He also admitted that Sigrid had been very close to King Sverker, but that the king did not look upon his own Norwegian mother's clan with tender eyes. So his lineage was both for and against the Sverker clan.
Others took a clearer position, most of them in favor of the Sverker clan, as it turned out, but Magnus did not want to bind himself or point to any of those present as his future enemy. That would be unwise no matter what happened. The enemies that God would give to a man would have to be faced sooner or later with the sword, regardless of what a man said on the spur of the moment in front of the church.
But his expression was dark and gloomy on the way home, and as they were nearing Arnäs he gazed about restlessly, as if he already expected the estate to be under siege, although the snow still protected Arnäs from any assaults by soldiers from the north and east.
When they arrived home Magnus called for more wood to be brought to the forges and he had them fired up. He summoned all the smithy thralls and set them to work at the bellows and anvil to forge arrowheads and spear points, as many as they could make. They had plenty of raw iron at Arnäs, but it was unsuited for making swords.
The very next day Magnus outfitted two heavy sleighs to travel to Lödöse and acquire the provisions that would be necessary for the coming war.
But the winter only slowly loosened its grip over Arnäs, and no news was heard of armies being mobilized in either Eastern Götaland or in Svealand. Magnus fell into a better humor and converted the work in the smithies and carpenters' shops to more everyday purposes. Sigrid had also calmed him with the idea that Arnäs would hardly be the first place the war would strike. If Erik Jedvardsson was now declared king of the Swedes, and Karl Sverkersson king of Eastern Götaland, then those two ought to fight it out amongst themselves. Here in Western Götaland the most important thing was to swear allegiance to the victor afterward.
Magnus half agreed with her. But he thought it equally likely that one of them would turn first to Western Götaland to acquire yet another of the three crowns that Erik Jedvardsson said he wanted to possess. And then a decision would have to be made. Would Erik Jedvardsson be the first to make such a demand? Or would it be Karl Sverkersson? Both possibilities were wide open.
Sigrid believed that in any case they could not affect the situation by sitting at Arnäs and speculating as they drank ale late into the night. Sooner or later everything would be made clear. Then, and only then, would it be time to decide. Magnus was content with that plan for the time being.
But when the icicles had been dripping from the roofs for a week and the ice on the lake had begun to thaw, a misfortune befell Arnäs that was considerably greater than the one that would have occurred if either of the two kings had come to visit and demanded an oath of allegiance.
Eskil and Arn were now more subdued and disciplined since lay brother Erlend had returned to Arnäs just after Blasiusmas on February 3rd. From dawn to dusk they were kept in a corner of the hall in the longhouse, close to the fireplaces, where lay brother Erlend hammered knowledge into their reluctant little minds. Both boys found their work tedious, because the texts Erlend had brought back from Varnhem were few in number and dealt with things that held no interest for little boys or even grown men in Western Götaland. They contained mostly various philosophical dissertations on the elements and physics. Yet the work was not intended merely to teach them philosophy, for they were far too young for that; it was meant to torment them with Latin grammar. Without grammar there was no learning at all; without grammar the world would be closed to all understanding, as Erlend constantly repeated. And with a sigh the boys would once again obediently bend their heads over the texts.
Now it's true that lay brother Erlend did not complain. But he too could have imagined a more important demonstration of his calling from God, or at least a more pleasant task, than trying to pound knowledge into the reluctant minds of small boys. But he would never dream of questioning the orders of Father Henri. And, as he sometimes told himself gloomily, perhaps this assignment was merely a difficult test that he had to endure, or a continued punishment for the sins he had committed in his earthly life before he had heard the call.
But the day of rest was sanctified, even for boys who worked only with Latin. And on the Sabbath the two dashed out after morning prayers and vanished from sight like soaped squirrels. Magnus and Sigrid had agreed to leave them alone, and they preferred not to know what the boys did outside the quiet and meditation that the day of rest required in accordance with God's commandment.
The thrall boy Kol had a tame jackdaw that he carried around on his shoulder wherever he went, and he had promised Eskil and Arn that together they would catch new baby jackdaws as soon as this year's brood was big enough in early summer to pluck baby birds from their nests up in the tower.
Now they had snuck up to see how many nests there were, and if there were already eggs. There were no eggs yet, but they saw that the jackdaws had begun to weave their nests for the year, and that was promising.
Eskil had asked to borrow the jackdaw from Kol and let it sit on his shoulder, and Kol of course agreed, although he pointed out that the bird might be a bit more standoffish with strangers than it was with him.
And just as Kol feared, the jackdaw suddenly left Eskil's shoulder and flew off to perch far out on the parapet. Eskil didn't dare do anything about the matter, because he was afraid of heights. Kol didn't dare do anything because he was afraid of scaring the bird into flying off somewhere between heaven and earth. But Arn crawled cautiously along the parapet to catch hold of the string that was tied around one of the bird's legs. He couldn't reach it and had to climb up into the icy arrow slit, stand on tiptoe, and stretch out his hand as far as he could. When he reached the string and gingerly grabbed it, the jackdaw lifted off with a shriek, and Arn was dragged along as the bird plummeted. To the other terrified boys it seemed an eternity before they heard a dull thump down below as Arn struck the ground.
Soon Arnäs was resounding with shouts and wails as Arn, unconscious, was carefully carried off on a stretcher to the cookhouse. By the time they laid him down, they saw that all hope was gone. Arn lay completely pale and still and he wasn't breathing.
When Sigrid came running from the longhouse, she was at first beside herself, as any mother would have been at the news that a son had fallen and been knocked senseless. But when she saw that it was Arn lying there, she stopped short and fell silent, and her face was filled with doubt. She thought that what she was seeing couldn't be true. Arn couldn't possibly die so young; she had been convinced of that ever since the moment he was born, with the caul of victory.
But lifeless he lay, pale, not breathing.