Birth Of The Kingdom Part 25

But blood was not everything. Sune also had to show that he was skilled enough to be a royal guard.

The tests he found easy, and he had to make an effort to remember Arn's words about not showing too much or to let his pride run away with his reason. The Danish guards who were ordered to swing their swords at him were easy opponents; a lad of seventeen at Forsvik would have had no trouble defeating them.

The very first day at Nas he'd been given the red Sverker uniform to wear, and it was the most humiliating moment of his life. In the evening he was invited to sit at the king's table, since it was joyous news that a bold Folkung had joined the king's guard.

It was on that first evening that his eyes fell upon the king's daughter Helena with the long, golden hair. And she looked often at him. But after that night he was not allowed to sit at the king's table; instead his task was to wait on those seated there. Many were the differences between the customs of the Danes and the Goths; the Danes preferred not to have house thralls or freedmen waiting on the king's table in the evening, but young men whom they called pages. So Sune began his life at Nas not as a guard, which he had expected, but as a person who did the work of house thralls. Naturally he could have asked someone whether this was an affront or not, but that question soon lost all importance because he got to see Helena every evening. Even though he never had a chance to speak to her, their eyes continued to meet in secret understanding.

At the royal table, King Sverker always sat in the high seat along with his new Folkung queen Ingegerd Birgersdotter and Helena. Next to the high seat sat the king's Danish marshal Ebbe Sunesson, and sometimes the queen brought her little son Johan jarl with her; she always dressed him with a little crown on his head.

She seemed to be well aware that this was a clear insult to the four Erik sons, who all sat in an inferior place at the table. She always spoke loudly of her son Johan as the jarl, while she addressed Erik jarl as Erik Knutsson. It was not hard to see what queen Ingegerd thought about who should be the next king.

Erik jarl and his brothers Jon, Joar, and Knut never showed any joy at the table, since every meal was yet another affront to them. When the king happened to mention them as his dear guests, toasting them and feigning happiness at having them so close, many of the Danes in the hall laughed in a vulgar manner. The Erik sons were captives at Nas and nothing more.

To Sune they showed only hostility and contempt and were unwilling to be served by him; they said they had sensitive noses and the smell of a traitor did not go well with ale and roast meat. They often drank themselves senseless, and sometimes they had to be dragged from the table. King Sverker was more than willing to let this go on, and he was often the one who ordered more ale just as they looked to be finished drinking for the evening.

During the first autumn, winter, and spring it was almost impossible for Sune to get a single good night's sleep. He lay in a damp, cold stone room with ten other snoring and foul-smelling guards, and tossed and turned in his bunk. The shame of treachery burned inside him, as did the sorrow of seeing the Erik sons drinking their honour under the table and constantly showing him their contempt. But the flame that Helena Sverkersdotter had ignited in him was even more consuming, so that he felt trapped between fire and ice. If he dreamed anything when he finally fell asleep, it was of her face, her long hair, and her lovely eyes. Sleep came as a liberator when he finally was able to succ.u.mb to it.

Just before Midsummer Helena celebrated her eighteenth birthday, and there was to be a great banquet at Nas. In her honour there would be Danish and Frankish games, contests with quarter-staff and sword things that simple Swedes and Goths could not even imagine.

Sune was well aware that he ought to stay away from these festivities, just as Sir Arn had warned him. But then it was announced that the victor of the games would have the honour of being prince for two days and even wear a crown as he sat by young Helena's side for the rest of the feast. Then Sune could no longer keep his reason stronger than the longing of his heart.

The contest would be held as a Frankish game in which anyone who felt himself called could partic.i.p.ate, although at his own risk. The inner courtyard at Nas was cleaned and high wooden bleachers were erected along one wall, where the king and his guests would have a good view of the games.

Sune suffered great anguish when he heard the other guards talking about the games, which most of them intended to enter with horse and battle-club. No guard could win such a contest; that honour would fall to one of the Danish n.o.blemen. But it was a great honour for anyone who made it to the final stages of the compet.i.tion.

The more the others talked about the contest and how it would proceed, the more impossible it became for Sune to resist the temptation. Finally he dressed himself like the others, grabbed a red shield, a battle-club, and the horse he was most accustomed to riding.

Horns blared and drums thundered as the forty hors.e.m.e.n with shields and clubs rode in a circle before the king and his guests. When an hour or so had pa.s.sed, only one of them would still be on his horse. As if to egg them all on, the king got to his feet and held up the victor's crown; all fell silent and the contestants prayed a Pater Noster Pater Noster for themselves. Then a loud horn blast transformed the castle courtyard to a shouting and thundering melee of horses and warriors ferociously hacking at each other. A full dozen men fell to the ground at once. for themselves. Then a loud horn blast transformed the castle courtyard to a shouting and thundering melee of horses and warriors ferociously hacking at each other. A full dozen men fell to the ground at once.

Sune had cautiously moved toward the outermost circle of hors.e.m.e.n and at first was more concerned about keeping himself away from the swinging clubs than trying to knock someone else out of the saddle. With a horse from Forsvik, he thought, he wouldn't have had to raise a hand to any of them, but simply ride off until he was the last one left. But his Danish horse was too sluggish for such a simple fight and had to be continually urged forward with a jab from his spurs.

As the guards fell they were dragged off by stable thralls who also tried to catch the loose horses. When half of all the guards had fallen, the Danish n.o.bles concentrated more on one another. They all reckoned that the victor could only be one of them and that any remaining guards would be easier to handle when they had more s.p.a.ce and there was less risk of a surprise blow delivered from behind.

So Sune had a very easy time of it for the first half hour. He kept out of the fray and stayed alert, always in motion so he would never be a ready target.

When only ten riders were left, Sune knocked his first man out of the saddle with a blow to his helmet from behind. This brought laughter and a surprised gasp from the onlookers, because it was one of the Danish n.o.bles who fell. But now the others also seemed to have discovered Sune and began to take him seriously, because he was one of the last three guards still in the saddle. Suddenly he was everybody's prey; they chased him around the courtyard, which was not without risk for his pursuers, since several of them were struck by men lying in wait and riding in the opposite direction.

When only four n.o.bles and Sune remained, it would have been wisest to let himself be vanquished. Yet it seemed that the intention was for the king's marshal Ebbe Sunesson to win, because no one dared attack him even if the situation was favourable. But Sune's burning will to sit next to Helena was much stronger than his reason. He had reserved his energy and so far displayed only half the skill of which he was capable. Now the decisive moment was approaching and if he didn't want to lose he would have to a.s.sert himself.

When two of the n.o.bles charged him side by side while Herr Ebbe and the fourth remaining Dane just sat still and watched, Sune knew that he could actually win the game. He rode around once with the two pursuing him. Then he cut across obliquely and stopped his horse abruptly in the middle of the courtyard. The steed reared up and turned in the air so that one of the n.o.bles was knocked off by the horse's front hooves and the other was struck in the face by Sune's battle club.

Ebbe Sunesson then surprisingly knocked off the man sitting next to him. The man had both hands on the pommel and was obviously taken completely by surprise. It was as if Herr Ebbe wanted to show that he truly needed no help now that he was going into battle in earnest. Twice he rode back and forth before the king and his guests at a canter, waving his hand and receiving great applause before he turned toward Sune waiting in the middle of the courtyard.

Slowly and sure of victory, Herr Ebbe began to walk his horse toward Sune to decrease the distance before he attacked. Sune decided to try a simple and devastating trick that everyone at Forsvik knew. If his opponent was not prepared for it or underestimated the danger, Sune would win. If he knew the trick or managed to see through it, Sune would be lost.

As if he were afraid of the Danish marshal, Sune let himself be chased twice around the courtyard at high speed until Herr Ebbe, tasting victory, closed from behind and the onlookers roared with excitement. Then Sune stopped short, lowered his head to the horse's back so that his opponent's club whistled through the air. At the same time he turned and landed a blow right on the chest of his pursuer. Herr Ebbe flew back a lance length before he slammed into the ground on his back and b.u.t.tocks.

Sune gathered up his reins and removed his helmet before he rode before King Sverker, his face solemn, and bowed with his right hand pressed to his heart as a sign of loyalty. For a few moments he gazed into Helena's eyes before he straightened up. If his wits were already clouded, the look he received from Helena did not improve matters.

In a rage Herr Ebbe came hobbling over, yelling that this rogue of a guard had won by luck that was not worthy of a victor. As the second-place contestant he now demanded his right to settle the matter by the sword.

The king at first looked around in confusion because he had never heard of this special rule. But some of the Danes around him nodded gravely, confirming that in cases when the victory was unclear, one could proceed to an unequivocal decision by the sword. King Sverker could do nothing but ask Sune whether he agreed to continue fighting or wished to cede the victory to Herr Ebbe, since it could be dangerous to meet such a swordsman.

As close as Sune was to spending two evenings at Helena's side, no reason in the world could make him decline the challenge. The king sighed and decreed that the combatants would meet man to man, with sword and shield and helmet within one hour.

Sune had to lead his horse to the stable himself, while guards took care of Ebbe's mount. When he reached the armoury behind the stables, it was full of guards all talking at once, eager to give him good advice. Most of it seemed to be about watching out for his left foot, because sooner or later Herr Ebbe always swept his sword low toward that vulnerable spot. Others thought it was especially important to watch out for Herr Ebbe when he pretended to lose his balance and halfway turned his back, because then he would strike either at his opponent's left foot or head when he finished his twisting movement.

In the armoury were several Folkung shields, though they had not been repainted in a long time and the damaged sections had not been repaired. But the temptation was too great when Sune discovered that one of these shields fit him almost as well as his own back at Forsvik. Among the swords he didn't have to search very long before he found one that suited him, because the Danes did not use Nordic swords as in the lands of the Goths but Frankish or Saxon ones, which were like those at Forsvik.

Sune was the same height as Herr Ebbe, but the onlookers were deceived by the fact that the latter had attended at least a thousand more banquets, so he looked all the more powerful in his armour when they stepped forward and bowed to the king and queen. Sune looked into Helena's eyes when he raised his gaze.

In the first moments of the contest Sune felt himself turn cold and almost paralysed with fear. There was a mighty weight and strength in Herr Ebbe's blows, and he attacked with hatred in his eyes as if they were enemies on a battlefield. And their swords were not for practice, but honed sharp. When he realized that it really was death he was facing, he cursed his own pride. For a good while he did not connect with a blow of his own, but had to concentrate on parrying and staying away from Herr Ebbe.

Everything that the guards had told him seemed to be true, for in quick succession he had twice seen his opponent strike at the left foot, and twice how Herr Ebbe seemed to wobble to the side only to spin around and in rage aim for Sune's head.

The king and his guests did not like what they were seeing, for a feast day should not conclude with blood and death. But honour forbade even the king from interfering in a duel man to man once it had begun.

After the fight had gone on a while, Sune noticed that he was beginning to think more clearly because the attacks were coming more slowly. With his heart in his throat he had done everything he'd practiced since he was a boy without even thinking, merely counting one, two, three to himself and then moving just as he said three to watch the edge of the sword swish above his head or past his left foot. He grew more self-confident, knowing that he was a Forsviker and that what he could do at home in Forsvik he could also do here.

He stopped merely defending himself and went on the attack. Soon he was driving Herr Ebbe back and giving him no quarter to strike either at his foot or his head. Now Sune also had to start thinking about the end. How one could lose a duel of this type was not hard to imagine. But how to win? Should he, who had been entrusted to gather information and who had been warned by Sir Arn not to draw too much attention, actually kill the marshal of the kingdom?

The longer they went at it, the wearier Herr Ebbe grew and the more he gasped. The opportunity to inflict on him a serious wound became ever more frequent. Sune decided not to kill his opponent but to let the fight continue until the other man could fight no more, because it was evident that Herr Ebbe was twice as old and twice as tired.

Some of the Danish n.o.bles had already approached the king and whispered that the fight against all custom had to be stopped before it came to a disastrous end. Ebbe would certainly not grow less exhausted by continuing, and the young Folkung could have killed him already if he had so wished.

But the king didn't need to intervene. Suddenly Herr Ebbe held up his hand and went over to the king to say that he pardoned the young warrior. Because it would certainly be ill-advised, he said out of breath, if he were forced to kill such a hearty young man who should be serving his king rather than going to an early grave.

Without even the hint of a smile the king nodded pensively at these apparently n.o.ble and wise words and waved Sune over. He then asked him whether he could accept victory on these conditions. A bunch of foolish replies flew like swallows through Sune's head, but he managed to bite his tongue and replied with a bow that it was a great honour to receive this mark of favour from the mightiest swordsman he had ever met or seen.

This was certainly the biggest lie that Sune had uttered since he arrived at Nas. But with only a sliver of wit remaining he tried to make up for his foolhardy behaviour.

And yet it may have been Sune's foolishness that actually saved the future kingdom. For as events now unfolded one after the other, many lives were saved, although many more were wasted.

For two long evenings Sune was allowed to sit with his crown of victory next to Helena. That time was more than enough for the fire that had merely smoldered within them to flare up into a full blaze.

During these two evenings, when they sat together in full view of everyone and had to behave accordingly, they not only confessed their burning feelings for each other but also made more practical plans. They agreed to meet in private, or as close to private as they dared.

Helena was the daughter of a king, and it was still far from decided what the best marriage would be for her. King Sverker no doubt had his hopes that he could marry her off to the Danish king Valdemar the Victor. But there was not much hope of that, since such a mighty king would probably find a wife in the Frankish or German kingdoms. But as long as Valdemar the Victor remained unmarried, hope was not lost.

In the worst case Helena could marry in her own land for the sake of peace, to some Folkung or even an Erik. As long as no decision had been reached, she was allowed to remain unattended, becoming ever more beautiful. Actually King Sverker should have consigned her to one of his own clan's cloisters, to Vreta or Gudhem, to better prepare her for the bridal ale with the man he eventually selected. But she was too dear to him. She reminded him of a time when he was happier than now in his position as king. Her mother Benedikta had been a lovely and fair woman, while his new queen Ingegerd was hard and coa.r.s.e of mouth and as hungry for power as a man. As soon as she bore him a son she had played all sorts of tricks so that she no longer had to take him to her bed. And she constantly nagged him both about petty matters and about intrigues that were dangerous enough to cost them all their lives. Helena was like a beautiful memory and a constant reminder of happier times. That was why he didn't want to send her to a convent.

But he would have done so in an instant if he knew who she was meeting at night. Now these rendezvous were certainly chaste, for Helena had sworn to G.o.d never to let any man enter her bedchamber at night. Her room had once served as the council chamber of the realm, but now it was much too small for the growing royal council. It was situated high up in the eastern tower at Nas, and a wild vine grew on the wall, enabling an eager young man to climb up to the window.

Helena lit two candles in her window as the signal. After his victory in the warrior games Sune had been given command of part of the guards. So it was no problem for him to visit the walls at night, as if he were going to check that all the guards were attending to their duties.

Many were their pa.s.sionate meetings at her window; he may not have entered her bedchamber but he did enter her heart. He would stay until his arms grew numb from holding onto the wild vine, which took a long time because he was stronger than most and more eager than them all.

They refused to reconcile themselves to the fact that she was the daughter of a king, destined to be married to someone better than a guard. They found it utterly irrelevant that she was a Sverker and he a Folkung, and they promised each other eternal faithfulness after only two weeks when he ventured to lean forward and kiss her for the first time.

Because their love was as hopeless as it was great, Helena also told him things that would have been viewed as treason if anyone had heard. But she had only one person in whom to confide.

So one night in late summer Sune learned that the days of Erik jarl and his brothers were numbered. Queen Ingegerd had demanded their lives for the safety of her own son Johan and his legitimate inheritance of the crown of the realm. Often she had dripped her venom like the Serpent in the king's ear, and she claimed to have discovered that the Eriks were merely waiting for the right moment to kill him. She was constantly seeing secret signs that a conspiracy was growing at Nas.

Finally King Sverker gave in. The Eriks would be drowned and delivered to Varnhem for burial, and there would be no mark on their bodies from either sword or dagger wounds. The story would be that they were out fishing for trout and that an unexpected autumn storm on Lake Vattern had blown up and taken their lives.

Sune was doubly filled with sorrow when he heard this news. The lives of the Erik royal brothers may not have been his greatest concern, but the information he had now received was such that he would have to return to Forsvik. That meant being separated from Helena. Otherwise he would have to find a way to warn the Eriks.

At evening meals he often sat right next to Erik jarl and his brothers, although they all refused to talk to him. They treated him as if he were invisible, as a traitor deserved. Loudly so that everyone could hear, Erik jarl had complained more than once that Ebbe Sunesson hadn't been able to lop off Sune's head, but it might not be too late.

As if it were a special insult to have to sit near Sune, the Erik brothers took turns. One evening when it was Erik jarl sitting beside him, the moment came that Sune had been waiting for with growing trepidation. Now he could not falter; it had to happen now.

'The king intends to drown you all and say that the storm took you while fishing. You don't have much time to flee,' he said in a low voice but with a smile as he handed a piece of meat to Erik jarl with a polite bow.

'And why should I believe a traitor like you?' Erik jarl snorted, but not loudly.

'Because I am Sir Arn's man and not the king's, and because I would be a head shorter if anyone heard these words pa.s.s between us,' replied Sune as he courteously poured the jarl more ale.

'Where can we flee?' whispered Erik jarl, suddenly tense and serious.

'To Forsvik. There is shelter there and riders with Sir Arn,' said Sune, raising his ale tankard. 'But you must hurry, you don't have many nights left.'

Erik jarl nodded gravely and to his brothers' astonishment raised his ale tankard to Sune.

Two days later the commotion was great when it was discovered that Erik jarl and his brothers had escaped. n.o.body knew where and n.o.body knew how, and it did no good to whip the guards who had been on duty that night.

The suspicious Queen Ingegerd cast long, suspicious looks at Sune. She thought she had seen Sune and Erik jarl having a brief, whispered conversation, contrary to their habits not so long ago. King Sverker thought it impossible that Sune, the brave and faithful warrior, could have warned the Erik brothers. For how could he have known what was going on in the minds of the king, the queen, or the marshal? Which of the three would have betrayed such a plan? Could Ebbe have confided in Sune, when his feelings about the guard were no secret after the ignominious defeat? If not, could he himself or the queen have done such a thing? No, the Eriks had been lucky and that was all. Besides, it was clear as water that they had not had occasion to thrive at Nas.

The king then did the only thing he could do. He promised two marks in pure gold to anyone who could bring him information about where the Eriks were hiding, because they certainly hadn't been swallowed up by the earth.

It took a year before he learned that all four of them were hiding at an estate in the northern part of Western Gotaland, a Folkung estate called algars. Then he ordered Ebbe Sunesson to equip a hundred hors.e.m.e.n and bring the four back alive, although just their heads would suffice.

Sune found out that the Eriks had been discovered and were doomed to die. The same night that Sune heard this news, he was thrown into the tower dungeon by order of the queen, who had always suspected him. From the tower dungeons he heard the rattling of stirrups and weapons. It meant that the king's hundred riders were preparing to leave at dawn, and he cursed himself. He had pursued this game too long, and he lamented the fact that love had brought him not only his own death, but that of the four royal sons. It had also led to despair, which was a great sin. He who despaired dug his own grave. He began to pray to Saint orjan, the protector of knights and the n.o.ble-minded.

When the night was at its darkest there was a rattle of keys at his cell door, and two men in dark clothes came in and took him gently but silently up the stairs. Helena was waiting for him. They said a hurried and whispered farewell. She was now going to be sent to Vreta cloister, and she wanted him to swear to fetch her from there. He had at first trembled and hesitated at the thought of stealing a maiden from a convent, which was one of the lowest deeds a man could commit. But she a.s.sured him that, first, she would not take the vows; she was a king's daughter and not intended to be a nun. And second, the day she saw blue mantles approaching Vreta she would run to meet them.

He then swore that he and his kinsmen, a squadron in number, in blue mantles and in the middle of the day so that they could be seen from far off, would rescue her from Vreta cloister.

They kissed, weeping, and then she tore herself away with a sigh and hurried off into the darkness.

Down below the castle a small boat awaited. The wind was from the south and should take him to Forsvik in one night.

At dawn Sune was dropped off outside Forsvik clad in tattered, filthy Sverker clothing. His two companions quickly left the harbour and set a course for the north. They would never again set foot at Nas, nor did they need to. Helena with her gold jewellery had paid them more than enough to live a good life elsewhere.

At that early hour there were few people about at Forsvik, but when one of the young n.o.bles on his way out to the privy caught sight of Sune, he at once ran to ring the alarm. A few moments later Sune was surrounded by armed and angry young men cursing him as a traitor. Soon he was dragged, bound hand and foot, over to the big bell that was the gathering place in case of an alarm. There he was forced to his knees while everyone waited for Sir Arn, who came running over half-dressed in chain mail.

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 Nas. 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 G.o.d 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 Nas, 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 algars, and he was sending a hundred fully armed men to kill them. If it was true that the Erik brothers were at algars, there wasn't much time.

Arn nodded grimly. It was true that on Bengt Elinsson's advice they had moved the men to algars 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 Nas. 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.

algars 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 algars.

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 fort.i.tude 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 algars 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 algars to the brothers of the Order of St. John in Eskilstuna. He sent the two wounded men by cart to orebro, and from there it was an easy journey across Lake Hjalmaren to the brothers' hospital.

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