Birth Of The Kingdom Part 26

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 hors.e.m.e.n 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.

Cecilia Blanca turned pale as she sank to the ground and silently rocked back and forth, tearing her nails b.l.o.o.d.y scratching at the earth. Finally she uttered a scream that stabbed like knives into everyone's heart. Erik jarl led her inside the church, where they both stayed for a long time.

Arn gave orders for the horses to be looked after, for the weapons to be put away, and for the three Erik sons to be taken to the cool room made of bricks that was used to store meat. It was not a dignified place for the fallen sons of a king, but the bodies had already begun to smell, and they needed to be buried soon.

He took his wife Cecilia to their own house and closed the door. Then he briefly and in Cecilia's eyes rather cold-heartedly recounted what had happened. Three royal sons had been killed by Sverker's people. The Forsvikers had slain almost all of the one hundred men sent out by Sverker; only a few had escaped. And so it was that war had come to the Gota lands, even though it would be a relatively long time before the real battles began. The important thing right now was to bury Erik jarl's brothers. Arn suggested the church at Riseberga cloister, since it was the closest, and at the moment a journey to Varnhem would be dangerous as well as too long and hot for those who had already been dead a week.

Cecilia had a hard time replying to Arn's question about Riseberga, since she felt confused by the fact that she didn't really recognize him. His eyes had grown narrow and cold, and he spoke in a terse and harsh manner. After a while she realized that this was a different Arn than the one she knew; this was not her beloved and gentle husband or Alde's father, this was the warrior from the Holy Land.

She saw the same change in Erik jarl when he appeared with his arm around his trembling mother, leaving her in Cecilia's care as if she were a child. Then he took Arn aside at once to exchange only a few words about how and when they ought to ride to Riseberga.

That very day the funeral procession set off from Forsvik. Most of the young n.o.blemen who had been part of the force that went to algars now stayed behind at Forsvik. In Arn's opinion, the talkativeness that had come over them after partic.i.p.ating in and winning their first armed conflict would not be fitting at a funeral. Instead, three cavalry squadrons were formed and armed from those who had remained behind at Forsvik when their kinsmen rode off to algars. But the six who had been knighted by Erik jarl had to come along, since honour demanded their presence.

At Riseberga cloister the three sons of the king were buried, and a large sum was donated for prayers of intercession on their behalf. Erik jarl borrowed the money from Arn and Cecilia Rosa. Cecilia Blanca, as the mother of the dead men, remained at the cloister when the funeral procession returned to Forsvik. Neither she nor anyone else knew how long she might stay there, whether for a short time or forever.

During that autumn and early winter, many Folkung and Erik riders headed off in all directions. Erik jarl went to Norway to attempt to win the support of warriors there. Eskil and his son Torgils, along with Arn and Magnus Mneskold, made a long journey through Svealand, where news of the ignominious murder of the three Erik sons aroused great anger. The Swedes seemed to consider the Erik clan as their royal clan. Relics from Erik jarl's paternal grandfather, St. Erik, were carried around the fields in Uppland to bring a good harvest. At the judge's ting ting at the Mora Stones outside ostra Aros, the Swedes voted unanimously to take up their swords at once. The Folkungs from the south managed to dissuade them, since a Svea army would undoubtedly need better footing than the autumn mire to do full justice to their bravery, as Arn cautiously presented the matter. What he had seen of the Svea warriors at the at the Mora Stones outside ostra Aros, the Swedes voted unanimously to take up their swords at once. The Folkungs from the south managed to dissuade them, since a Svea army would undoubtedly need better footing than the autumn mire to do full justice to their bravery, as Arn cautiously presented the matter. What he had seen of the Svea warriors at the ting ting did not persuade him that they'd be able to accomplish much against the Danish cavalry. After a lengthy and loud discussion, they finally agreed that the Swedes should go in force to ostra Gotaland to join the warriors at Bjalbo in the spring, between the feast of Saint Gertrude and Annunciation Day. did not persuade him that they'd be able to accomplish much against the Danish cavalry. After a lengthy and loud discussion, they finally agreed that the Swedes should go in force to ostra Gotaland to join the warriors at Bjalbo in the spring, between the feast of Saint Gertrude and Annunciation Day.

On their way home the Folkungs stopped at Eskilstuna, where Arn donned the attire of a Templar knight to visit the hospital of the Order of St. John. If he had hoped to find Hospitaller knights of the order in Eskilstuna, he was soon disappointed. The brothers there devoted themselves almost exclusively to caring for the sick, and he had to give up any idea of acquiring reinforcements from the best warriors in the world besides the Templars. But he was courteously received by the brothers, and they had done their job well, almost as if they had been Saracens, with regard to Arn's two wounded young men. They would both be able to return to the saddle by spring.

After the New Year, a ting ting was called at Arnas for the Folkung clan, and Erik jarl returned from his Norwegian travels in order to attend. It had been a disappointing journey because the Norwegians were once again at each other's throats; they had their hands full with their own war. But Erik jarl brought greetings from Harald ysteinsson, who had now become jarl of the Birchlegs in Nidaros and had been granted several large estates. Harald had promised that as soon as he was victorious in Norway, he and his kinsmen would come to the aid of the Folkungs and Eriks. That was a promise of questionable value. was called at Arnas for the Folkung clan, and Erik jarl returned from his Norwegian travels in order to attend. It had been a disappointing journey because the Norwegians were once again at each other's throats; they had their hands full with their own war. But Erik jarl brought greetings from Harald ysteinsson, who had now become jarl of the Birchlegs in Nidaros and had been granted several large estates. Harald had promised that as soon as he was victorious in Norway, he and his kinsmen would come to the aid of the Folkungs and Eriks. That was a promise of questionable value.

Before the start of the ting ting of the Folkung clan, Erik jarl took a tour of the walls with Arn because he hadn't been there in many years. He offered much praise for the mighty strength of this castle, but he also had to admit that it made him uneasy. When Arn asked him outright what he meant by this, Erik jarl said that no one could help seeing how Arnas had grown. It was evident that the power of the Folkungs was much greater than that of anyone else. The hors.e.m.e.n that Arn had trained at Forsvik so that they could easily defeat an enemy force of twice their numbers at algars had merely reinforced their power. So who was he, Erik jarl, leader of the much weaker Erik clan, to think that he might set his father's crown upon his own head? of the Folkung clan, Erik jarl took a tour of the walls with Arn because he hadn't been there in many years. He offered much praise for the mighty strength of this castle, but he also had to admit that it made him uneasy. When Arn asked him outright what he meant by this, Erik jarl said that no one could help seeing how Arnas had grown. It was evident that the power of the Folkungs was much greater than that of anyone else. The hors.e.m.e.n that Arn had trained at Forsvik so that they could easily defeat an enemy force of twice their numbers at algars had merely reinforced their power. So who was he, Erik jarl, leader of the much weaker Erik clan, to think that he might set his father's crown upon his own head?

Arn didn't take this concern seriously but jested that if Erik found himself a good marshal he would have fewer worries. Erik jarl didn't understand the jest but replied almost angrily that he thought Arn was his marshal.

'Yes, such is the case,' replied Arn with a laugh, placing his hand on Erik jarl's powerful shoulder. 'Surely you haven't forgotten what we swore to each other at your father's deathbed. I am your marshal. For me, you are already king. Such was my oath.'

'Why don't you Folkungs seize power now that it's within your reach?' asked Erik jarl, not entirely rea.s.sured.

'For two reasons,' said Arn. 'First, we have all sworn to fight for your crown, and the Folkungs do not take their oaths lightly. Second, you have the Swedes on your side, but we don't. Your axes and few hors.e.m.e.n may not frighten many Danes, but I have no doubt of their bravery, and besides they are many in number.'

'And if I didn't have the Swedes on my side?' said Erik jarl, throwing out his hands.

'Then we would still stand by our word and you would become king. But who will succeed you is less certain; perhaps Birger Magnusson.'

'Young Birger who is the son of your Magnus Mneskold?'

'Yes, he is the most lively of the brothers at Ulvsa, and he has a good head. But why should we be thinking of those days that will come long after we're gone? The future is in G.o.d's hands, and right now we have a war to win. That should be our first thought.'

'And will we win this war?'

'Yes, most certainly. With G.o.d's help. The only question is what will happen afterwards. Sverker has no strong army supporting him; we'll vanquish him by spring. Even the Swedes could accomplish that. If he falls in battle, it will be over. If he manages to flee to Denmark, we will have Valdemar the Victor upon us. And then we'll have to pull back a bit.'

'So it would be best if we kill Sverker in the spring?'

'Yes, that's my view. It's the only sure way of preventing him from bringing in the Danes.'

Not much came of the first war against King Sverker. In the spring of 1206, a large and noisy horde of Swedes came south to Eastern Gotaland, threatening to plunder Linkoping if King Sverker refused to meet them on the battlefield. While they waited for his answer, they drank up all the ale but otherwise spared the town.

King Sverker, his most loyal supporters, and his retainers then fled from Nas and headed south to Denmark. The Swedes had to return home without delivering a single blow from their axes. He left behind his daughter Helena at Vreta cloister, where she was confined with the novices.

Erik jarl then moved with his mother and kinsmen to his childhood home at Nas and henceforth called himself King Erik, since both the Swedes and the Folkungs recognized him as such. Arn thought the king ought to have sought the protection of Arnas instead, but he sent three squadrons of young Folkung riders to join the king's retainers at Nas.

Now the question was not if the Danish army would come, but when. For now King Erik's tenuous kingdom was secure, since during that year Valdemar the Victor was busy with a new crusade. He was plundering the Livonian islands of Dago and osel, killing many heathens or those who were not sufficiently Christian, and taking much silver back to Denmark.

The workers in the weapons smithies at Forsvik were now toiling day and night; the fires were doused only on the day of rest devoted to G.o.d. That year young Birger Magnusson began training with the largest group of young Folkungs that had ever been taken on at Forsvik. New houses were also built, including a separate house for the six knights that King Erik had dubbed after the victory at algars. And as a belated gift from the king, all six men had been given spurs of gold. In their hall hung both Sverker and Danish shields that they had seized in their first victory.

Not until late in the autumn of 1207, after the first snowfall, did word come that a large enemy force was on its way north from Skne. King Valdemar the Victor was not leading the army himself, perhaps because he didn't want to offend his tributary King Sverker. But he had sent all his best commanders, including Ebbe Sunesson and his brothers Lars, Jakob, and Peder. And with them were twelve thousand men; it was the mightiest army that had ever been seen in the North.

Arn sent out a call to the Folkungs and Eriks, telling them to gather at two strongholds, the one at Arnas and the one at Bjalbo, which was more of a fortified estate than a fortress. After that he made ready to take four light squadrons from Forsvik and ride at once to meet the enemy.

Cecilia felt equal parts dread and admiration when she saw the zeal displayed by Arn. She couldn't understand that there could be any joy in riding to face an impossibly superior enemy with only sixty-four young men. Arn then made time to speak with both her and Alde on the last evening before his departure. It was not his intention to engage in a real battle, he a.s.sured both of them. But for some inexplicable reason the Danes had chosen to come in the wintertime, and that made their heavy horses even slower. Danish riders would never be able to catch any Forsvikers; it would be a matter of flying past them at a safe distance. But it was necessary to obtain information about their intentions, their weapons, and their numbers.

What he told Cecilia and Alde was undoubtedly true, but it was far from the whole story.

Arn and his men got their first view of the enemy south of Skara. It was a few weeks before Christmas; the fields were snow-covered, but it was not yet really cold. The Forsvikers hadn't needed to put on the bulky garb that they wore in the winter, with thick layers of felt over all the steel and iron. They rode annoyingly close to the Danish forces, moving in the opposite direction, at first partly to count the number of men, partly to see where they could do their enemy the most damage. Now and then the Danes sent a group of heavy riders with lances toward them, but they easily rode out of range. They saw that King Sverker and Archbishop Valerius were situated in the middle of the army, surrounded by a strong force carrying many banners. Arn decided that an attack on the king himself would not be worthwhile. Their own losses would be too great, and they couldn't be certain of killing the king. In addition, most of Arn's young men had never been in battle; they needed to experience a few victories in several lesser a.s.saults before he could order them to put their lives at risk.

But an hour's ride along the convoy he found easier targets. There most of the Danes' provisions and fodder for the horses were being hauled on sluggish ox-carts through the mire created by all the riders up ahead. It would have been easy to ride up to the draft animals and kill enough of them, while also setting fire to the fodder, so that the enemy army would have been significantly delayed.

But there was no need to make haste with such action, and besides, now would be a good time to teach the young men more about war in general. Arn had no doubt that on the small scale, in terms of protecting their own lives and limbs, he could rely on the Forsvikers. Without releasing a single arrow or making any attempt to attack even if only to instil fear, Arn and his riders withdrew for the night to a village that was far enough away from the Danish army. They treated the villagers with consideration, taking only what they needed for an evening meal. Nor did they strike or harm anyone who complained.

Arn spent the evening and much of the night describing how they would destroy the Danes' provisions. Yet there was not much point to such action now because the enemy convoy had the city of Skara ahead. If the army arrived there starving, angry, and without fodder for their horses it would not bode well for those who lived in Skara. But as things now stood, it was uncertain what Sverker and his Danes intended to do after Skara. Arn speculated that the reason they had arrived in the winter was that they planned to reach Lake Vattern when it was frozen over so as to reclaim for Sverker the royal castle of Nas. That would not be much of an achievement, but kings often had a tendency to think like children. If Sverker once more occupied Nas, he would again feel like the king. But how was he going to provide for such a large Danish army at Visingso in the middle of the lake? And if it wasn't possible to find supplies for them there, what was the next step?

Arn laughed and seemed in high spirits, and this wasn't just because he wanted to infuse courage into his young and inexperienced warriors. He understood full well what it felt like for a small force of sixty-four men to ride past an army that was three hundred times as large. But on the following day they would gain more self-confidence.

After a long and good night's sleep, since the days were short at this time of the year, Arn told his men that they would now be going into battle. Not against oxen and supply carts but against the best of the Danish hors.e.m.e.n, who were no doubt those riding in the lead. The reason for this was simple. They were going to teach the Danes that whoever pursued the faster enemy would not come back alive.

The first time they carried out this simple plan, everything went as expected.

Arn took only one squadron, riding towards the front of the enemy army where many banners could be seen and where there was a large contingent of heavy cavalry. At first the Danes couldn't believe their eyes when they saw a mere sixteen men come riding at a slant towards their vanguard, getting closer and closer. Finally they were so near that the hors.e.m.e.n could shout jeers at each other. Then Arn pulled his bow from his back, calmly strung it, and placed his quiver at his side, as if he was planning to stay for a long time. Then he nocked an arrow and took aim at the foremost of the banner carriers, who raised his shield at once. Arn abruptly changed his aim and felled a man much farther back who was sitting there gaping in surprise rather than bothering to protect himself. Only then did all of the Danes raise their shields, and furious commands resounded over the entire advance group with fifty heavy riders gathered to stage a broad attack. Arn laughed loudly and told his sixteen men to nock their arrows.

Naturally that was too much for the Danes, who immediately launched an attack with lowered lances and the snow spraying out from the front hooves of their heavy horses. Almost indolently the sixteen Folkungs and Arn turned their horses and headed for the nearest grove of trees with their pursuers only a few lance-lengths behind, a distance they were careful to maintain.

From the Danish army loud, triumphant laughter arose as the soldiers saw what a sorry spectacle the enemy made, chased away into the woods.

But not a single Danish rider returned, because among the trees they had encountered three squadrons of light riders who approached at close range and then shot their arrows, finishing off any survivors with their swords.

This sort of cunning wouldn't work on a second attempt since the Danes didn't dare pursue the chase after the taunting and fleeing enemy. But by now the Danish army had already been delayed because of the loss of some of their heavy riders, since such hors.e.m.e.n were often high-born men and they had to be tended to after death, unlike the bodies of ordinary foot-soldiers. The Danes were now hungry for revenge, of course, but since they were travelling with riders in the vanguard because of the deep snow, they had no foot-soldiers up front with bows. And their horses could not keep up with the lighter and faster steeds of the Forsvikers.

The next day Arn rode close to the head of the Danish army with all sixty-four of his men. He had chosen a spot where the landscape opened up just beyond two high hills, and there was an expansive view in all directions, so the Danes wouldn't suspect an ambush.

The Forsvikers quietly approached, moving in so close that they were certain of being able to strike home with their arrows. But this time they aimed not at the iron-clad hors.e.m.e.n or their shields but at their horses. Every horse that was. .h.i.t was as good as dead, and that meant a horseman on foot, especially if the arrow struck the horse's belly. The heavy snowfall had prompted the Danes to ride without chain mail for their horses.

Once again the Forsvikers' attack enraged the Danes, who lined up a hundred hors.e.m.e.n with lances to stage a counterattack.

The Forsvikers now seemed to be frightened and hesitant, and they turned around to flee; with that, the Danish riders attacked at once. And so they rode out into the snow, getting farther and farther away from the rest of the Danish army until the heavy pursuers began to falter, having used up most of their strength and that of their horses. Then Arn suddenly turned his fleeing forces and divided them into two groups, which surrounded the Danish riders and went on the attack, using arrows that pierced right through the chain mail. They managed to kill most of the hors.e.m.e.n, or to cause terrible wounds with their swords before they once again had to flee from the reinforcements sent by the army. But this time they didn't succeed in enticing their pursuers to their deaths.

A thaw set in, and the soft, knee-high snow was like a blessing for the Forsvikers but a curse for the Danish cavalry.

Over the following days the enemy grew more discriminating when it came to making a sortie against the Forsviker forces. Not much was accomplished by either side, but according to Arn, that was the whole intention.

The Danes stopped for a short time in Skara but did not carry out extensive plundering before they moved on towards the southeast. They didn't even bother to besiege the fortress of Axevalla. That was an important piece of information; they truly were headed for Lake Vattern and Nas. Along the way stood the castle of Lena. Despite his grumbling over the expense, Birger Brosa had indeed followed Arn's advice to have it fortified. The Danes would either take the castle or besiege it in order to secure the route to Nas. So the real battle would take place in the vicinity of Lena. There they would gather to see if it was possible to set a trap for the entire Danish army. Arn sent off four riders with messages for Arnas and Bjalbo, summoning all Swedes and Goths to Lena.

Then it was time for the Forsviker cavalry to cause serious delays for the Danish army so that their own forces would have plenty of time to a.s.semble. It helped that they would soon be several days' ride from Skara.

The first time the Forsvikers switched to the new way of attacking, they killed more than a hundred of the oxen and other draft animals; they also burned most of the fodder at the very back of the Danish column. Then they cut off the supply line to the rear, so that everyone who was sent on foot to Skara to fetch new animals disappeared, never to be seen again.

When heavy riders were dispatched back to protect the columns that were supposed to procure new supplies and draft animals, Arn immediately moved his men up toward the head of the army and began hara.s.sing the standard-bearers by riding close and shooting either the men or their horses. Now the Danes no longer dared send any of their forces to pursue these tormenters.

Every third day Arn sent one squadron home to Forsvik to tend to their minor wounds and tack, to sharpen their weapons and rest, while the next squadron went into service. The most important thing that the Forsvikers achieved during these weeks as they constantly plagued the Danes with their pinp.r.i.c.ks was to delay the army and make them frantic with longing to use their superior force for a decisive battle. The cold grew worse every day, and that too ought to make the Danes more inclined to go into battle with all their troops or to proceed across the ice of Lake Vattern to Nas.

The nights were becoming unbearable for them, and the snow meant that the enemy could approach in silence, even on horseback. Anyone who emerged from his tent at night to stand by the fire would certainly have the blessing of warmth, but he was also blinded by the blaze and couldn't see where the arrows were suddenly coming from. Every night the winter-clad Forsvikers crept up close with their bows.

When the Danes were within a day's ride from the castle at Lena, their blue-clad tormenters suddenly disappeared, but the tracks in the snow clearly led toward the castle, which King Sverker and his men knew well. It looked as if the Swedes and Goths were finally preparing to fight like honourable men.

And such was truly the case. At Lena the entire Swedish army had a.s.sembled, consisting of three thousand men on foot, along with all of the Folkung riders.

But of even greater importance was the fact that from every Folkung estate thralls and stable hands, peasants, caretakers and smiths had arrived in great numbers; even some house thralls had come. Most brought their own longbows with them and five arrows. But anyone who needed a new string or even a new bow or arrows was well supplied. More than three thousand of these low-born archers had gathered at Lena.

The Forsviker cavalry was one hundred and fifty strong; a third of them were heavy riders, the rest were light. Two hundred crossbowmen from Arnas and Bjalbo and other Folkung estates were also there, as were a hundred men with long horse lances and steel-clad horse shields.

As the Danish army approached Lena, the Folkungs, the Swedes, and the few Eriks who had managed to get past the Danes, took up position in the valley at the foot of Hogstenaberget. In the vanguard stood the heavy riders, mostly to tempt the Danes into what appeared to be an easy a.s.sault. Behind them stood the light cavalry, and behind them a defensive wall of shields and long horse lances. Only a few paces in back of the line of shields stood the two hundred crossbowmen, and then the entire roaring and battle-ready army of Upplanders and other wild Swedes who were the foot-soldiers.

At the very rear were the more than three thousand longbow archers. They were the key to either victory or defeat.

Arn had brought with him King Erik and two squadrons of his own hors.e.m.e.n to ride out to the Danes and induce them to turn in the right direction. With King Erik rode his standard-bearer, and the three golden crowns against a blue background could be seen from far away on that clear and cold winter day. It was a signal to the Danes that they were now confronting the real enemy for a decisive battle.

Arn and the king and their retinue didn't need to show themselves to the Danish army for very long before the Danes began doing what they had hoped. The troops came to halt high up in the valley in order to have a downward slope for their first overwhelming attack with the heavy cavalry. They must have been very pleased when they found that the enemy didn't seem to realize what a disadvantage it was to offer the possibility for such a descent. Now the site of the battle had been determined, but it would take several hours before the Danes established order among their forces.

Arn rode with King Erik back to their own army. Together they made the rounds so as to instil courage in their men, since they could all see what a mighty force had begun to rally up on the slope. Time after time Arn and the king tried to impress upon all their men that if everyone did as they were ordered, they'd be able to win victory faster than anyone could guess. But no one should have any doubts or lose their courage, since that was not only a great sin but also halfway to defeat.

To the line of big, rectangular horse shields and lances, they said that each man must stand firm. If a single man started running when the ground shook with horses thundering forward, a gap would appear that could be seen from far away by the attacking riders; that was exactly what they were waiting for in order to get through. But if everyone stood his ground, they would not get through; it was as simple as that.

To the crossbowmen they said time and again that they should take up position only when the enemies were so close that they could see the whites of their eyes. Then, and only then, should they take aim and shoot. Anyone who shot without taking aim would merely lose a bolt, but if everyone did as ordered, more than a hundred riders would fall before the lances, blocking the way for all the riders coming behind them, if any actually came.

But it was difficult to talk any sense into the Swedish army. These savage men looked more as if they were shaking with impatience, wanting to rush out onto the battlefield as fast as possible and get themselves killed.

On the other hand, there were important words to say to the longbow archers who stood at the very back and represented the largest force in the army. Arn explained that they and no one else would secure the victory. If every man did as he had practiced, then the victory was theirs. Otherwise, they would all die together here at Lena.

After King Erik and Arn had spoken with so many longbow archers that their mouths were dry, they noticed that a commotion had started up among the Danish troops, as if they were preparing to attack. Silence fell over the battlefield, and everyone prayed to G.o.d and the saints that they might see victory and survive. The Danes already sensed victory within their grasp, since from their viewpoint high on the slope, they could see that the enemy they were about to fight had an army only a third the size of their own, and less than a third as many riders.

The faces of the Goths, Eriks, and Folkungs turned pale, while the Swedes merely seemed even more impatient to get started.

Arn rode over to the longbow archers and ordered one of the best archers, whom he knew from the village outside Arnas, to shoot an arrow with red fletches to the height and in the direction that all had been ordered to shoot.

One lone arrow soon sailed high and far over the battlefield, landing close to the mid-point between the two armies. Coa.r.s.e laughter was heard from the Danes up there; they seemed to think that some frightened archer had lost his wits. But they had never encountered longbow archers. Arn breathed a sigh of relief and said his last prayers.

When the heavy Danish riders set off, the mighty sound was heard of thousands upon thousands of horses' hooves pounding through the snow. Arn thought that it would have been much worse and more terrifying if the ground had been hard and free of snow; then the roar would have been deafening. But even without the rumble of attacking heavy riders, it was a mighty wall of death and steel that now came pouring down the slope.

Arn sat on his horse near a small hill across from the longbow archers. He ordered them to nock their first arrow and aim as they'd been taught, which was halfway between heaven and earth. There was a great rustling as three thousand bows were pulled taut.

The clang of weapons and the thunder of horses' hooves in the snow came closer, but the snow also sprayed up in an ever-growing white cloud, which was an advantage that Arn only now perceived. He cast a stern glance at the distant arrow with the red feathers, and the wall of hors.e.m.e.n in the snowstorm as they approached it. Then he raised his hand and shouted at the top of his lungs that everyone should wait...and wait...and wait still more!

'Nowwww!' he bellowed as loudly as he could, and dropped his right hand.

And then the battlefield grew dark with a great black cloud that at first rose up and then sank toward the attacking riders; there was a whistling and roaring in the air, as if a thousand cranes had lifted off at once.

When the first salvo of arrows struck the storming Danish army, it was as if G.o.d's iron fist had dealt them a blow from above. Hundreds of horses fell, shrieking and kicking in the great cloud of snow that blinded those who came behind them, causing many who weren't even struck by arrows to fall to the ground. By then the next black cloud of arrows was already on its way.

A thin line of the vanguard Danish riders had pa.s.sed through the deadly rain of arrows and continued forward with undiminished speed. They never realized that they were now only a small part of their own cavalry force.

Arn had ordered the third and last salvo of longbow arrows against the foot-soldiers, who came running behind their own hors.e.m.e.n. Then he had ridden forward to the crossbowmen and commanded all the heavy and light riders in front of them to move to the sides to get out of the way.

He positioned his horse in the midst of the crossbowmen and shouted both to them and to the men with the horse lances that victory was now very close at hand if they would just wait until the right moment. Then he ordered the crossbowmen to stand up and aim as he raised his hand.

At a distance of twenty paces, almost all of the last Danish riders, numbering now barely a hundred, fell to the ground. A few came sliding through the snow all the way up to the lances and were quickly speared.

Now the untouched Folkung cavalry could go on the attack; the riders moved like a plough through the devastated Danish army and soon reached the foot-soldiers, who turned to flee.

Arn didn't even need to give the Swedes a command before they were on their way forward amidst wild war cries, swinging their axes overhead. Arn had to swiftly move out of the way in order not to be mowed down by the Swedes. He rode over to join King Erik, who had taken up position with a squadron of light Forsvikers on a hill with a view of the battlefield.

'May G.o.d grant us victory on this day!' shouted King Erik as Arn rode up alongside.

'He has already done so,' replied Arn. 'But Sverker and his Danes up there don't know it yet, because they probably can't see through the clouds of snow.'

Arn called his light riders back from the battlefield since they were no longer needed among all the Swedes, who were a.s.siduously hacking at the enemy with their axes. Arn moved the riders into position near the place where he and King Erik were watching the battle, which was now more slaughter than war. The Swedish warriors were advancing fiercely, having now been thrown into the type of battle that suited them, with the enemy on foot and most of them already dead or wounded, and in slushy snow.

It was time to seize the victory. Arn took King Erik and his standard and all the light Forsvikers up past the hill where the Danes had stood when they launched their attack. There he divided his forces into two groups and commanded the rider Oddvar and the rider Emund Jonsson to take their men and encircle the royal Danish standard-bearers that were visible some distance away, and cut off any retreat.

King Sverker and his men didn't seem to have fully grasped what had happened. For when Arn and King Erik and their standard-bearer with both the three crowns and the Folkung lion slowly approached, the Danes couldn't believe their eyes. And when they started getting uneasy and cast a glance behind them, they saw that they were surrounded.

The victors took their time, advancing slowly toward King Sverker and his men, among whom they recognized Archbishop Valerius and the marshal Ebbe Sunesson and several more from Nas.

When the circle of Folkung riders closed ranks around Sverker and his men, the Danes were still scanning the battlefield looking for reinforcements. From down there the shrieks of dying men and horses could still be heard. King Erik and Arn approached until they were within two lance-lengths before they stopped. King Erik was the first to speak. His voice was calm and filled with great dignity.

'Now, Sverker, this war is over,' he began. 'You are at the mercy of my favour or disfavour, and I hold your life in my hands like a baby bird. The same is true of the men who are with you. All the others are dead or will be soon; that is what you are hearing from down below. Tell me what you would have done if you were in my position now.'

'He who kills a king will be excommunicated,' replied King Sverker, his mouth dry.

'So you think that you have G.o.d on your side?' replied King Erik with an odd smile. 'Then He has shown you His mercy in a very strange manner today. You came to us in cowardice with a foreign army, and G.o.d rewarded you as you deserved. But now I will tell you what I have decided, and G.o.d knows that I have thought a good deal over what I should do when this moment arrived. Your father killed my paternal grandfather. My father then killed your father. Let it end there. Give me the crown that you bear on your helmet of your own free will. Go back to Denmark and never return to our realm. Take your men and your archbishop with you, except for Ebbe Sunesson, for he has a debt to pay. The next time I will not spare your life. This I now swear before all men and before G.o.d.'

It was not a difficult decision for King Sverker to make. With only a moment's hesitation, he took the crown from his helmet, rode forward to Erik, and handed it to him.

But the marshal Ebbe Sunesson, who realized that now his life had little value, demanded in a loud voice and displaying no fear that he should be allowed to defend himself in a duel, preferably against the cowardly Folkung who hadn't dared to fight him; the one whose brother he had already humbled.

King Erik and the Folkungs were all surprised when they understood that it was of Arn Magnusson the Danish marshal was speaking. They exchanged uncertain glances, as if they couldn't have heard correctly.

'It's true,' said Arn, 'that I have previously refused to kill you as revenge because you murdered my brother for the sake of your own amus.e.m.e.nt. I had sworn an oath of loyalty to Sverker, but I have now been released from that vow. I thank G.o.d for choosing me to give you the reward that you deserve.'