But Ulvhilde was not what they had been expecting. For men seldom imagine the enemy’s women to be beauties.

Sigurd Folkesson may have thought about greeting them with harsh words, but could do little more than stammer and hem and haw as he bade them welcome, while his two sons mostly gaped, unable to take their eyes off Ulvhilde.

When the confused welcome speech seemed to be over, Cecilia Blanca sought to rescue Ulvhilde from her embarrassment by saying the words required in response. But Ulvhilde spoke first.

“I greet you Folkungs, Sigurd Folkesson, Folke and Jon, with joy as I return to my childhood home,” Ulvhilde began without the least hint of shyness. Her voice was calm and clear. “What was once between us Sverkers and Folkungs has now been buried, because that was war and now we have peace. So you shall know that it is a pleasure for me to welcome you to Ulfshem and that I feel happy to have you as my friends and guests.”

Her words made such a strong impression that all the Folkungs were speechless. Then Ulvhilde held out her arm to Sigurd Folkesson so that he could lead her into the main building on her property. The eldest son, Folke, eventually realized that he should offer the queen his arm.

As they entered Ulfshem through the large double gate made of oak, Cecilia Blanca smiled with relief; at the same time she was rather amused. The worthy words with which Ulvhilde had surprised her Folkung guests had been borrowed shamelessly from the king. It was almost word for word what King Knut had said to greet Ulvhilde as a guest at Näs not so long ago.

Ulvhilde was a quick learner, as were all who were forced to live in cloisters, thought the queen. But it didn’t help much to be swift to learn; one also needed good sense in order to use what one learned. And that was what Ulvhilde had now shown in a manner as powerful as it was surprising.

The swallow flew, rising steadily on small, swift wings toward the sky.

Chapter 9

If it was really God’s will for the Christians to lose the Holy Land, then He had assigned them such a long and winding road to the great defeat at Saladin’s hands that in each small decisive event it became almost impossible to discern His will.

If that was the case, then the first big step toward the catastrophe was the Christians’ defeat by Saladin at Marj Ayyoun in the year of grace 1179.

As Count Raymond III of Tripoli told Arn when their friendship began, and when they together tried to drown their sorrow at the fortress of Beaufort belonging to the Hospitallers, the defeat at Marj Ayyoun could of course be viewed as merely one in an endless series of battles over almost a hundred years. No side could count on winning every time; for that they were altogether too susceptible to the whims of fate, to weather and wind, reinforcements that did or did not arrive in time, wise and foolish decisions on both sides, and for those who seriously claimed that this was the decisive factor, to God’s ever-inscrutable will. No matter how they tried to explain their fortunes in war, and how much they prayed to the same God, each side would inevitably lose some battles and win others.

But among the knights from King Baldwin IV’s army who were captured at Marj Ayyoun was one of the foremost in the ruling class of barons in Outremer, Baldwin d’Ibelin. For a man of Baldwin d’Ibelin’s position to fall into captivity was naturally mortifying and costly, but it was not a mortal blow.

However, Saladin was the warrior of that era who was more meticulous than any other in obtaining information about the enemy; nothing that had to do with power in Antioch, Tripoli, or Jerusalem escaped Saladin’s attention.

For that reason he knew to set a high price for the release of Baldwin d’Ibelin. He demanded the dizzying sum of 150,000 besants in gold, the highest ransom ever demanded from either side in the almost hundred-year war.

What Saladin knew, and what determined his price, was that Baldwin d’Ibelin was probably going to be the next king of Jerusalem. The leprous King Baldwin IV’s days were numbered, and the reigning monarch had already failed once in his attempt to arrange the succession to the throne by marrying his sister Sibylla off to William Longsword. This Longsword had soon died, presumably from one of the shameful diseases that ravaged the court of Jerusalem, although people called it consumption.

After William Longsword’s death, Sibylla gave birth to a son whom she named after her brother, King Baldwin. But she was in love with Baldwin d’Ibelin, and the king had nothing at all against such an alliance. The Ibelin family was one of the most respected among the land-owning gentry in Outremer, and the marriage between Sibylla and Baldwin d’Ibelin would strengthen the position of the court and diminish the opposition to the worldly landowners in the Holy Land.

Unfortunately for Baldwin d’Ibelin, Saladin was fully informed of this. And since he could claim that in essence he had a king in captivity, he demanded a king’s ransom.

But 150,000 besants in gold was more than the combined assets of the entire Ibelin family, and in this part of the world there was only one man who might put up such a fortune, and that was Emperor Manuel of Constantinople.

Baldwin d’Ibelin sued for his freedom from Saladin by swearing on his honor either to borrow the sum or to return to captivity. Saladin, who had no occasion to doubt the word of a respected knight, agreed to the proposal, and Baldwin d’Ibelin traveled to Constantinople to attempt to persuade the Byzantine emperor to lend him the money.

Emperor Manuel found it rather convenient to have a claim on the next king of Jerusalem for the rest of his life by making an admittedly large contribution. So he lent Baldwin all the gold he needed, and the latter sailed off for Outremer and paid Saladin. Then he was able to return to Jerusalem to report the good news about his freedom and once again resume his love affair with Sibylla.

But Emperor Manuel, Saladin, and Baldwin d’Ibelin himself had not reckoned with the women at the court of Jerusalem and their attitude toward men with large debts. The mother of both the king and his sister Sibylla, the constantly scheming Agnes de Courtenay, had little difficulty in convincing her daughter of the folly of such a relationship burdened by a debt of 150,000 besants in gold.

One of Agnes de Courtenay’s many lovers was a crusader knight who had never exchanged sword blows with the enemy but preferred exercises in bed. His name was Amalrik de Lusignan. Even though he was no warrior he was not slow in seeing the opportunities in the play for power at court. To Agnes he began praising his younger brother Guy, who was said to be a handsome man as well as quite a passable lover.

So while Baldwin d’Ibelin went to Constantinople to see Emperor Manuel, Amalrik de Lusignan was in France to fetch his brother Guy.

When Baldwin d’Ibelin, after many trials, returned to Jerusalem, he found that Sibylla had transferred her affections to the newly arrived Guy de Lusignan.

The difference between having Guy de Lusignan rather than Baldwin d’Ibelin as king of Jerusalem would have been like darkness versus light or fire versus water. Without realizing it himself, Saladin had shortened the path to his ultimate victory.

As far as the Knights Templar were concerned, the defeat at Marj Ayyoun was also of great significance, since Grand Master Odo de Saint Armand was one of the survivors and was taken prisoner after the battle. Normally all Hospitallers and Templars were beheaded as soon as they landed in captivity. Their Rule forbade them to be ransomed, so they had no financial value as prisoners. They were also the Christians’ best knights, and from Saladin’s point of view they were better off beheaded than exchanged for Saracen prisoners, which was the other possibility besides ransom.