At that point Cecilia Rosa thought of speaking about the topic that could not be ignored. But before she could say anything, Cecilia Blanca began recounting with shining eyes and little laughs how things had fared for little Ulvhilde—well, she wasn’t so little anymore, since she was expecting her first child.
Just as Cecilia Blanca had supposed, the eldest son at Ulfshem, Folke, was not to Ulvhilde’s taste at all, despite the fact that he was the one who at first had tried to court her. His aggressive manner had, as one might imagine, only destroyed his chances, but soon Ulvhilde had become more interested in the younger son, Jon. And since Jon could not impress Ulvhilde by waving about a sword and bow, he talked more about how a country must be built by laws, and other such things he had learned. He could also sing beautifully, and so it wasn’t difficult to imagine how things would go. Their bridal ale would take place soon, which was fortunate considering that she was already expecting their first child.
At that news Cecilia Rosa had been more shocked than happy. Because expecting a child before the bridal ale was celebrated and the bedding completed, could cost young people dearly. She herself knew more about this harsh truth than did most others.
But Cecilia Rosa brushed aside her concern at once. These were new times. Whoever was to become archbishop would probably not want to make his first decision the excommunication of someone who had the protection of the king and the jarl. So Ulvhilde’s minor sin would soon be blessed by God, and nothing more would be heard of it. She was very happy, their little friend, and freedom had embraced her with open arms.
Relieved to hear that Ulvhilde didn’t seem to be in the danger Cecilia Rosa had at first imagined, she finally held up both hands to stop her friend’s happy chatter and tell her the truth. She brought ominous tidings from Gudhem. Cecilia Blanca fell silent at once.
But they got off to a bad start. For when Cecilia Rosa took a deep breath and started by reporting solemnly that Mother Rikissa was now dead and buried, Cecilia Blanca clapped her hands and burst out in delighted laughter. Then she promptly crossed herself and raised her eyes heavenward, praying for forgiveness since it was a sin to rejoice at someone else’s death. Afterward she regained her cheerful demeanor and said that this was certainly not bad news.
Cecilia Rosa had to start over. But she didn’t get very far into her story of the false confession and the abbess’s testament that was supposed to be sent to Rome before Cecilia Blanca turned serious.
When Cecilia Rosa finished her account, they sat for a moment in silence. Because what was there actually to say about the lie itself? It was absurd to think that any unfortunate maiden who had been forced under Rikissa’s scourge at Gudhem would consider taking her vows at that particular convent. It was even more unreasonable to expect that Cecilia Blanca, who had always longed to escape and return to her betrothed and her queen’s crown, would renounce her own future and instead become Rikissa’s slave. It was like saying that birds flew in water and fish swam in the sky.
They interrupted the conversation so that Cecilia Blanca could take her friend to say hello to her children before they continued their night together. They knew it would be a long one.
The queen’s eldest son Erik was with his father up in Östra Aros, since he had much to learn about matters that were a king’s concern. The other two sons and the daughter Brigida were fighting so wildly over a wooden horse that the maidservant couldn’t stop them. When the two Cecilias came in, the children calmed down at once, but they stared with some amusement at Cecilia Rosa’s odd clothing. After evening prayers the two Cecilias amazed the children by singing together a hymn that was lovelier than any ever sung at Näs. They evidently hadn’t expected to hear such a heavenly song from their mother. They went to bed without a fuss, chirping with delight about this new song of their mother’s.
As the two friends headed back to the fireplace, where more mulled wine awaited them, Cecilia Blanca explained in embarrassment that she hadn’t done much singing during her freedom, because she thought she’d had enough of it at Gudhem. But when they sang together it was different; then she remembered their dear friendship instead of the chill mornings at dawn when, groggy with sleep, they would stumble across the cold floor to the miserable lauds.
When they sat once again by the cozy fire, with no hostile ears to hear them and with wine in their hands, it was time to try and make sense of the situation.
Cecilia Blanca began by saying that Rikissa’s intention was to make the Holy Father in Rome declare that King Knut of Western Götaland, Eastern Götaland, and Svealand, and the archbishopric of Östra Aros, was living in whoredom. That meant that little jarl Erik had been conceived in whoredom and could not inherit the crown, nor could any of her other sons.
It was no surprise that Rikissa wanted to send this message directly to the Holy Father in Rome. Nor that the message should go via Denmark, where the Sverkers had all their exiled kinsmen and where many of them had married close relatives of the king. The fire and the war that Rikissa had predicted on her deathbed was thus the war when the Sverkers would return to seize the king’s crown. That was how Rikissa had imagined the outcome.
But her entire calculation was built upon a lie, Cecilia Rosa argued. What was written in her testament was not true. How such a document might be read in Rome was one matter, but when it was presented before a Swedish archbishop, the matter would be cast in a different light.
They now fell to brooding over whether the lie might actually prevail. They found it easier to understand the fact that Rikissa had given her soul to get revenge, even if it was a terrifying thought that any person could be so evil as to condemn herself to the eternal fire for the sake of revenge.
She probably looked on it as a sacrifice, Cecilia Rosa said; she sacrificed her soul to save her kinsmen. Like a mother or father who would give up their own lives for their child. The Cecilias could shudder at what Rikissa had done, but also understand it, especially since they’d had the misfortune to observe firsthand the evil ways of Rikissa during her earthly life.
It was as if they suddenly felt a chill despite the warmth of the log fire. Cecilia Blanca got up, went over to her friend, kissed her, adjusted the pelts around her, and then went to arrange for some more wine.
When she came back, they tried to free themselves of Rikissa’s evil spirit in the room. They consoled each other that at least they’d learned the news in good time, and that Birger Brosa would certainly be able to make use of this information. Then they tried to talk about other things.
Cecilia Rosa wondered a bit about Ulvhilde. She had hardly managed to set foot outside Gudhem before she was on the way to the bridal bed. She had even tried out that bed. Was this really a good thing? In her innocence hadn’t she been delivered up like a lamb? She had only known two noblemen in her life of freedom, and now she was going to share the bed and position of one of them. Was that really such a good idea?
Cecilia Blanca thought that it was. She knew Jon, after all, and she had been quite sure that things would go the way they did, because she also knew Ulvhilde. Naturally it was a good union between Sverkers and Folkungs that no one could fault, but that was only one side of the matter. The other thing to take into account was that certain people seemed to be made for each other. Surely Cecilia Rosa and Arn had been like that. So it might well be the same for Ulvhilde and Jon Sigurdson. Cecilia Rosa would soon see for herself, because she had decided that at Christmas they would all get together for a big Christmas feast at Näs.