Kristin Lavransdatter Part 14

She always felt a pang in her heart that he should be so terrified that she might be carrying a child, when they couldn't seem to stay away from each other. So anxious was she feeling that evening that she said as much to him, quite angrily. Erlend's face turned dark red; he lay his head on her shoulder.

"You're right," he said. "I should try to leave you alone, Kristin, and not keep testing your luck in this way. If you want me to . . ."

She threw her arms around him and laughed, but he clasped her tightly around the waist and pressed her down onto a bench; then he sat down on the other side of the table. When she reached her hand across to him, he impetuously kissed her palm.

"I've been trying harder than you have," he said fiercely. "If you only knew how important I think it is for both of us that we be married with full honor."

"Then you should not have taken me," said Kristin.

Erlend hid his face in his hands.

"No, I wish to G.o.d that I hadn't done you this wrong," he said.

"Neither one of us wishes that," said Kristin with a giddy laugh. "And as long as I can be reconciled and make peace in the end with my family and with G.o.d, then I won't grieve if I have to be wed wearing the wimple of a married woman. As long as I can be with you, I often think that I could even do without peace."

"You're going to bring honor back to my manor," said Erlend. "I'm not going to pull you down into my disgrace."

Kristin shook her head. Then she said, "You'll be glad to hear that I have spoken to Simon Andressn-and he's not going to bind me to the agreements that were made for us before I met you."

Erlend was jubilant, and Kristin had to tell him everything, although she kept to herself the derogatory words that Simon had spoken about Erlend. But she did mention that he refused to let Lavrans think he was the one to blame.

"That's reasonable," said Erlend curtly. "They like each other, your father and Simon, don't they? Lavrans will like me less."

Kristin took these words to mean that Erlend understood she would still have a difficult path ahead of her before they had settled everything, and she was grateful for that. But he didn't return to this topic. He was overjoyed and said he had been afraid she wouldn't have the courage to speak to Simon.

"I can see that you're fond of him, in a way," he said.

"Does it matter to you," asked Kristin, "after all that you and I have been through, that I realize Simon is both a just and capable man?"

"If you had never met me," said Erlend, "you could have enjoyed good days with him, Kristin. Why do you laugh?"

"Oh, I'm thinking about something that Fru Aas.h.i.+ld once said," replied Kristin. "I was only a child back then. But it was something about good days being granted to sensible people, but the grandest of days are enjoyed by those who dare to act unwisely."

"G.o.d bless Aunt Aas.h.i.+ld for teaching you that," said Erlend, taking her onto his lap. "It's strange, Kristin, but I haven't noticed that you were ever afraid."

"Haven't you ever noticed?" she asked, pressing herself to him.

He set her on the edge of the bed and took off her shoes, but then he pulled her back over to the table.

"Oh no, Kristin-now things look bright for both of us. I wouldn't have acted toward you as I have," he said, stroking her hair over and over, "if it hadn't been for the fact that every time I saw you, I thought it was so unlikely that they would ever give me such a fine and beautiful wife. Sit down here and drink with me."

At that moment there was a pounding on the door, as if someone were striking it with the hilt of a sword.

"Open the door, Erlend Nikulaussn, if you're in there!"

"It's Simon Darre," said Kristin softly.

"Open up, man, in the name of the Devil-if you are are a man!" shouted Simon, striking the door again. a man!" shouted Simon, striking the door again.

Erlend went over to the bed and took his sword down from the peg. He looked around in bewilderment. "There's no place here for you to hide-except in the bed . . ."

"It wouldn't make things any better if I did that," said Kristin. She had stood up and spoke quite calmly, but Erlend saw that she was trembling. "You'll have to open the door," she said in the same voice. Simon was hammering on the door again.

Erlend went over and drew back the bolt. Simon stepped inside, holding a drawn sword in his hand, but he stuck it back into its scabbard at once.

For a moment the three of them stood there without saying a word. Kristin was shaking, and yet in those first few moments she felt an oddly sweet excitement-deep inside her something rose up, sensing this fight between two men-and she exhaled slowly: here was the culmination to those endless months of silent waiting and longing and fear. She looked from one man to the other, their faces pale, their eyes s.h.i.+ning; then her excitement collapsed into an unfathomable, freezing despair. There was more cold contempt than indignation or jealousy in Simon Darre's eyes, and she saw that Erlend, behind his obstinate expression, was burning with shame. It dawned on her how other men would judge him-he who had allowed her to come to him in such a place-and she realized that it was as if he had been struck in the face; she knew that he was burning to pull out his sword and fall upon Simon.

"Why have you come here, Simon?" she shouted loudly, sounding frightened.

Both men turned toward her.

"To take you home," said Simon. "You shouldn't be here."

"You no longer have any right to command Kristin Lavransdatter," said Erlend furiously. "She is mine now."

"No doubt she is," said Simon coa.r.s.ely. "And what a lovely bridal house you've brought her to." He stood there for a moment, breathing hard. Then he regained control over his voice and continued calmly, "But as things stand right now, I'm still her betrothed-until her father can come to get her. And until then I intend to defend with both the point and the edge of my sword as much of her honor as can be protected-in the judgment of other people."

"You don't need to do that; I can do it myself." Erlend again turned as red as blood under Simon's gaze. "Do you think I would allow myself to be threatened by a whelp like you?" he bellowed, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Simon put his hands behind his back.

"I'm not so timid that I'm afraid you'll think I'm afraid of you," he said in the same tone as before. "I shall fight you, Erlend Nikulaussn, you can bet the Devil on that, if you do not ask Kristin's father for her hand within a reasonable time."

"I won't do it at your bidding, Simon Andressn," said Erlend angrily; crimson washed over his face again.

"No, do it to right the wrong you have done to so young a wife," replied Simon, unperturbed. "That will be better for Kristin."

Kristin screamed shrilly, tormented by Erlend's pain. She stamped on the floor.

"Go now, Simon, go! What right do you have to meddle in our affairs?"

"I have already told you," replied Simon. "You'll have to put up with me until your father has released us from each other."

Kristin broke down completely.

"Go, go, I'll come right away. Jesus, why are you tormenting me like this, Simon? You can't think it's worth it for you to worry about my affairs."

"It's not for your sake I'm doing this," replied Simon. "Erlend, won't you tell her that she has to come with me?"

Erlend's face quivered. He touched her shoulder.

"You have to go now, Kristin. Simon Darre and I will talk about this some other time."

Kristin rose obediently. She fastened her cloak around her. Her shoes stood next to the bed; she remembered them, but didn't have the courage to put them on with Simon watching.

Outside the fog had descended again. Kristin rushed along with her head bowed and her hands clutching at her cloak. Her throat was bursting with suppressed sobs; wildly she wished that there was some place she could go to be alone, to weep and weep. The worst, the very worst she still had ahead of her. She had experienced something new that night, and now she was writhing from it-how it felt to see the man she had given herself to humiliated.

Simon was at her elbow as she dashed through the narrow alleys and across the streets and the open squares where the buildings had vanished; they could see nothing but the fog. Once, when she stumbled over something, he gripped her arm and stopped her from falling.

"Don't run so fast," he said. "People are staring at us. How you're trembling," he said in a gentler tone. Kristin was silent and kept walking.

She slipped on the muck of the road, she was soaking wet, and her feet were ice cold. The hose she wore were made of leather, but quite thin; she could feel them starting to split open, and the mud seeped in to her naked feet.

They reached the bridge across the convent creek and walked more slowly up the slope on the other side.

"Kristin," said Simon suddenly, "your father must never hear of this."

"How did you know that I was . . . there?" Kristin asked.

"I came to talk to you," replied Simon tersely. "Then I heard about the servant sent by your uncle. I knew that Aasmund was at Hadeland. The two of you aren't very good at inventing ruses. Did you hear what I just said?"

"Yes," replied Kristin. "I was the one who sent word to Erlend that we should meet at the Fluga house. I knew the woman."

"Then shame on you! But you couldn't have known what kind of woman she is-and he . . . Now listen," said Simon sternly. "If it is is possible to conceal it, then you should conceal from Lavrans what you have thrown away. And if you cannot, then you must try to spare him the worst of the shame." possible to conceal it, then you should conceal from Lavrans what you have thrown away. And if you cannot, then you must try to spare him the worst of the shame."

"You certainly show great concern for my father," said Kristin, trembling. She tried to speak defiantly, but her voice was about to break with tears.

Simon walked on a short distance. Then he stopped-she caught a glimpse of his face as they stood out there alone in the fog. She had never seen him look that way before.

"I've noticed it every time I've been out to visit your home," he said. "You, his women, have so little understanding of the kind of man Lavrans is. Trond Gjesling says that he doesn't keep you all in line. But why should Lavrans bother with such things when he was born to rule over men men? He had the makings of a chieftain chieftain, he was someone men would have followed, gladly; but these are not the times for such men. My father knew him at Baagahus. And so it has ended with him living up there in the valley, almost like a peasant. He was married off much too young; and your mother, with that temperament of hers, was not the one to make it any easier for him to lead such a life. It's true that he has many friends, but do you think that any one of them can measure up to him? His sons he was not allowed to keep; it was you daughters who were to continue the lineage after him. Will he now have to endure the day when he sees that one is without health and another is without honor?"

Kristin clasped her hands to her heart. She felt that she had to hold on to it to make herself as hard as she needed to be.

"Why are you telling me this?" she whispered after a moment. "You neither want to possess me nor marry me anymore."

"That . . . I do not," said Simon uncertainly. "G.o.d help me, Kristin. I remember you on that night in the loft at Finsbrekken. But may the Devil take me alive if I ever trust a maiden by her eyes again!

"Promise me this, that you will not see Erlend until your father arrives," he said as they stood at the gate.

"I won't promise that," said Kristin.

"Then he he will make me this promise," said Simon. will make me this promise," said Simon.

"I won't meet him," replied Kristin quickly.

"That poor little dog I once sent you," said Simon before they parted. "You must let your sisters have him-they're so fond of him-if you don't mind seeing him in the house, that is.

"I'm heading north tomorrow morning," he said, taking her hand in farewell as the sister keeping the gate looked on.

Simon Darre walked down toward the town. He struck at the air with his clenched fist as he walked, muttering in a low voice and cursing at the mist. He swore to himself that he wasn't sorry about her her. Kristin was like something he had believed to be pure gold, but when he saw it up close, it was merely bra.s.s and tin. White as a snowflake, she had knelt and put her hand into the flame; that was a year ago. This year she was drinking wine with an excommunicated rogue in Fluga's loft. The Devil take it, no! It was because of Lavrans Bjrgulfsn, who was sitting up there at Jrundgaard and believed . . . Never would it have occurred to Lavrans that they might betray him in this way. Now he would have to bring Lavrans the message himself and be an accomplice in lying to this man. That was why his heart was burning with grief and rage.

Kristin had not intended to keep her promise to Simon Darre, but she managed to exchange only a few words with Erlend, one evening up on the road.

She stood there holding his hand, strangely submissive, while he talked about what had happened up in Brynhild's loft the last time they had met. He would speak to Simon Andressn some other time. "If we had fought up there, news of it would have spread all over town," said Erlend angrily. "He knew that quite well, that Simon."

Kristin could see how the incident had made him suffer. She had also been thinking about it constantly ever since. There was no escaping the fact that in this situation, Erlend was left with even less honor than she was. And she felt that now they were truly one flesh; she would have to answer for everything he did, even when she disliked his conduct, and she would feel it on her own hand when Erlend so much as scratched his skin.

Three weeks later Lavrans Bjrgulfsn came to Oslo to get his daughter.

Kristin was both afraid and sick at heart when she went to the parlatory to meet her father. The first thing that struck her as she watched him conversing with Sister Potentia was that he didn't look the same as she remembered him. Perhaps he had not actually changed since they parted a year ago, but over the years she had always seen him as the young, vigorous, and handsome man she had been so proud to have as her father when she was small. Each winter and each summer that had pa.s.sed up there at home had no doubt marked him and made him age, just as they had seen her develop into a grown-up young woman-but she had not noticed it. She hadn't noticed that his hair had paled in some spots and had acquired a rusty reddish sheen at his temples, the way blond hair goes gray. His cheeks had become dry and thin so that the muscles of his face extended like cords to his mouth; his youthful white and pink complexion had grown uniformly weather-beaten. His back was not bowed, and yet his shoulder blades curved in a different manner beneath his cape. His step was light and steady as he came toward her with his hand outstretched, but these were not the same limber, brisk movements of the past. All of these things had probably been present the year before, but Kristin simply hadn't noticed. Perhaps there was a slight touch of something else-a touch of dejection-that made her see these things now. She burst into tears.

Lavrans put his arm around her shoulder and held his hand to her cheek.

"Now, now, try to calm yourself, child," he said gently.

"Are you angry with me, Father?" she asked softly.

"Surely you must realize that I am," he replied, but he kept on caressing her cheek. "But you also know full well that you needn't be afraid of me," he said sadly. "No, you must calm down now, Kristin; aren't you ashamed to be acting this way?" She was crying so hard that she had to sit down on a bench. "We're not going to speak of these matters here where people are coming and going," he said, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. "Aren't you going to ask me about your mother? And your sisters?"

"What does Mother say about all this?" asked his daughter.

"Oh, you can imagine what she thinks-but we're not going to talk about that here," he said again. "Otherwise she's fine." And then he began to tell her all about everyone back home, until Kristin gradually grew calmer.

But she felt as if the tension only grew worse as her father refused to say anything about her breach of promise. He gave her money to distribute among the poor at the convent and gifts for the lay sisters; he himself gave generously to the convent and to the sisters, and no one at Nonneseter had any other thought than that Kristin was now going home to celebrate her betrothal and her marriage. They both ate the last meal at Fru Groa's table in the abbess's room, and the abbess gave Kristin the best report.

But all this finally came to an end. She said her last goodbyes to the sisters and her friends at the convent gate. Lavrans escorted her to her horse and lifted her into the saddle. It was so strange to be riding with her father and the men from Jrundgaard down to the bridge, along the road on which she had crept in the dark; it was odd to be riding so n.o.bly and freely through the streets of Oslo. She thought about the magnificent wedding procession that Erlend had spoken of so often. Her heart grew heavy; it would have been easier if he had taken her with him. There was still a long time remaining for her to be one person in secret and another in public with other people. But then her gaze fell on her father's aging, somber face, and she tried to convince herself that Erlend was right after all.

There were other travelers at the hostel. In the evening they all ate together in a small room with an open hearth where there were only two beds. Lavrans and Kristin were to sleep there, for they were the foremost guests at the inn. The others left when it grew late, saying a friendly good night and then dispersing to find a place to sleep. Kristin thought about the fact that she was the one who had sneaked up to Brynhild Fluga's loft and allowed Erlend to take her in his arms. Sick with sorrow and the fear that she might never be his, she felt that she no longer belonged here, among these people.

Her father was sitting over on the bench, looking at her.

"We're not going to Skog this time?" Kristin asked, to break the silence.

"No," replied Lavrans. "I've had enough of listening to your uncle for a while-about why I don't use force against you," he explained when she looked at him.

"Yes, I would force you to keep your word," he said after a moment, "if only Simon hadn't said that he did not want an unwilling wife."

"I have never given Simon my word," said Kristin hastily. "You always said before that you would never force me into a marriage." have never given Simon my word," said Kristin hastily. "You always said before that you would never force me into a marriage."