asked what was so funny.
‘God is grea-ea-eat,’ snorted Marcus in Arabic and raised his wine glass to Sir Arn, but a new fit of laughter caught in his throat and he spurted wine all over his host, who calmly poured him some more.
It was not long before Sir Arn and the woman next to him carefully pushed away their plates, wiped off their daggers, and stuck them in their belts. Sir Arn’s brother ate a couple of more huge pieces of meat before he did the same. Then all three in the high seat devoted themselves to drinking; two of them did so quietly while the third drank like the warriors, the Norwegian, and the two English archers John Strongbow and Athelsten Crossbow, who both showed they could drink ale at the same pace as the barbarians.
The clamour rose higher and higher. The Englishmen and the Norwegian were not too proud to move from their places to join the Nordic warriors, and there a mighty battle of honour commenced, to see who could empty an entire tankard of ale the fastest without removing it from his lips. It appeared that the Norwegian and the Englishmen acquitted themselves well in this Nordic contest. Arn leaned over to his four remaining Frankish-speaking guests and explained that it was good for their honour that at least some of the men from Outremer could do well in this strange competition. As he explained, Nordic men esteemed the ability to drink themselves rapidly senseless almost as much as the ability to handle sword and shield. Why this was so, he could not explain, but merely shrugged his shoulders as if at some mystery that was impossible to comprehend.
When the first man tumbled to the floor, vomiting, the hostess got up with a smile and without exaggerated haste. She took her leave of Sir Arn, whom she kissed on the forehead to his obvious embarrassment, and that of his brother and the Frankish-speaking guests, who by this time were the only ones except for the host and hostess who were in any condition to reply when spoken to.
Sir Arn then poured more wine for the Frankish speakers and explained that they had to remain seated for a while longer, so that it could not be said that those who drank wine had been drunk under the table by those who drank ale. However, after a glance down the longtable he opined that it would all be over within an hour, about the time that the first morning light appeared outside.
As the sun rose over Arnäs and the redwing fell silent, Arn stood alone up in the high tower, daydreaming about the landscape of his childhood. He recalled how he had hunted deer and boar up on Kinnekulle with thralls whose names he now had difficulty remembering. He thought about how he had come riding on a noble stallion named Shimal from Outremer, though the steed was never as close to him as was Khamsiin, and how his father and brother had laughed at the wretched horse that in their eyes was good for nothing.
But most of all he daydreamed about Cecilia. He recalled how the two of them had ridden up Kinnekulle one spring; she had worn a green cloak. It was on that occasion that he intended to declare his love but found himself unable to say anything before Our Lady sent him orders out of the Song of Songs, the words that he had carried in his memory during all the years of war.
Our Lady had in truth listened to his prayers and had taken mercy on his faithfulness; he had never lost hope. Now there was less than a week left of this longing. In two days’ time he would set off on the journey to Näs, where Cecilia might already have arrived, although without knowing he was so near.
He shuddered as if in terror at the thought. His waking dream seemed to have grown too immense, as if he no longer could control it.
Down below him the courtyard was quiet and almost entirely deserted. A few house thralls went about mucking away the vomit. With fir branches they swept up the piss down by the door of the longhouse. Some men came out, puffing and swearing, as they dragged a limp guard whom they would have thought dead but for the fact that he had attended a good feast at Arnäs.
The sun now climbed above the horizon in the east, and naturally the call to prayer came from down in the tent camp.
At first Arn did not react at all, since the call to prayer had so long been a daily sound in his ears that he really did not hear it. But when he looked up toward Kinnekulle and Husaby church, he realized that this must be the first sunrise over Arnäs ever to be greeted in such a manner. He tried to remember where in the Holy Koran the exceptions to the call to prayer were prescribed. Perhaps if one was in a hostile land, if one was at war and the enemy would discern the position of the faithful by the call to prayer?
The situation was somewhat similar now. When everyone moved to Forsvik they could call to prayer whenever they pleased. But if this went on for long at Arnäs it was going to be difficult to give evasive answers or to explain that in the Holy Land the love of God found many inscrutable paths into the human soul. It might also not suffice to say that these men were thralls and therefore could not be counted as enemies, any more than horses and goats.
As soon as the prayers were done, it was time to begin the day’s work. Arn felt his head pounding slightly as he descended the narrow spiral staircase in the tower.
Down in the camp, Arn was not surprised to see that all who had rested for the night in the tents of the faithful were up already, while in the Christians’ tents everyone was still asleep. Some were snoring so thunderously that it was hard to comprehend how their comrades could stand the noise.
All the faithful had rolled up their prayer rugs, and water had been set over the fire to cook the morning’s mocha. The two physicians were the first to see Arn approach, and they stood up at once to wish him God’s peace.
‘God’s peace unto you, Ibrahim Abd al-Malik and Ibrahim Yussuf, you who here in the land of the infidel must be called Abraham and Joseph.’ Arn greeted them with a bow. ‘I hope the food from my home was to your liking.’
‘The lamb was fat and delicious, and the water very cold and fresh,’ replied the older of the two.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Arn. ‘Now it is time to work. Gather the brethren!’
Soon a strange procession of foreign men began walking around the walls of Arnäs, pointing and gesticulating and arguing. They agreed on some things, but other matters had to be investigated further before they could reach a consensus. Accuracy was required to build a fortress that could not be taken by storm by an enemy. The soil around the walls had to be examined with test digs. Much had to be measured and calculated, and the many waterways around Arnäs also had to be measured and inspected closely so that the men could determine the course of the new moats around the walls. The marsh that divided the fortress out on the point from the mainland was a big advantage, and it was important not to drain the area or unintentionally dam it with dikes. Considering the present condition of the soil, it would be impossible to roll up siege towers or catapults to the fortress. All such heavy equipment would sink helplessly into the waterlogged ground. So an important part of the fortress’s defence was provided by nature itself, as He who sees all and hears all had created it.
When Arn thought that he had explained his thoughts and desires sufficiently as to what the master builders would need to test and calculate, he took the two physicians over to his father’s little cookhouse. On the way he stressed to them that here in the North their names were to be Joseph and Abraham and nothing else. They were the same names in both the Bible and in the Holy Koran; only the pronunciation was different. The two physicians nodded that they understood, or at least were resigned to this decision.
As Arn expected, his father was already awake when they entered his chamber. Herr Magnus tried to prop himself up on his healthy elbow, but it was stiff, and Arn hurried over to help him.
‘Take out those foreigners for a minute, I have to piss,’ Herr Magnus said to him in greeting. Arn was so filled with joy at hearing his father speak clearly that he was not bothered by this brusque way of saying good morning. He asked the two physicians to leave the room for a minute, and then found the pisspot and clumsily helped his father attend to his needs.
When it was done he lifted his father over into the chair with the dragon coils and asked the physicians to come back inside. They repeated their examination from the day before and whispered occasionally to Arn. He translated what was said, although he skipped most of the circumlocutions and drawn-out