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The image that they all admired was intended to sit above the doorway of the church; it showed the Lord Jesus giving to Saint Peter the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven and handing to Saint Paul the book with which he was to spread the Christian teaching all over the world. Above Lord Jesus’s head there was a Templar cross and a text carved in good Latin which read: ‘This church is consecrated to Our Lord Jesus Christ and the Holy Sepulchre.’

Both the picture and the text were meant to inspire devotion in the onlooker. It was as though they were looking at the very moment itself, though it never could have taken place in the realm of the senses. But for God, time and space did not exist; He was everywhere at the same time, so the image was just as true as it was beautiful. Arn felt a great emotion in his breast, almost a trembling sensation, at being granted the grace to be involved in building this church dedicated to His Grave. Even though the construction of the church itself had a long way to go, this image was a portent of what was to come.

But the image that stunned Arn and made him feel alternately ashamed and incensed, showed the Lord Jesus accepting the keys to the church from a knight and then blessing the church with his right hand; a stonecutter sat nearby, bent over with a hammer and chisel as he worked on the church. It was obviously supposed to represent Arn giving the church to God, while Marcellus built it. It was not outright blasphemy, but it was an unreasonable way to boast of his deed.

Marcellus took a lighter view of his sculpture. He thought it merely expressed a worldly truth and a good example for human beings. For a thousand years rapturous observers would see how Arn, a Templar knight, had donated this church. Wasn’t that precisely the thought that should be expressed by dedicating the church to God’s Grave? Instead of seeking out God’s Grave in war and death in the Holy Land, true believers should seek it out in their own hearts. They had discussed this the first time they met and concluded their agreement in Skara.

Arn did not remember exactly, but he thought that exalting himself in an image standing next to the Lord Jesus was sheer pride, and that was a grave sin.

Marcellus said again that there was no pride in saying that Arn Magnusson built this church and dedicated it to God’s Grave. That was simply the truth.

Arn was glad that there was plenty of time to change things before the church would be finished and consecrated.

The travellers stopped at Arnäs for only one day, mostly because Arn wanted to walk all the way around the fortifications and examine all the details. Everything to do with the outer defences of the castle was finished. From now on they could spend as many years as they liked on the inner defences and household comforts rather than war. The residence, which was three stories high and built of stone, was almost done; they would be able to move in this winter. All that was left to build were the big storehouses for grain, dried fish, and fodder for the horses and livestock; enough to withstand a long siege. The rest were simpler tasks for which the most skilled builders in the world were no longer needed. The outer walls, towers, gates, and drawbridges were ready. That was the important thing. At Forsvik the work on the thick chains for the drawbridges and portcullises had just been completed.

The old tower keep at Arnäs had now become an armoury for the storage of weapons and valuables. In the high chamber there were several rows of wooden casks stuffed full of more than ten thousand arrows; the chamber below held crossbows, swords, and lances. Even now Arnäs was ready to resist a siege from a very strong foe. But as it looked at the moment, no war was on the horizon, so there was plenty of time to finish up everything they had planned. Soon Arnäs would be an impregnable fortress where many hundreds of Folkungs could seek shelter, regardless of who was threatening outside the walls.

Torgils, who had not been home to Arnäs since Christmas, decided to stay for a few days with his father Eskil, and Arn’s party then set off toward Forsvik. They left at the crack of dawn in order to complete their journey in a single day instead of spending the night at Askeberga.

When they neared Forsvik that evening, the alarm was rung on the big bell, and within moments all the young men and grooms stormed out towards the horses. When Arn and Cecilia and their party rode into Forsvik, three squadrons stood lining the main street. Bengt Elinsson, who was the only commander left at Forsvik, had positioned his horse three paces in front of the others. He first drew his sword, and then the others did the same, and that was how they greeted Sir Arn and Fru Cecilia’s return.

Arn rode up to Bengt, thanked him briefly, took over command, and ordered all the young men to return to whatever they were doing before the alarm sounded.

The following days at Forsvik were heavy with the bittersweet sorrow of parting. The five years for which Arn had hired his Saracen men were now over. Those who wanted to leave would do so soon, for the big ship with dried fish from Lofoten was expected in Lödöse. With that ship those returning home would sail to Björgvin, the largest city on the west coast of Norway. From there ships went constantly to Lisboa in Portugal, and then they would be almost in the lands of the faithful.

Only half of the foreigners wanted to return home. Among them were the two physicians Ibrahim and Yussuf, who were sure that their services would prove much more useful in the Almohad Empire in Andalusia. The two Englishmen John and Athelsten also wanted to leave, but for them it was easier, since ships occasionally sailed between Lödöse and England, where Eskil had in recent years begun to expand his trade routes.

Half of the builders who worked on Arnäs would travel the same way as Ibrahim and Yussuf; they found it difficult to live with the true faith in a land whose very existence God seemed to have forgotten. The other half of the builders perhaps had a more forgiving view of God’s memory, although their decision to stay was probably due to the fact that many of them, like Ardous from Al Khalil, already had a wife and children.

The two feltmakers Aibar and Bulent were also unwilling to leave. They knew they could get from Björgvin to Lisboa, but from there it was an unfathomably long journey to Anatolia. Besides, their home villages had long since been burned and laid waste by both Christians and the faithful. They no longer had any other home.

The brothers Jacob and Marcus Wachtian had long since begun to adopt Nordic customs; both had been speaking the local language fluently for quite a while.

Surprisingly, Jacob had also come back from one of his trips to Lübeck with a wife to whom he claimed to be lawfully wedded before God. Her name was Gretel, and she was rumoured to have been deserted by her betrothed in Lübeck on the very day of their wedding. But she found swift consolation in the arms of the foreign Armenian merchant Jacob. There was something not quite credible about that story, but no one at Forsvik found any reason to argue. For Jacob’s part it would be unthinkable to leave. His Gretel refused to return to her own country for some reason; nor did she want to go to Armenia, and besides, she was expecting a child.

Marcus had no desire to travel alone. He had no woman to amuse himself with as his brother did, which he furtively pointed out to Arn from time to time, but life at Forsvik was good. And it was a delight to invent new ways to use water power, or build new weapons or tools for their work. Although with a woman it would certainly be easier.

Arn decided to accompany the faithful and the Englishmen to Lödöse so that no harm would come to them on their last journey through the land of the infidels. He reckoned that the faithful would be safe as soon as they boarded the ship for Björgvin, and he had no qualms about leaving the Englishmen to themselves in Lödöse.