It had been a great nuisance that the Sverkers held most of the cloisters, and until now all the convents in the country, he began. Such an arrangement could not be allowed to stand; therefore he had endowed a new convent that would soon be consecrated. It was called Riseberga and was situated in the forest of Nordanskog northeast of Arnäs, in darkest Svealand. But they shouldn’t worry too much about that, he quickly added when he saw his listeners grimace at the word Svealand. Now they were on their way to becoming a unified kingdom under King Knut. The important thing for the clans was to act together, marry each other, and if necessary go into cloisters together rather than attempt to wage war with each other. The latter course had been tried since time immemorial without success.
Riseberga convent would soon be open, but two things were still lacking. One was an abbess of either the Erik or Folkung clan, and at the moment they were searching through the nuns of the land high and low to find someone suitable. If that proved unsuccessful, they would have to take a novice, but it was preferable for the abbess to be a nun who had already taken her vows, someone who was well versed in everything that needed to be done in a convent.
The second thing they needed was a good yconomus. Birger Brosa had heard from many quarters that Gudhem managed its business affairs better than all the convents in the land, and the one who took care of these affairs was not a man, however difficult that might be to believe.
Here he was interrupted by the two Cecilias, both sounding resentful. One thought that she had informed her jarl of this long ago, and one thought that the yconomusthey’d had previously at Gudhem may indeed have been a man but he was a fool.
Feigning alarm, Birger Brosa retreated behind his ale tankard before explaining with charming merriment that he was well aware of the situation; he simply liked to jest. But back to serious matters, he wanted Cecilia Rosa to take on the position as yconomusat Riseberga cloister.
Yconoma, Cecilia Rosa corrected him, pretending her feelings were hurt.
The only problem, Birger Brosa went on, was that it would take time before he could get Cecilia Rosa out of Gudhem and arrange for her to be driven up to Riseberga. A letter had to be signed and sealed by the archbishop, and other details had to be arranged. Meanwhile Cecilia Rosa would be alone with Rikissa at Gudhem, without friends or witnesses, and that thought did not sit easy with them.
Cecilia Rosa agreed with his assessment. If Mother Rikissa understood that she would soon be forced to take care of Gudhem’s affairs on her own, she might resort to any manner of conniving. There was no limit to that woman’s evil.
But if the abbess didn’t know what was in the works, then her desire to keep the cloister’s affairs in order would probably be stronger than to try new tricks with the horsehair, confessions, and feigned weeping. Especially so soon after the failed attempt she had just made. Right now she was probably in bed, without the horsehair, to be sure, gnashing her teeth with hatred.
Ulvhilde was convinced that Mother Rikissa actually used witchcraft, that she could rob a person of her will and make her confess to anything at all, as if it were God’s intention and not the Devil’s. Against such sorcery there was no protection; Ulvhilde had found that out herself when despite everything she had been close to yielding to Mother Rikissa’s evil persuasion.
Cecilia Blanca interrupted her to say that this was something that could be easily resolved. What Cecilia Rosa should do was to wait a few days, then seek out Rikissa alone and pretend to forgive her. She should pray with the abbess a few times and thank God that He had forgiven His sinful Rikissa.
Naturally that would be to lie and dissemble before God. But God must be wise enough to see the necessity of this sacrifice. Cecilia Rosa could later pray for grace once she was alone with God up in Riseberga.
Furthermore, Cecilia Blanca went on, Birger Brosa must keep secret his plans for bringing an yconomato Riseberga; even better, she should get someone else to spread false rumors about the matter. Anything at all was permissible in the fight with the Devil.
The result of such carefully planned smoke screens would be that one day a convoy would come and fetch Cecilia Rosa with no advance notice whatsoever. Cecilia Rosa must then walk straight out through the gate, just as she herself and Ulvhilde had done, without even saying goodbye. And the witch would be left helpless to intervene.
They all found Cecilia Blanca’s suggestions to be wise. And so it was decided. Surely that was also God’s will. For why should He want to punish Cecilia Rosa more, and why should He want to help Rikissa in her evil?
It wasn’t God who helped Mother Rikissa, it was someone else, Cecilia Rosa said pensively. But she would pray to Our Lady for protection every night. Since Our Lady had protected both her and her beloved Arn for so many years, surely She would continue to do so now.
When young Ulvhilde Emundsdotter rode out from Gudhem to her new life in freedom, it was just before Olsmas. That was the time between the old and the new harvests, so barns and storehouses were empty but hay-making was in full swing.
She rode together with the queen, at the head of the procession and just behind the jarl and the riders who carried flags with the Folkung lion and the three crowns. Behind the queen and Ulvhilde followed a strong contingent of more than thirty men on horseback who mostly wore blue, even though Ulvhilde was not alone with her red mantle.
Wherever the retinue passed on the road to Skara, all work stopped in the fields and men and women would come over to the side of the road, kneel down, and pray God to preserve the peace, the jarl, and Queen Cecilia Blanca.
Ulvhilde had not been on a horse since she was a child. Even though it was said that riding was something that anyone could do, because it was God’s plan that the animals should serve humanity, she soon found that riding was not the most pleasant way to travel for the one who was in the saddle. The whole time she had to keep squirming to try and change position; the blood would stop flowing in her leg or her knee chafed against the saddle. As a child she had ridden in a normal saddle with one leg on each side of the horse, but now she and Cecilia Blanca rode as was proper for highborn women with both legs on the same side of the horse. It was both more difficult and more painful.
And yet the nuisance of the saddle was a minor annoyance that was mostly blocked by all her other senses. The air was cool and delightful to breathe, and Ulvhilde kept filling her lungs and holding her breath, as if she didn’t want to exhale the sensation of freedom.
They rode across fields and through oak forests, past many rivers and glittering streams, until they came up onto Billingen Mountain. There the forest grew denser and the ranks of soldiers were rearranged so that half of the men rode on ahead, in front of the jarl and the queen. There was nothing to worry about, Cecilia Blanca explained to Ulvhilde. There had been peace in the land for a long time, but men always liked to behave as though they were expecting to have to draw their swords.
The forest did not look very threatening in Ulvhilde’s eyes; it was mostly tall oaks and beeches, and the light filtered down in shimmering colors through the high crowns of the trees. They saw some deer in the distance, moving cautiously away among the trees.
Ulvhilde never could have imagined that the world outside would be so beautiful and inviting. She was twenty-two years old now, a woman in the prime of life who long ago should have had children—something that she had believed she would never have the chance to do, since she had viewed her life as staying in the convent until the end of the road.