The king himself had come down to the beach to receive his queen and his jarl along with, as he only now seemed to remember, his young Sverker guest.

He first greeted his jarl and his queen with all the courtliness that could be desired. Then he turned to Ulvhilde and looked thoughtfully at the young woman. Full of trepidation and shyness she lowered her gaze. What he saw, however, was instantly to his liking, which surprised everyone except his wife. He took a step toward Ulvhilde, placed his hand under her chin to tip up her face, and looked at her with an expression that was far removed from hatred. It was clear to everyone that he was pleased by what he saw.

But his words of greeting to Ulvhilde surprised even Birger Brosa.

“We bid you welcome to our castle, Ulvhilde Emundsdotter. What was once between us and your father is now buried, because that was war and now we have peace. So you should know that it is a joy for us to greet you as the mistress of Ulfshem. You are safe among friends here as our guest.”

His gaze lingered on Ulvhilde before he suddenly offered her his arm and then took the queen under his other arm. He then escorted them both past all the others up toward the castle.

Ulvhilde’s time at Näs was brief, but for her it felt long because there were a thousand details she had to learn regarding matters about which she had not the slightest knowledge. Eating was not just eating, but a pastime as full of rules as at Gudhem, although these new rules called for the opposite sort of behavior. The same was true of speaking and greeting people. At Gudhem Ulvhilde had learned never to speak unless spoken to and always to be the first to greet someone. Here at Näs it was just the opposite, except when it came to the king, the queen, and the jarl. So there was much embarrassment associated with such seemingly trivial things. Ulvhilde created a stir the first days when she offered a friendly greeting to stable boys and roast-turners as well as the queen’s chambermaids before they greeted her. Even more difficult was learning to be first to speak, since it seemed to be an ingrained habit to wait with bowed head until she was addressed.

Freedom was not merely something that existed like air and water. It was something one had to learn.

During this time Cecilia Blanca often thought of a swallow she had found as a girl at home in the courtyard of her father’s farm. The swallow lay on the ground chirping pitifully when Cecilia Blanca picked it up, but quieting down when she warmed it between her cupped hands. She placed the swallow in a birchbark box which she lined with the softest wool, and for two nights she slept with the little bird beside her. On the second morning she got up early, carried the bird out to the courtyard and flung it straight up in the air. With a sharp cry to greet its newfound freedom the bird instantly flew high up toward the sky and disappeared. She had never understood why she knew how to make the bird fly again, she had simply sensed it was the right thing to do.

In a similar manner she now looked at Ulvhilde, who unlike herself and Cecilia Rosa had come to Gudhem as a child rather than a maiden; she couldn’t have been older than eleven. So all the rules of the evil convent world had permeated her mind so completely, that out in the free world she was as helpless as the swallow on the ground. She didn’t even understand that she was beautiful. Ulvhilde belonged to the side of the Sverker clan of which Kol and Boleslav were chieftains; women and maidens on that side of the clan often looked like Ulvhilde, with black hair and brown eyes, slightly slanted. But Ulvhilde was unaware of her own beauty.

Cecilia Blanca had not mentioned the current situation at Ulfshem, whence she would soon accompany Ulvhilde despite the fact that the king grumbled about the journey. But leaving Ulvhilde alone in the clutches of a Folkung who was going to be evicted along with his two lustful sons was out of the question. She knew the two men slightly. The older son was named Folke, and he was of such a hot temper that it would undoubtedly shorten his life; his tongue could prove the bane of his existence. The younger son’s name was Jon, and he had gone to school with his kinsman Torgny Lagman. He was soft-spoken in a way that indicated things hadn’t been easy for him as the younger brother of a future soldier. Folke, as brothers will do, had practiced much of his fighting skills on his younger and weaker brother.

Cecilia Blanca pondered what would happen to a woman who was as beautiful and rich as Ulvhilde, and yet so innocent, when she landed among men who wanted to possess her for more than two reasons. Wouldn’t it be like releasing a lamb to the wolves at Ulfshem?

Cautiously the queen attempted to speak with Ulvhilde about what she might expect. She insisted that they ride together every day, for no matter how much Ulvhilde complained of her sore buttocks, she had to be able to ride a horse. During their rides Cecilia Blanca tried to revive the conversations the three of them had had at Gudhem when they occasionally touched on the love that Cecilia Rosa felt for her Arn, or when they had made plans to rescue Sister Leonore and the monk Lucien. But it was as if Ulvhilde shrunk from such conversations in fright, pretending to be more interested in saddles and the various gaits of horses than in love and men.

She seemed more receptive when together they spent an enjoyable time each day with Cecilia Blanca’s two sons, who were now five and three years old. The love between mother and child seemed to interest Ulvhilde considerably more than that between man and woman, although of course the first could not exist without the latter.

Just after Larsmas, when the hay-making was over in both Western and Eastern Götaland, Cecilia Blanca and Ulvhilde rode up to Ulfshem with some retainers. They sailed with the Norsemen up to Alvastra, and from there they rode along the great highway toward Bjälbo and further toward Linköping, where they would find Ulfshem halfway in between.

Ulvhilde had grown more accustomed to the saddle and didn’t complain much, although it was a two-day ride. The closer they came to Ulfshem, the more silent and self-conscious she seemed to become.

When they spied the estate Ulvhilde recognized it at once, since the new buildings had been built exactly where the old ones had stood and were of similar design. The huge ash trees on the property were the same as during her childhood, but many other things seemed smaller than she remembered.

They were expected, of course, because a queen did not pay a visit without sending word in advance. When their retinue came within sight there was suddenly a great deal of activity at Ulfshem; servants, guards, and slaves lined up in the courtyard to receive and greet them, bringing out the first bread to break with the guests before they came inside.

Cecilia Blanca was a sharp-eyed woman. She saw at once what most people would have seen sooner or later, with the possible exception of the innocent Ulvhilde. Herr Sigurd Folkesson and his two sons Folke and Jon, who stood beside him, seemed to Cecilia Blanca’s eyes to transform the closer she and Ulvhilde came to the courtyard.

If the Folkungs from a distance had looked unwilling or almost hostile in their bearing, they now tempered their stance and made an effort not to show their astonishment when they saw Ulvhilde wearing the magnificent mantle of their enemies as she climbed down from her horse.

Herr Sigurd and his eldest son Folke hurried over to assist Cecilia Blanca and Ulvhilde as they dismounted to receive the welcoming bread.

Even though Sigurd and his sons would be richly compensated and would be able to acquire estates larger than Ulfshem for some of the silver which Birger Brosa had looted during his crusade, there was still the matter of honor. No one could think that it was honorable for Folkungs to have to move for the sake of a pitiful little maiden from the Sverker clan.