to stop, dismount from Shimal, and pray for forgiveness for the wicked thoughts that had seeped inside him. He prayed until he was freezing cold and then even more. After that he continued on at a more modest pace, for he had come so close to Husaby that people there would soon be able to see him.

   He arrived at the church in good time and led Shimal to the priest's stable. He wiped the horse down, covering him with homespun so that he wouldn't cool off too fast after the sweaty ride. Shimal looked at him with his big, grateful eyes—as if the stallion had been wronged and had seen through him.

   It was Annunciation Day, the time when the storks came to Western Götaland and when the plow was to be put to work in the fields at Vitae Schola in Denmark. This mass was suited to Arn's voice just as well as the mass at Christmas. The Virgin Mary was the patroness of the monastery at Varnhem, and all singers who came from Varnhem thus knew every mass by heart that belonged to the Holy Virgin.

   But during the singing in the church he still felt himself led astray into sin even though he sang with Cecilia as ecstatically as at Christmas. In lines of text when the words spoke of love for Our Lady he looked Cecilia in the eyes and meant every word for her, and in her voice when she replied he felt that she was singing in the same way and meant the same as he did.

   Without realizing that he was thereby trampling on Algot Pålsson's self-respect, he invited himself to stay a few days at the Husaby royal manor so that he and Cecilia could practice new songs before the next mass. Arn had sensed, without knowing the reason for it, that Algot Pålsson was not a man to refuse any request that came from a son of Arnäs. So little needed to be said about the matter, before everything was arranged as Arn had requested.

   But after that a conflict broke out between the two young people on the one hand, and everyone who wanted to or was required to watch over them on the other. They tried to use all their cunning to find a chance to speak together in private. Algot and the older women in the house saw this and in turn used all their cunning to watch them at every moment. As long as they sat demurely in the hall with other people close by and sang the Lord's praises in one song more beautiful than the last, no one had any objections. Both Arn and Cecilia had a great tolerance for sitting together and singing, but it was no greater than other people's tenacity in watching them. And a careful vigil was kept that they did not sit too close. At supper the two young people sat in the high seat, but with Algot as a mighty breakwater between them, and they couldn't come near each other except when Cecilia politely poured more ale for Arn, which caused him some torment because he had vowed never again in his life to drink as much ale as he had at the first feast in Husaby.

   Just before Annunciation Day, Priest Sune in Husaby had attended a collegium with Bishop Bengt in Skara. Despite the terrible condition of the roads at this time of year, many more clergymen from the diocese had gathered than expected, a sign of the great unrest that had spread on the winds of gossip in all of Western Götaland after the landstingat Axevalla. Everyone knew that King Karl Sverkersson would not be content after having lost all power in Western Götaland, just as everyone knew that Knut Eriksson was the foremost contender to oppose the king and take his crown from him. If the worst happened, King Karl would come with an army to Western Götaland, and it was not easy to say who would win that battle. The only certainty was that such a war would severely ravage the land.