by Jan Guillou
Mother Rikissa was a grasping woman; some called her downright vicious, and it was sometimes difficult for young novices to deal with her. But as a close relation to the king, she also had a firm understanding of worldly power.
Katarina now came and unexpectedly confessed to an old sin that she had kept silent about in her earlier confession, recounting the carnal relations that she'd had with young Arn Magnusson. Mother Rikissa should have been very strict with Katarina because of her long silence. But as Katarina explained with her eyes lowered as she seemed to wipe away a tear, her sin had now become even worse. That same Arn had seduced not only her, as he with a smooth tongue promised her a betrothal ale, but also her sister Cecilia, who was now with child.
Mother Rikissa saw at once a great possibility opening up. Katarina had clearly also seen it, since she demurely pointed out that the seducer Arn was Knut Eriksson's close friend, and that much trouble could be stirred up for the enemy if Arn Magnusson were to be excommunicated.
Mother Rikissa prescribed a very mild punishment for Katarina's inadequate confession and belated admission, and sent her away for a week of solitude, silence, bread and water, and the usual list of prayers. Katarina humbled herself and kissed Mother Rikissa's hand in gratitude, thanking aloud the Holy Virgin for the kindness that had been vouchsafed her. Then she left with a little satisfied smile, which sharp-eyed Mother Rikissa did not fail to notice.
The prioress strode resolutely toward the scriptorum, ramming her heels hard on the floor, a sound that the novices at Gudhem feared more than anything else. There she wrote to Boleslav, insisting that he must appeal to the archbishop in Ostra Aros regarding this matter. She also wrote to Bishop Bengt in Skara, telling him that he must deal with this excommunication as soon as possible, before the crime was compounded by being blessed by any servant of the Lord in the diocese who married the two sinners. She harbored a great hope of winning Bishop Bengt to her side, since she knew that he shared her uneasiness that the time of generosity toward the church and its foremost servants might now be at an end. For Bishop Bengt owed a great debt of gratitude to the Sverker clan as well.
Katarina and Mother Rikissa soon got what they both wanted, although they had very different reasons for wishing it to be so. Two weeks later Bishop Bengt announced at the mass in Skara cathedral that Cecilia Algotsdotter and Arn Magnusson had been excommunicated. No clergyman in all of Western Gotaland could have anything to do with either of them. The only sanctuary they would be able to seek was within a cloister.
*
For the second time Arn and Cecilia traveled together to Gudhem cloister, but this time their journey was lamentable. Magnus had sent an escort to accompany them on the road, and all the retainers were strictly enjoined to bear the Folkung colors and pennants. Magnus did not want his son to ride in shame and neglect to his penance and sanctuary.
They had not much to say to each other on the way, since everything had already been said before. Cecilia had found it difficult to forgive Arn, no matter how many times he explained that he was so drunk on ale when Katarina came to him that he hardly knew what was happening. But Cecilia objected to the fact that he had kept it from her anyway, so that she was unknowingly dragged into a sin that could have been avoided. He feebly tried to defend himself by saying that he hadn't found it easy to tell the one person in the world he loved above all others that he had sinned with her sister. And he hadn't known of the law that declared it an abomination. She believed him on the latter point, although she found it odd that he of all people wouldn't know the Christian law. After they had hashed this over again and again until it was more than enough, they started to think about the road ahead. As Arn understood the situation, it might take a long time before the sin was confessed to Rome and absolved, perhaps a year or even longer. She had a gloomier view of the future.
When they parted outside the walls of Gudhem he swore before God that he would come back one day to take her out of there. He swore on his sword to convince her even further, though she merely found that childish. But he stubbornly repeated that she had to believe him, and never waiver in that belief. For as long as he breathed he would always look forward to the day when they could be reunited, and he beseeched her not to take the three cloister vows, because such vows could not be taken back. Better to live as a novice, although novices, like lay brothers, had a worse time of it in the cloister than those who took the vows. She nodded silently at his words, tore herself away from him, and ran toward the gate where Mother Rikissa, scornful and stern, awaited her. When the iron-mounted oak gate slammed shut behind Cecilia, Arn felt such great sorrow that he thought he would breathe no more. He fell to his knees and prayed for a long time. In silence the retainers waited patiently some distance away. They too were filled with sorrow for his sake, for the sake of the Folkungs, and for all the joy that had been stolen from them and their Erik kinsmen. They felt hatred toward the Sverker clan because everyone knew that they were behind what had happened.
Arn rode only a short way together with his men from Arnas. Then he stopped and changed into the Folkung battle garb, the simple gray homespun garment with a red border that he had worn as his first worldly clothing on that day less than a year ago when he had ridden out from Varnhem. At that time it was expected that he would learn something about the base world. He had indeed learned much in the past year, but right now he found that most of it was evil.
He decided abruptly that he would ride alone toward Varnhem along the eastern shore of Hornborga Lake and through the forest of the mountain Billingen. The retainers certainly tried to dissuade him from this, for the times were uncertain and no one could know for sure what lurked in the forests. Arn replied coldly that in truth he had no intention of relinquishing his sword and may the Lord preserve any highwaymen or other rabble who attacked him in his present state of mind. With that he wheeled Shimal around and rode off without another word. All the retainers in his escort knew that none of them would be able to follow his stallion at the pace it had set, and they could do nothing but begin the dismal return to Arnas without the one whose life they had sworn to protect, with their own if necessary.
Arn rode a long time across fens and bogs where there was no human dwelling. It had already grown dark by the time he reached the slopes of Billingen. He knew that he needed only to continue north and he would soon come upon the fields of Varnhem, where he would either recognize the way or be able to ask directions. But it was risky to ride in the hills at night, and the sky was overcast, with neither moon nor stars lighting his way. He continued on listlessly for as long as he could see where he was steering Shimal, but he soon had to prepare to stop for the night. It was going to be cold, since he had no sheepskins with him and only a thin cloak, but he took this as only the beginning of the tests and the penance that he knew lay before him. He wanted to suffer much, if only it shortened the time of punishment, so that with God's help he would be able to fulfill his holy vow to fetch Cecilia from Gudhem.
In the dusk he found a little hut where a fire was glowing, and next to it stood a tumbledown stable where a cow lowed restlessly when he approached. He surmised that freed or escaped thralls lived here, but he would rather sleep in their hut than out in the cold woods.
He boldly entered the hut to ask for shelter for the night. He now feared nothing, since he could imagine nothing worse than what had already befallen him, and he had silver to offer as payment, which was the honorable and Christian thing to do instead of showing his sword as reason enough for his visit.
Yet he was somewhat shocked by the stooped old woman who sat by the fire stirring a kettle. She spoke in a croaking voice and greeted him not at all politely but with scorn and words that he didn't understand, saying that such as he should fear the dark, while such as she was a friend of the dark.
Arn answered her calmly and explained that he simply sought shelter for the night so that his horse might not be injured by continuing over the mountain in the dark. He added that
he would pay her well for this service. When she didn't answer he went outside and removed the saddle from Shimal and put him in the stable with the lone skinny cow. When he came back to the hut he unbuckled his sword and tossed it on an empty bunk as a sign that this was where he intended to sleep. Then he pulled a little three-legged stool up to the fire and sat down to warm his hands.
The old woman peered at him suspiciously for a long while before she finally asked if he was someone who had a right to bear a sword, or one who bore a sword anyway. Arn replied that there were various opinions on that matter, but that she in any case had nothing to fear from his sword. As if to calm her he took out the little leather purse Eskil had given him when he left and fished out two silver coins, which he put down next to the fireplace so that they were lit by the glow. She picked up a coin and bit it, which Arn found incomprehensible, as he could not understand how anyone could doubt his word or good intentions. But she seemed satisfied with what her few teeth told her and asked if like all the others he had come here to find out what awaited him in the future. Arn replied that the future lay
in God's hands, and no one else could predict it. She laughed so loud at this that she revealed her gaping mouth with only a few blackened teeth. She stirred her pot in silence for a while and then asked whether he would like some of the soup. Arn politely declined. He was already resigned to a long penance on bread and water.
"In what lies ahead for you in life I see three things, boy," she said suddenly, as if her alleged vision was pushing forward despite Arn's lack of interest. "I see two shields; would you like to know what I see?" she went on, squeezing both eyes shut as if to look inside herself. Arn's curiosity was already aroused, and maybe she saw that too behind her closed eyelids.
"What shields do you see?" he asked, sure that she would now say something foolish.
"One shield has three golden crowns against the sky and the other shield has a lion," she replied in a new singsong tone, her eyes still shut.
Arn was dumbstruck. He couldn't conceive of how a solitary old woman far out in the wilderness could have the slightest idea of such things, and even less that she could know who he was, or had been able to guess anything by looking at his clothes. He remembered a story to which he had given little credence, a story told to him by Knut, who said that his father Erik Jedvardsson, out on a crusade, had received a prophecy about the three crowns. But that had happened far away, on the other side of the Eastern Sea.
"What is the third thing you see?" he asked cautiously.
"I see a cross and I hear words with the cross, and what I hear are the words 'In this sign shalt thou conquer,'" she continued in her singsong way, without any expression on her face or opening her eyes.
Arn thought first that she must have been more sharp-eyed than he realized and read the Latin inscription on the hilt of his sword.
"You mean, 'In hoc signo vinces'?" he asked to test her. But she merely shook her head as if the Latin words meant nothing to her.
"Do you see a woman in my future?" he asked with some trepidation, which could probably be heard in his voice.
"You will get your woman!" she shrieked in a shrill voice and opened her eyes, staring wildly at him. "But nothing will be as you think, nothing! "
She laughed at him in her hoarse, cackling voice, but it was as if her mood had been broken and he could no longer get a sensible word out of her. Soon he gave up and lay down to sleep on the bunk where he'd tossed his sword. He wrapped his mantle around him, turned to the wall, and closed his eyes, but he couldn't fall asleep. He tossed and turned for a while, thinking of what the old woman had said, and found that it was both true and meager. The fact that she could see the Folkung and Erik clans inside him was strange, he had to admit. But she hadn't said anything that he didn't know for himself. That he would have Cecilia back was reassuring, and that was what he believed. At last he must have fallen asleep.
When he awoke at dawn she was gone, but Shimal was in his place out in the little stable and neighed a welcome as if nothing had happened.
It was after midday when he rode in through the gate of Varnhem cloister, and all the familiar smells washed over him from the gardens and Brother Rugiero's cookhouse. His arrival was expected but it also aroused some commotion, and two brothers ran to meet him; one led Shimal away and the other escorted him in silence to the lavatorium and then pointed to his clothes. When Arn did not understand, the brother said peevishly that
since he was excommunicated he could not be spoken to before he at least washed up a bit. After that he would be given a lay brother's clothing.
Arn washed himself long and thoroughly and trimmed his long hair as he said the appropriate prayers. In his lay brother's attire, which felt oddly familiar, he then reported to Father Henri at his favorite place in the arcade. Father Henri looked at him with much sternness but also love. Then he sighed heavily and took out his prayer stole and motioned for Arn to prepare himself for his confession. Arn fell to his knees and prayed to Holy Saint Bernard to give him the strength and honesty to perform this confession, which would not be easy to make.
King Knut Eriksson arrived at Arnas with a royal retinue and Birger Brosa. They were many men and it would take some time to see to it that they were all properly quartered. But they were expected, and it was said in the nearest village that the many hungry and weary men would be received well.
Birger Brosa was impatient for them to hold a council as soon as possible instead of pouring ale into themselves first. Even with King Knut present, arrangements were made immediately as Birger Brosa desired, and those involved with the matter gathered in the hall of the longhouse with only a little ale in their bodies.
They prayed first for the Lord to bless this meeting, and that wise words would be spoken here and not foolish ones. Those phrases sounded so awkward and almost simpleminded that Arn's absence was felt like a gust of wind passing through the entire hall. But the question of Arn was only one of the many topics they had to discuss.
Birger Brosa was the one who took the floor when they had settled down to begin the council, and he believed that the first concern had to be the landsting in Western Gotaland, since much depended on Knut obtaining his second crown, and the sooner the better. No one was opposed.
They then spent a good while deliberating what messages should be sent and how knowledge of the ting should be disseminated best and as rapidly as possible. Since nothing that was said on this matter was either new or unfamiliar, this question was also swiftly resolved.
According to Birger Brosa, the next item involved the best way for Knut, once he was elected king, to proceed in order to lift the shame that had befallen the Folkungs with an excommunicated member of the clan. This, said Birger Brosa, was a matter that Knut himself must address.
Knut Eriksson began by assuring them that Arn, as they all knew, was his dearest friend, and that Arn had also done him very great services that had to be reciprocated. In addition, all the good that the Eriks and the Folkungs could do each other had to take precedence above all else. After saying this and more in the same vein, he got to the heart of the matter.
As far as he understood it, an archbishop could without difficulty annul the excommunication ordered by Bishop Bengt in Skara. The problem was that the archbishop had left his see and no one knew where he was. At least he was not in Linkoping, and it would be unfortunate if he had been seized by the Sverker clan, but he was not in Svealand either. Knut's informants would have heard of this, because an archbishop was not that easy to hide.
Now, these men of God could sometimes prove obstinate. So even if they got hold of the missing archbishop, it was not easy to predict how things would turn out if his king required a decision on matters over which the church claimed authority. Priests could always be threatened, that was clear. The clergy were covetous and jealous of their lands, and they strove to gain new gifts of property, which could sometimes make them soft in negotiations. Yet it was impossible to say anythin
g more about this before two things had occurred. First, Knut had to be elected king in Western Gotaland as well, just as his dear kinsman and wise adviser Birger Brosa had said. Then he could negotiate from a position of strength with the archbishop. Besides, the prelate must be fished out from his hiding place before they would have a sense of what stand he might take.
Magnus sadly agreed and confirmed that in this matter they could go no further just now. But he wanted to move on to the next most important concern. With such cases undertaken by the church that had to be documented and sent to Rome, much was unclear for ordinary Christian folk. What they knew was that such complicated negotiations could take time. So they had to think about Arn and Cecilia's child. According to what the womenfolk said, Cecilia would give birth to Arn's son sometime after midwinter. And the Sverker hag at Gudhem would see to it that the child was cast out as soon as possible; they could certainly count on that. So what should be done?
Knut Eriksson spoke first, saying that if he was quickly elected king in Western Gotaland, he would not without a certain satisfaction engage in a tussle with the Sverker hag at Gudhem. She would be made to understand that she no longer inhabited a safe vessel, which should make her vulnerable in negotiations.
Birger Brosa frowned. First, he pointed out, Knut should think carefully before he inflamed the church as his father had done. It would be better to take another tack, trying to persuade by hook or by crook, rather than using threats. Second, no child born of an unlawful bed could be held in a cloister. That would be too much to ask, and no one would be served by the malicious gossip that would result from such an eventuality. With that, the question seemed quite straightforward: Who would take care of Arn Magnusson's son? And for that matter, did unlawful sons become lawful when a marriage was later entered into?