The Sons of Semiramis - A house of Folkung Kalmar Union

Part 0 – A day in August [1387]

The sun seemed to offer no warmth that day in early August, it’s rays seemingly being blown away by cold winds, unusual for the season. In the fields of southern Scania the peasants were getting to work, as harvest season drew ever closer there could be no rest even on days like this. But there was not one peasant who did not halt his work and look up when the royal entourage passed through the countryside. Knights in shining armour, heralds in colourful dress and two riders in the front carrying the yellow standard of Denmark with it’s three blue lions and the red standard of Norway with it’s axe-wielding beast. It was an impressive sight, but it did not last long, as the party hurried along the road.

Inside her royal carriage, Margaret drew her cloak closer around her, trying to keep warm. She had left Ystad in all haste that morning, even before dawn, now she could only hope that she would not be too late. The journey to Falsterbo usually took atleast two days of riding, but Margaret had insisted that they make it in one. It was therefore no surprise that both horses and riders were more than exhausted when they finally halted outside the stone castle. One rider fell from exhaustion as he tried to get off his horse. Margaret got out of her carriage and hurried up the stairs to the gate. It opened just before she reached the top of the stairs and on the other side appeared a clearly surprised constable.

“My sovereign lady, we had no idea that you would be arriving so soon, if we had known...”

“Where is he? Are we too late?” Margaret interrupted the constable, something she otherwise never did, and spoke to him with a voice filled with just as much authority as if she had been negotiating with an enemy.

“Upstairs in his chambers my Lady, we have been praying day and night for his majesty...” The constable replied hestiantly, clearly having hoped he would not be the bearer of bad news. Margaret again did not let him finish his sentence before she hurried inside the castle and up the stairs. Well upstairs she got to the chamber doors and slowly opened it. Inside the room it was dark and warm, the only source of light being a fireplace since the drapes had been shut closely. In the middle of a room stood a bed and surrounding it were several chamber-pages attending various tasks, but they withdrew as Margaret made her way into the room. Margaret got to the bed and leaned in over it, there she saw a face she so well recognized, but pale and shiny with sweat. It was her beloved son Olaf, King of Denmark and Norway, true heir to Sweden. Margaret had taken him across the straits of Øresund to win him a third crown, but now it looked like he would not even leave with his life. His breathing was troubled, occasionally interrupted by fits of coughing, his eyes were closed and seemed to neither be sleeping nor truly awake. Unsure if he could even hear her, Margaret leaned close to Olaf’s ear and softly whsipered into it. “Do not worry my darling son, I am here now. Rest calmly and know, that I shall be here when you wake up. I shall not leave your side.”

Margaret remained in the room, occasionally wiping the sweat off Olaf’s face or helping him drink a little. At first the pages stayed with her, but as they realized Margaret was determined to help the young King herself they left one by one. A chair was brought in and placed next to the bed, so that Margaret could sit in between what little she could do for Olaf. After a while food and drink was also brought in by a servant, but Margaret did not touch it even as evening turned to night. For hours she remained up, the soft crackling of the fire and her son’s distressed breathing being her only company, but eventually she sank into the chair and drifted into sleep.

She awoke by the sound of birds chirping, not knowing for how long she had been out. For a moment she remained still, enjoying their soothing song. Then she realized that was all she heard. The fire had gone out as she slept and now only a few embers remained, the room was all but pitch black. Carefully Margaret got up and felt her way to the windows, she needed to see. She parted the heavy drapes just enough that a ray of sunlight could make it in and illuminate the room. The sun seemed to just have risen and from the castle window Margaret could now see the birds that had woken her up. They were sitting in a small grove next to the castle, playing innocently in the early morning hours. Margaret braced herself for the worst as she turned around and made it back to the bed. She leaned in over her son as she felt tears beginning to fill her eyes, he was completely still. Margaret fell to her knees, her head on the heavy blankets covering Olaf’s chest, and began to quitly sob. All her work, all her planning and dilligence, how pointless it all felt.

Then Margaret felt something, a slight disturbance. She turned her head and could only stare in disbelief as Olaf began to shuffle himself up to a half-sitting position. Slowly he opened his heavy eyelids and his dark, bloodshot eyes looked down at her. He looked confused and with a weak voice he managed to utter a few words. “I am here, Mother.”

Margaret embraced her son, even as the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. That day, the sun shone a little warmer.

Part 0.5 – Scandinavia in the 14th century [1319-1387]

The 14th century was a tumultuous time in Scandinavia, much as it was in all of Europe. Denmark had suffered a catastrophic first half of the century, with a disastrous succession of weak Kings leading to the entire Kingdom being pawned off to various German counts by 1332, the same year King Christopher II died. His successor Valdemar IV was not even recognized as King of Denmark until 1340, leading the years 1332-1340 to be known as “the kingless time”. From his ascension to the throne until his death, Valdemar managed to reclaim most of the lost Kingdom through a mixture of economic, diplomatic, and military measures. His reign was not entirely successful though, for a time he had to flee Denmark for Germany, during which both the Hansa and his own nobility increased their influence in the Kingdom. The Hanseatic league still controlled many of the strategic trading towns around the Øresund and the Schauenburg Counts of Holstein occupied southern Jutland, better known as Schleswig. In any case though, he left Denmark in a much stronger position than it had been before his reign.


Sweden and Norway were linked in a personal union since 1319 when Magnus Ericsson inherited the Kingdoms, both from his uncles. Magnus was only three upon his coronation and when he reached adulthood in 1332, he bought the Scanian lands that had recently been pawned from Denmark. His realm was large, and his reign looked to be a glorious one, but it was fraught with misfortune. To pay for the Scanian lands he had to borrow money and pawn off Swedish crown lands to both his nobles and foreign lords. Later he launched several crusades against the Orthodox republic of Novgorod in the east, each failing to either convert the Russians or capture new territory for the Swedish crown, and each also adding to the debt Magnus owed to his nobles, the clergy and foreign moneylenders.


The plague hit Scandinavia like it had the rest of Europe in the mid-14th century and was equally devastating in the North as it had been further south. In Denmark, the sudden loss of workforce caused many free peasants to enter contracts with feudal lords, binding them to their lands. While this in the short term was beneficial to the peasants as they could increase their fields, in the long term it would increase the nobility’s grip over them and put them on the road to serfdom. In Norway where much of the population lived densely on the coast and was dependent on maritime trade the disease struck especially hard, within a few years half the population had perished. Royal authority collapsed from the loss of tax income and much of the aristocracy had to join the surviving peasants in the fields to even make a living. In Sweden, the disease was blamed on the King’s sinfulness, prompting him to launch another unsuccessful crusade against Novgorod. Urged on by the mystic and later saint Bridget Birgersdotter, rebellious nobles would soon rise to try and topple Magnus.



The rebellion in Sweden would have major consequences for all of Scandinavia, at first the nobles rallied around Magnus’ younger son Eric, but when he died in 1359, they began looking abroad for a claimant to the throne. This they found in Albert, a Duke of Mecklenburg and son of Magnus’ sister Princess Euphemia of Sweden, making him the King’s nephew. Albert arrived in Sweden with an army of Germans at his side and defeated both Magnus and his son Haakon, who was forced to pull back to Norway and only managed to keep the borderlands of Sweden under his control. Haakon would never surrender his claim to Sweden though, having been hailed as co-regent even in his father’s lifetime. The Swedish nobles intended for Albert to be little more than a figurehead, something Albert would try to subvert time and time again, amongst other means by employing loyal German nobles rather than Swedes, leading him to make enemies with the very people who had put him on the throne.


Haakon VI Magnusson married Margaret, the daughter of Valdemar Atterdag, in 1363. She was only 10 at the time and was raised in Norway by a daughter of Bridget Birgersdotter. Haakon had not wished to marry Margaret, bethrowing her in 1359 but growing distrustful of Valdemar the year after when he seized Scania back from Magnus. The Danes were however adamant that he would go through with the marriage and even seized the ship carrying the bride he wished to marry instead of Margaret, eventually Haakon foiled. Margaret was treated poorly by her husband, when she was pregnant in 1370 she had to write and ask him for such basic things as food and drink because he did not provide enough for her and her staff to sustain themselves. Even so Margaret gave birth to their child, a boy who was named Olaf, late in the year.



The old Kings began to die off, Magnus Eriksson was shipwrecked and drowned in 1374, leaving Haakon as sole ruler of Norway. The year after, Valdemar Atterdag also died and left no direct male heir. A succession crisis was brewing. As Denmark was an elective monarchy, the new King was to be chosen by the nobility, though someone related to the old King was much preferred. The obvious candidate was a certain Albert, a Duke of Mecklenburg, though not the same Duke Albert of Mecklenburg that sat on the Swedish throne. This Albert was the son of Valdemar’s oldest daughter Ingeborg. Fearing to be dominated by Germans again however, the Danish nobility was convinced to elect the only 5-year-old Olaf, with his mother Margaret as regent until he would come of age. Margaret immediately began strengthening her own position on behalf of her son, also having him recognized as rightful King by the Hansa, who didn’t want the Mecklenburgers to grow to strong either. In 1380 Haakon VI died too, and as Norway was a hereditary Kingdom the throne passed to Olaf and joined Denmark and Norway in a personal union.



In Sweden, King Albert’s power was slipping as he more and more became a puppet of his nobility. One Swedish knight, a certain Bo Jonsson of the house of Grip, was especially powerful and was the largest non-royal landowner in Swedish history. Without a doubt he was the true power in Sweden, to the point that many took to directly consulting him rather than King Albert for many matters of the state. He was also a cruel man, known to kill his opponents in the open and rumored to have killed both his first wife and their newborn child to get their inheritance. It was perhaps so that he would be remembered a bit more fondly that upon his death he donated most of his estates to various churches and nobles in Sweden, rather than his own family, though equally likely that he did it to spite Albert. Bo’s wife Margaret Dume went to King Albert to contest the inheritance and Albert who saw this as an opportunity to seize land and power for himself supported her. There would be no solving this issue peacefully, too much land was at stake, and so the Swedish nobility who stood to lose rose in rebellion against Albert.



In perhaps an ironic twist of fate, the Swedish noblemen now looked to Olaf as a replacement for King Albert. The fact that they 25 years prior had supported Albert to overthrow Olaf’s father and grandfather did not seem to bother them at all, and neither did it bother Margaret. What she saw was an excellent chance to further her and her son’s power, she had styled Olaf as “true heir of Sweden” for a long time already. Margaret had proven herself a competent regent during her ten years in power. Firstly, she had made sure that Olaf’s håndfæstning was far more lenient than previous many Kings had been. The håndfæstning is the legal contract each Danish King had to sign with his nobility to be hailed as King, usually promising to guarantee noble privileges, and acting as a check on the King’s power. Through bold and clever diplomacy, she had also managed to get the Hansa to hand back the towns around the Øresund to the Danish crown. Finally, she had made Olaf officially enfeoff Count Gerhard VI of Holstein with the Duchy of Schleswig, but only on strict conditions of him being a loyal vassal to the Danish King. This not only put a lid on the conflict in southern Jutland, but it also provided a useful counterweight against the often rebellious Jutish nobility. With her southern front secured, Margaret could turn her attention to the north, and thus she and Olaf crossed the Øresund into Scania in early 1387…

Part 1 – From Dalaborg to Åsle [1388-1389]

Having survived the awful disease that almost felled him in 1387, Olaf would spend the winter in Scania recovering his strength. By early 1388 he had made a full recovery and together with Margaret they now travelled far into Sweden, to the castle of Dalaborg, to meet with the leaders of the Swedish rebellion against King Albert. There, Olaf took little part of the discussion, but witnessed as his mother convinced the nobles to hail him as King, and her as co-regent for life. In return they would support the rebellious nobles in their struggle against Albert and Olaf signed a contract promising to “right all the wrongs” that his cousin had committed during his time on the throne. Olaf found the formulation extremely vague but understood that this was how his mother wanted it. When he signed it and placed his seal on it, the rebel nobles drew their swords and cried “For St: Eric and King Olaf!”


From that day the rebellion really began, and a combined Danish-Swedish force of roughly 1500 men was gathered and started capturing the castles and towns that remained loyal to Albert. King Albert himself was of course outraged and left Sweden for Mecklenburg with the intent of gathering an army to strike down the rebels. Margaret did not join the forces, since it was not seemly for a woman to do so, but she insisted that Olaf did. This was partly so that Olaf would get some experience of war, partly so that would get to know the men that he would rely on to rule Sweden. But there was also as third reason, which she stated just before Olaf departed from her: “Two crowns have been given to you, now you yourself must win the third, so that you do not grow to think that crowns and scepters come easily, or that you allow it to rest easily upon your head.”

All of summer and early fall the Danish-Swedish soldiers spent taking back territory loyal to Albert but come winter they slowed down. Albert however did no such thing and when he arrived in Kalmar in the dead of winter, he marched straight towards the enemy with the army of roughly 1000 Germans he had been able to gather. Sure, he was impetuous to defeat Olaf, but more than this his army consisted of mercenaries and every day they drained his coffers and ability to sustain his force. It was so that the two forces met each other at the small village of Åsle, near Falköping in Västergötland.


Olaf IV Haakonson, King of Denmark and Norway and true heir to Sweden had never in his life been in a suit of armour. He had of course learned the basics of fighting and riding growing up, but his mother had seen to that his education mainly concerned diplomacy, court etiquette and other peaceful activities. Olaf was therefore quite surprised that the many pieces of mail and plates that had been draped over and strapped to his body in all manner of ways did not weigh him down more. He had quite easily been able to mount his horse and ride it as usual, in fact the thick padding kept him quite warm on this otherwise cold and murky febuary morning. He looked around the various groups of soldiers getting ready and moving into position, everyone seemed to know what to do, was he the only one who had never been to battle before?

The sound of riders approaching interrupted they young King’s thoughts. Looking up, he saw Henry Parow approaching. “Your majesty!” He bellowed, he always bellowed, in his thick German accent. “The enemy draws near, thus I feel obliged to offer you my advice.” Olaf signalled for him to continue, both he and Parow knew that this was a purely symbolic nicety. Mother had given Olaf clear instructions to follow the council that the veteran German gave him, and try to learn something from it. Olaf’s role in the campaign had thus mostly been to hand Parow the letters sent by Mother and to seal those that Parow wrote back, but he was still grateful that Parow upheld the charade of Olaf actually being in command.

Parow continuted. “As I have told you I have fought in many battles, but none do I remember as vividely as the one at Gataskogen. At that time I fought with Albert, yes the very same we face today, against your father and grandfather.” Olaf became worried for a moment, would Parow reveal himself as a traitor? He glanced at the two mounted bodyguards sitting on either flank of him, but since neither of them reached for their swords he calmed himself. This was after all a rebellion, most of the people who now were fighting against Albert had probably at some time fought with him, and Mother trusted Parow. “That battle was lost to your grandfather, because he was captured by the enemy. Therefore I implore you to stay back with the reserve, lest the enemy be given the satisfaction of your capture. Let me and your other devoted knights win the day for you.”

Olaf, who was unsure what was expected of him this day, was honestly relieved by this request. While he so far had found war with all it’s sieges and long marches dreadfully boring, he was not exactly impetious to lead the charge against the enemy either. “Very well Herr Henry, I shall stay back with our reserves and join you if you need us.” Parow bowed in his saddle as best in could before returning to the gathering soldiers. Olaf could not help but think that he saw him grinning under his beard and helmet as he turned. It was understandable he supposed. To the old veteran the thought of him being saved by a youngster like Olaf was probably quite entertaining, like a sheep saving the shepherd from a wolf.


From his elevated position Olaf had quite a good view of the field where his forces were gathering, and of the other side where cousin Albert’s were. Parow had tactically placed their forces so that they were flanked by steep hills on one side and swampy ground on the other. Olaf’s forces seemed larger in numbers, but Albert’s was mostly mounted and there were quite a few names of infamous German knights amongst it. Olaf hoped Parow knew what he was doing, but instinctively looked over his shoulder as if to check for an escape route. As if they had seen his apparent lack of nerves, there was suddenly a blaring of horns from the Mecklenburger force. The whole line began to advance, seemingly tired of waiting around.

At first they seemed like an unstoppable wave sweeping over the field, but as they closed in they slowed down. Olaf watched in disbelief as their lines became unorganized, the ground must have been softer than they anticipated even in the centre, as the heavily armoured knights and men-at-arms got stuck in it. Then Parow had his own horns sound the counterattack. Isolated and stuck, Mecklenburger knights and riders were surrounded and pulled off their horses, while their desperate infantry hurried to move up to support them. On the narrow strip of land that wasn’t so soft Olaf could see a group of Mecklenburger riders were advancing, nearing in on the engaged flank of Parow’s forces. Next to Olaf sat on his horse the Swedish knight Erik Kettilsson. “Your majesty, we must counterattack! Give the order or the battle could be lost here and now!” Olaf hesitated, but then steeled himself, he had hoped not to have to fight personally but he had to do this. Mother was counting on him.

He gave the signal.

Horns blazing and under the battlecries of the knights surrounding him, Olaf rode down the hillside, with his visor down he could hardely breathe or see, but somehow he continued forward. He grabbed the reins of his horse with one hand and clumsily pointed his sword towards the enemy with the other. From the small eye-slits he could see the red serpent of the knight Heyne Snakenborg approaching, the clash would happen any minute now. Then, as if a mighty wind suddenly blew against them, the Mecklenburger riders halted, some of their horses reared and then they turned. He could not believe it, they were retreating before him! Feeling stronger than ever before, Olaf lent his own voice to the battlecry as they chased the enemy far away.


Though the battle had been over in what seemed like an instant, the aftermath just dragged on and on. Dead and wounded needed to be pulled out from the soft ground and the last pockets of resistance needed to be pacified. Olaf himself didn’t partake in this, he was inspecting the fallen knights. There was at least twenty of Albert’s, while only eight of his own, amongst them Henry Parow. No one could say what enemy or what weapon had struck him down, neither when in the battle it had happened, but Olaf felt especially guilty for his demise, as if he had swung the sword himself. Though Parow had been loud and obnoxious, he had been an honourable man, and something of a mentor to Olaf during these awful months of campaigning. Seeing him lay there, more quiet than he had ever been in life, Olaf realized he would miss his stories, however boasting and exaggerated they may have been.

But there was no time for sorrow or contemplation, because after the dead had been inspected he was to meet the captives, for amongst them was one of particular interest. “Hello cousin.” Olaf greeted, as he approached Albert of Mecklenburg, King of Sweden and now prisoner of Olaf. “We meet at last.”

Part 2 – Eriksgata [1390-1396]

Six years. Six years Albert had been stuck in this damn castle, a prisoner in his own Kingdom. All because of one day of bad luck. At first he hadn’t been to concerned, sure his ability to personally fight for his crown had been limited, but his friends and family in Germany had come to his help just as he expected. Albert’s chief source of entertainment during these long years of imprisonment had been reading again and again the reports of towns and castles being raided by the good men of the Victual Brothers. Malmø, Bergen, Åbo and Gotland, just a few places that had fallen to them. “Pirates” they called them, ha! The only criminal in this war was Albert’s aunt and cousin, the puppeteer Margaret and the little brat Olaf. Already an usurper in Denmark he thought he could steal Sweden too?

Well so thought Albert’s own noblemen it seemed, it was after all they who had rebelled in the first place when they tried to steal the inheritance of Bo Jonsson, which clearly belonged to the late drots’ children and the crown. Margaret Dume, Bo’s widow, had come herself to Albert and asked for his help. What knight would he have been if he did not come to the help of a damsel in distress?

Never the less, it seemed like the dragon may triumph over the knight this time. For last year even Lady Dume had abandoned Albert and made her peace with Margaret. The reports of Victual raids had also become less and less frequent and instead were replaced by ones of Hanseatic fleets thwarthing them. The only good news seemed to be that Stockholm was still holding out and he would use that fact to his advantage. That’s why he again was sitting at the negotiation table, determined to come to a solution today. The terms that they had come to, after many hours of sometimes loud discussion, seemed if not fair then atleast acceptable. Albert would be allowed to return to Mecklenburg and have three years to pay 60 000 marks to Margaret, or Stockholm would have to be given up to her. While the contract consistently referred to Olaf as “King of Sweden” and Albert símply as “Herr Albert” it did not specifically forbid Albert to use the royal title. All in all, though it was unreasonable that Albert should have to make peace at all, he could atleast comfort himself that it was not as humiliating as he knew Margaret would have liked it.

Everyone in the room stared tensly as Albert raised the quill, put it to the parchement and lightly scratched down his name, before attatching his personal seal to the document. Then all the heralds and courtiers ran out of the room, quickly making it to the horses waiting in the castle courtyard and set out in all directions to tell the message: peace had finally come!


With the peace came a time of celebration and one for healing, there was to be reconcilliation between the former struggling factions within Sweden. And of course, they had to crown their new King. In the late fall of 1395, men from all over Sweden gathered at the ancient meadow of Mora, where Kings of Sweden had been hailed since time immemorable. The now 24 year old Olaf and his mother naturally also made it there. Olaf had been called King by the rebellious nobles since 1388, but now he would finaly be hailed as such by all of Sweden.

Olaf could not remember when he had last been so tired. The night before had been filled with the noise of feasting and toasts to his health, the health of his mother and to no German ever sitting on the throne of Sweden again. But that had not been what kept him up, no he had sat in his tent all alone and gone over what he was going to do today again and again. Given how unprepared he felt now, he might as well have tried to get some sleep instead. Riding between two large crowds of cheering nobles, clergymen and peasants alike he did his best to look dignified and royal as he made his way to the huge slab of stone in the middle of the field.

The stone was rather rough looking Olaf thought. When he’d first heard of the ancient stones of Mora where all Kings of Sweden were chosen, he’d imagined something a bit more, well, grand. Perhaps a marble platform surrounded by pillars and statues, situated in an impressive temple-like structure, not just a great slab of granite in a field. But it was tradition he supposed, and tradition was something that had to be respected. As Olaf got closer to the stone he realized just how large it really was, he wouldn’t easily be able to ascend it without great difficulty, which surely would make him look like a fool. Olaf was thus relieved when he saw two servants placing a stepladder at it’s base. It did make him wonder if this had been an issue for all previous Kings, perhaps people were taller in ancient days?

As he got of his horse and began ascending the stairs, Olaf noticed the many smaller stones placed around the large central one. One was placed, he understood, everytime a King was crowned. Some were so old that they were covered in moss and had the same strange runes engraved on them as the main stone. Olaf had no idea how to read them but he did wonder what names were hidden behind them. Glancing over them he saw the newest one, Albert’s stone, with the bull’s head of Mecklenburg carved into it. In a sense Olaf wished that it would be removed, but on the other hand standing above it now did give him a certain sense of triumph.


From his position on the stone, Olaf looked out at the crowd and immediately began to feel overwhelmed. He had held speeches before crowds before, but never one as large as this, and never as critical as this one. If they did not like what he said, Olaf had been told, they could depose him as King here and now. Then all the work he and mother had done these last seven years, and that had nearly cost him his life, would be for naught. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Olaf began to feel faint. He looked down, his previous feeling of triumph suddenly replaced by one of defeat. Would his own mouth defeat him now, in what should be his moment of victory?

But then, looking down, he saw the stone next to Albert’s. On it was carved the axe-wielding lion of Norway and the Folkung lion of Sweden. The stone must be the one which had been placed for his father, years before Albert snatched the throne. Suddenly Olaf realized that he had nothing to fear, this was in his blood. He didn’t feel alone on that great rock anymore. Surrounding him was his father’s spirit, and his grandfather, and generations of his ancestors, who all had claimed their birthright on this very stone. He felt better now, his head was clear and he knew exactly what to say. The crowd cheered as he promised peace, prosperity and the end of German domination in the north. For the first time in his life, Olaf truly felt like the monarch he was.


Even as Olaf was hailed by the crowds and embarked upon his Eriksgata, the traditional journey where the newly elected King received oaths of loyalty from the locals, Margaret got to work behind the scene. While in Upsala, Olaf did not only have the crown of Sweden placed upon his head by the Archbishop. Margaret also arranged for Olaf to be married there. His bride was to be Margaret Bosdotter Grip, daughter of the late Bo Jonsson Grip who’s death had started the whole rebellion against Albert. Part of the peace between Bo’s widow Margaret Dume and Olaf’s mother Margaret had been the engagement between their children. This was to be a foreshadowing of what plans Margaret had for Bo’s inheritance...

As the Eriksgata continued, a meeting in Nyköping was held between Margaret and the most powerful nobles in Sweden. Through her mastery of diplomacy she made them agree to return much of the land that had been handed out by Albert, in large part the land that Bo had not desired to fall in the hands of the King. In the negotiations she ironically used some of the same arguments that Lady Dume had before her, now that Olaf was married to Bo’s daughter. Perhaps more important than this was the decision that a new meeting should be held. All the Kingdoms of the North was to have a single lord and King, and so it was scheduled for the summer of next year that a meeting was to be held in a town in south Sweden, the town of Kalmar.