When Arn caught sight of Sune he stopped, smiled, and drew his dagger from his belt. There was complete silence as he went over to Sune and cut off the ropes binding his hands and feet. He embraced him, kissing him on both cheeks.

Almost all the young warriors had now gathered, with only a few more running up as they tried to get dressed. Their ire had dissolved and they looked at one another in wonder.

‘Think on the words of the Lord, all you Forsvikers!’ said Arn as he raised his right arm in a command for attention. ‘What you see is not always what you see, and don’t always judge someone by his clothes. This is your true brother Sune Folkesson, who in our service and at the risk of his life has been our informer with Sverker at Näs. It was Sune’s words that saved the life of Erik jarl and his brothers. That was why they came to us and escaped death at the hands of the deceitful king. Everyone who thought evil of Sune should first beg forgiveness from God and then from Sune himself!’

The first to come forward to embrace Sune were Bengt Elinsson and Sigfrid Erlingsson. Then all the others followed in turn.

Arn ordered the bathhouse to be heated up and for new Folkung clothing to be brought there. The red rags that Sune was wearing would be burned. Sune tried to object that he had urgent news and had no time for a bath, but Arn just shook his head with a smile and said that nothing was ever so urgent that a man should not stop to think before rushing off. He understood that it was no small matter that had convinced Sune to leave his service at Näs, since Sune had dared to remain in his perilous mission even after he had rescued Erik jarl and his brothers.

Sune hastened into the bathhouse and was still pulling on his Folkung clothes as he rattled off greetings to everyone on his way to Arn and Cecilia’s house. Inside awaited fresh Saracen morning bread and strong lamb soup. Sir Arn and Fru Cecilia embraced him with tears in their eyes and welcomed him home.

As they ate, Sune quickly told them all the most important news. King Sverker had finally found out that Erik jarl and his brothers were hiding at Älgarås, and he was sending a hundred fully armed men to kill them. If it was true that the Erik brothers were at Älgarås, there wasn’t much time.

Arn nodded grimly. It was true that on Bengt Elinsson’s advice they had moved the men to Älgarås because there were no Sverkers in the vicinity, and because the king would probably search toward Eriksberg in the south rather than in a Folkung village in the north. Erik jarl had also been wise enough when he arrived to tell Arn in private about the warning he had received from Sune. He hadn’t said a word to anyone else about it, but Arn had confirmed that it really was true that Sune had always been a Forsviker, although he dressed in the red mantle at Näs. Erik jarl had also recounted the strange way that Sune had behaved so as not to draw attention to himself. But that was a matter for another conversation, because now in truth they did not have much time.

Three fully armed squadrons, two of light cavalry and one of heavy armoured riders, left Forsvik that morning. At the mustering before their departure, Arn had given a brief speech and said that this was no longer practice. What was now about to happen was what they had been training for. That was why all their practice swords had been exchanged for sharp ones, the arrows were not blunt, and the lances were not fitted with round points but with triple steel points.

Perhaps they would have been more successful if they had ridden from Forsvik with only light cavalry and not with a squadron of heavy armour that delayed the others. In hindsight they could have drawn that conclusion, but hindsight is always the wisest jarl of all fools.

What Sune had to tell about the Danish knights’ horses and weapons had convinced Arn that at least one heavy squadron was necessary, because they were meeting a force that was twice as large as their own.

Älgarås was ablaze when they arrived; they had seen the smoke and flames from far off. Yet Arn had sternly made them all follow his pace at a calm trot so as not to arrive exhausted to a confrontation with the Danes and Sverkers.

After a slow ride which tried all their patience, they finally came within striking distance, and they could see the redgarbed warriors on their way in through a big breach in the stockade wall of sharpened poles. Now there was no time to lose. Arn positioned the heavy cavalry foremost in order to attack with speed and power, ordering Bengt Elinsson to wait outside the walls with his squadron and clear the entire area of all the red troops.

King Sverker’s men were so excited about entering the stronghold that they discovered too late the noise of the blue-clad riders coming at them in formation with lances lowered. The Folkungs crushed all before them on their way into Älgarås.

In a corner of the estate a small group was crowded together with Erik jarl in front. The heavy riders who had led the break-in moved off to the side, and behind them the squadron led by Sigfrid Erlingsson attacked. Most of the fleeing Sverkers and Danes were caught outside the walls by Bengt Elinsson and his squadron of light cavalry. No prisoners were taken. A few of the enemy escaped, among them Ebbe Sunesson.

Erik jarl was the only survivor among his brothers, and he was wounded in more than one place. Everywhere in the estate lay dead Folkungs, young and old alike. Even house thralls and livestock lay slaughtered.

Erik jarl showed his fortitude and honour in the hour of sorrow. He staggered with exhaustion and his face, hands, and one thigh were bleeding, but still gasping he had a brief whispered conversation with Arn. Then he wiped off his bloody sword, called over the three squadron leaders Sune, Sigfrid, and Bengt and their closest men – Sigurd, who was once called Sigge, Oddvar who was once called Orm, and Emund Jonsson, Ulvhilde’s son. He ordered them to kneel and in his capacity as the new king of the Swedes and Goths, he dubbed them knights.

They were the first to be knighted in the new kingdom that was now on its way.

TWELVE

It was a whole week before the riders who had left Forsvik returned. They had found much that needed cleaning up after the battle at Älgarås where more than ninety Danes and Sverkers were laid in a common grave, and all those from the estate who had been slain were taken to the church for a Christian burial.

Two Forsvikers had fallen in the conflict, while four were badly wounded, two of them so gravely that Arn didn’t dare take the responsibility of transporting them to Forsvik to tend to their wounds. Ibrahim and Yussuf were no longer at the estate, at a time when their skills were sorely needed. With a fervent appeal, and in his capacity as a Templar knight, Arn wrote a brief letter on the only piece of parchment that he could find at Älgarås to the brothers of the Order of St. John in Eskilstuna. He sent the two wounded men by cart to Örebro, and from there it was an easy journey across Lake Hjälmaren to the brothers’ hospital.

The bodies of two Forsvikers who had fallen were wrapped in Folkung mantles and sent to their kinsmen.

Since many Forsvikers left to accompany wounded and dead kinsmen, it looked as if the force had been cut in half when they returned to the estate. And the tidings were ominous, judging by the sombre expressions of both Erik jarl and Arn as they entered the courtyard ahead of the other Forsvikers. The alarm had already been sounded when the horsemen were spotted far in the distance. Erik jarl and Arn brought the saddest news of all to the dowager queen Cecilia Blanca, who was the first to step forward when everyone anxiously appeared to greet the returning men. Three of her sons had been killed, all on the same day. They were wrapped in their mantles on a cart at the back of the procession.