Kristin Lavransdatter Part 43

Simon had lived in the valley for two years when Geirmund Hersteinssn of Kruke asked for the hand of Sigrid Andresdatter. The family of Kruke was an old lineage, but even though some of the men had served in the retinues of kings, they had never won fame outside their own district. Yet it was the best marriage Sigrid could expect to make, and she was quite willing to marry Geirmund. Her brothers made the arrangements, and Simon was to hold his sister's wedding on his estate.

One evening just before the wedding, when they were rus.h.i.+ng about making preparations for the feast, Simon said in jest that he didn't know how things would go with his household after Sigrid left. Then Ramborg said, "You'll have to manage as best you can for two more years, Simon. At fourteen a maiden reaches a marriageable age, and then you can bring me home."

"No, you you I wouldn't want," said Simon with a laugh. "I don't trust my ability to harness a wild maiden like you." I wouldn't want," said Simon with a laugh. "I don't trust my ability to harness a wild maiden like you."

"It's the ponds with still water that have deceptive bottoms, my father says," replied Ramborg. "I may be wild, but my sister was meek and quiet. Have you forgotten Kristin, Simon Andressn?"

Simon jumped up from the bench, took the maiden in his arms, and raised her to his chest. He kissed her throat so hard that he left a little red mark. Horrified and astounded by his own actions, he let her go; then he grabbed Arngjerd, tossed her in the air, and hugged her in the same way so as to hide his feelings. He ran about, chasing the girls, the half-grown maiden and the little one, so that they fled up onto the tables and along the benches, until finally he lifted them up onto the crossbeam nearest the door and then ran outside.

They almost never mentioned Kristin at Jrundgaard when he was within earshot.

Ramborg Lavransdatter grew up to be a lovely maiden. The local gossips were busy marrying her off. One time it was Eindride Haakonssn of the Valders-Gjeslings. They were third cousins but Lavrans and Haakon were both so wealthy that they should be able to send a letter to the Pope in Italy and obtain dispensation.2 That would finally put an end to some of the old legal disputes that had continued ever since the old Gjeslings had sided with Duke Skule, and King Haakon had taken the Vaage estate away from them and given it to Sigurd Eldjar. Ivar Gjesling the Younger had, in turn, acquired Sundbu through marriage and the exchange of properties, but these matters had caused an endless number of quarrels and disagreements. Lavrans himself laughed at the whole thing; whatever compensation he might be able to claim for his wife wasn't worth the parchment and wax he had used up on this matter-not to mention the toil and traveling. But he had been embroiled in the dispute ever since he had become a married man, so he couldn't give it up. That would finally put an end to some of the old legal disputes that had continued ever since the old Gjeslings had sided with Duke Skule, and King Haakon had taken the Vaage estate away from them and given it to Sigurd Eldjar. Ivar Gjesling the Younger had, in turn, acquired Sundbu through marriage and the exchange of properties, but these matters had caused an endless number of quarrels and disagreements. Lavrans himself laughed at the whole thing; whatever compensation he might be able to claim for his wife wasn't worth the parchment and wax he had used up on this matter-not to mention the toil and traveling. But he had been embroiled in the dispute ever since he had become a married man, so he couldn't give it up.

But Eindride Gjesling celebrated his marriage to another maiden, and the people at Jrundgaard didn't seem overly troubled by this. They were invited to the banquet, and Ramborg told everyone proudly when she came home that four men had spoken to Lavrans about her, either on their own behalf or for kinsmen. Lavrans had told them he wouldn't agree to any betrothal for his daughter until she was old enough to have some say in the matter herself.

And that's how things stood until the spring of the year when Ramborg was fourteen winters old. One evening she was out in the cowshed at Formo with Simon, looking at a new calf. It was white with a brown patch, and Ramborg thought the patch looked very much like a church. Simon was sitting on the edge of the grain bin, the maiden was leaning on his knees, and he was tugging at her braids.

"It looks as if you will soon be riding in a bridal procession to church, Ramborg!"

"You know quite well that my father wouldn't refuse you if you asked for my hand," she said. "I'm old enough now that I could be married this year."

Simon gave a little start, but he tried to laugh.

"Are you talking about that foolishness again?"

"You know it's not foolishness," said the girl, looking up at him with her big eyes. "I've known for a long time that what I want is to move over here to Formo with you. Why have you kissed me and held me on your lap so often for all these years if you didn't want to marry me?"

"Certainly I would like to marry you, dear Ramborg. But I've never thought that such a young, beautiful maiden would be intended for me. I'm seventeen years older than you; no doubt you haven't thought about how you would end up with an old, bleary-eyed, big-bellied husband while you were a woman in the best of her years."

"These are are my best years," she said, her face radiant. "And besides, you're not so decrepit, Simon!" my best years," she said, her face radiant. "And besides, you're not so decrepit, Simon!"

"But I'm ugly too. You'd soon grow tired of kissing me!"

"You have no reason to think that," she replied, laughing again as she tilted her face up toward him for a kiss. But he didn't kiss her.

"I won't take advantage of your imprudence, my sweet. Lavrans wants to take you with him to the south this summer. If you haven't changed your mind when you return, then I will thank G.o.d and Our Lady for better fortune than I had ever expected-but I will not bind you to this, fair Ramborg."

He took his dogs, his spear, and his bow and went up into the mountains that same evening. There was still a great deal of snow on the high plateau. He went to his hut to get a pair of skis and then stayed out by the lake south of the Boar Range and hunted reindeer for a week. But on the night he headed back toward the village, he grew uneasy and afraid again. It would be just like Ramborg to have said something to her father all the same. As he crossed the meadow near Jrundgaard's mountain hut, he saw smoke and sparks coming from the roof. He thought Lavrans himself might be there, so he went over to the hut.

From the other man's demeanor Simon thought he had guessed right. But they sat and talked about the bad summer the year before and about when might be a good time to move the livestock up to the mountain pastures; about the hunting and about Lavrans's new falcon, which was sitting on the floor, flapping its wings over the entrails of the birds roasting on a spit over the fire. Lavrans had come up to see to his horse shed in Ilmandsdal; it was reported to have collapsed, according to several people from Alv dal who had pa.s.sed through earlier that day. The two men spent most of the evening in this fas.h.i.+on.

Then Simon finally said, "I don't know whether Ramborg has said anything to you about a matter which we discussed one evening?"

Lavrans said slowly, "I think you should have spoken to me first, Simon. You might imagine what kind of answer you would have received. Yes, well-I can understand how it happened that you mentioned it first to the maiden-and it will make no difference. I'm happy to give my child into the hands of a good man."

Then there's not much more to say, thought Simon. And yet it was strange-here he sat, a man who had never intended to come too close to any virtuous maiden or woman, and now he was bound on his honor to marry a girl he did not truly want. But he made an attempt.

"It's not true, Lavrans, that I've been courting your daughter behind your back. I thought I was so old that she wouldn't consider it anything but brotherly affection from the past if I talked with her so often. And if you think I'm too old for her, I wouldn't be surprised nor would I allow it to end the friends.h.i.+p between us."

"I've met few men I would rather see take a son's place than you, Simon," replied Lavrans. "And I would rather give Ramborg away myself. You know who would be the man to arrange her marriage after I'm gone." That was the first time any mention was made between them of Erlend Nikulaussn. "In many ways my son-in-law is a better man than I took him for when I first met him. But I don't know whether he's the right person to make a wise decision about a young maiden's marriage. And I can tell that this is what Ramborg wants herself."

"She thinks so now," said Simon. "But she's hardly more than a child, and I don't intend to press you, if you think we should wait a little longer."

"And I," said Lavrans with a slight frown, "do not intend to force my daughter upon you-you mustn't believe that."

"You should know," said Simon quickly, "that there is not another maiden in all of Norway I would rather have than Ramborg. If truth be told, Lavrans, my good fortune seems much too great if I'm to have such a fair, young, and good bride, who is rich and descended from the best lineage. And you as my father-in-law," he added, a little self-consciously. should know," said Simon quickly, "that there is not another maiden in all of Norway I would rather have than Ramborg. If truth be told, Lavrans, my good fortune seems much too great if I'm to have such a fair, young, and good bride, who is rich and descended from the best lineage. And you as my father-in-law," he added, a little self-consciously.

Lavrans chuckled with embarra.s.sment. "You know how I feel about you. And you will deal with my child and her inheritance in such a way that her mother and I will never have cause to regret this arrangement."

"That I promise you, with the help of G.o.d and all the saints," said Simon.

Then they shook hands. Simon remembered the first time he had secured such an arrangement by clasping Lavrans's hand. His heart felt small and pained in his breast.

But Ramborg was was a better match than he could have expected. There were only the two daughters to divide up the inheritance after Lavrans's death. He would step into the role of son with the man whom he had always respected and loved above all others he knew. And Ramborg was indeed young and sweet and lively. a better match than he could have expected. There were only the two daughters to divide up the inheritance after Lavrans's death. He would step into the role of son with the man whom he had always respected and loved above all others he knew. And Ramborg was indeed young and sweet and lively.

Surely he must have acquired the wisdom of a grown man by now. Had he actually thought he could win Kristin as a widow even though he couldn't have her as a maiden? After the other man had enjoyed her youth-and with a dozen stepsons of his lineage? No, then he deserved to have his brothers declare him incapable and refuse to let him handle his own affairs. Erlend would live to be as old as the stone of the mountain-that type of fellow always did.

So now they would be called brothers-in-law. They hadn't seen each other since that night in the house in Oslo. Well, no doubt it would be even more uncomfortable for Erlend than for him to be reminded of that.

He would be a good husband to Ramborg, with no deceptions. And yet it was possible that the child had lured him into a trap.

"You're sitting there laughing?" said Lavrans.

"Was I laughing? It was just something that struck me . . ."

"You must tell me what it is, Simon, so I can laugh too."

Simon Andressn fixed his small, sharp eyes on the other man's face.

"I was thinking about . . . women. I wonder whether any woman respects the laws and beliefs of men as we do among ourselves-when she or her own kind can win something by stepping over them. Halfrid, my first wife . . . Well, I haven't spoken of this to a single Christian soul before you, Lavrans Bjrgulfsn, and I will never speak of it again. She was such a good and pious and virtuous woman that I don't think she has ever had an equal. I've told you about what she did when Arngjerd was born. But back when we realized how things stood with Sigrid-well, Halfrid wanted us to hide my sister and she would pretend that she herself was with child and then present Sigrid's child as her own. In that way we would have an heir and the child would be cared for, and Sigrid could live with us and wouldn't have to be separated from her son. I don't think Halfrid realized that this would have been a betrayal of her own kinsmen."

After a moment Lavrans said, "Then you could have stayed at Mandvik, Simon."

"Yes." Simon Darre laughed harshly. "And perhaps with just as much right as many other men occupy lands they call their ancestral estates. Since we have nothing more to rely on in such matters except the honor of women."

Lavrans pulled the hood over the falcon's head and lifted the bird onto his wrist.

"This is a strange topic of conversation for a man who is thinking of marriage," he said quietly. There was a hint of displeasure in his voice.

"Of course no one would think such things of your your daughters," replied Simon. daughters," replied Simon.

Lavrans looked down at his falcon, scratching it with a twig.

"Not even about Kristin?" he whispered.

"No," said Simon firmly. "She didn't deal with me kindly, but I never found that she was untruthful. She told me honestly and openly that she had met another man whom she cared for more than me."

"When you so willingly let her go," said Lavrans softly, "that was not because you had heard . . . any rumors about her?"

"No," said Simon in the same firm voice. "I never heard rumors about Kristin."

It was agreed that the betrothal would be celebrated that very summer and the wedding would take place during Easter of the following year, after Ramborg had turned fifteen.

Kristin had not seen Jrundgaard since the day she rode away as a bride, and that was eight winters ago. Now she returned with a great entourage: her husband, Margret, five sons, nursemaids, serving men and women, and horses carrying their traveling goods. Lavrans had ridden out to meet them and found them at Dovre. Kristin no longer cried as easily as she had in her youth, but when she saw her father riding toward them, her eyes filled with tears. She reined in her horse, slipped down from the saddle, and ran to greet her father; when she reached him, she grabbed his hand and kissed it humbly. Lavrans at once jumped down from his horse and took his daughter in his arms. Then he shook hands with Erlend, who had done as the others had and came to meet his father-in-law on foot, with respectful words of greeting.

The next day Simon came over to Jrundgaard to see his new kinsmen. Gyrd Darre and Geirmund of Kruke were with him, but their wives had stayed behind at Formo. Simon was going to hold the wedding at his own estate, so there was much work for the women to do.

It turned out that when they met, Simon and Erlend greeted each other openly and without restraint. Simon kept his feelings in check, and Erlend was so unabashed and merry that the other man thought he must have forgotten where they had last met. Then Simon gave Kristin his hand. The two of them were more uncertain, and their eyes barely met for more than a moment.

Kristin thought his looks had faded a good deal. In his youth, Simon had been quite handsome, even though he was much too stout and his neck was too thick. His steel-gray eyes had seemed small under his full eyelids, his mouth was too little, and his dimples were too big in his round, childish face. But he had had a healthy complexion and a broad, milky-white forehead under his beautiful, curly, light-brown hair. His hair was still curly, and just as thick and nut-brown, but his whole face was now reddish-brown; he had lines under his eyes, heavy jowls, and a double chin. He had become heavyset, and he had a noticeable belly. He didn't look like a man who would take time to lie down on the edge of the bed in the evening to whisper to his betrothed. Kristin felt sorry for her young sister; she was so lively and lovely and childishly happy about her marriage. On the very first day she showed Kristin all the chests containing her dowry and Simon's betrothal gifts. And she said she had heard from Sigrid Andresdatter about a gilded chest that was up in the bridal loft at Formo; there were twelve costly wimples inside, and this was what her husband was going to give her on their first morning. Poor little thing, she had no idea what marriage was like. It was too bad that Kristin hardly knew her little sister; Ramborg had been to Husaby twice, but there she was always sullen and unfriendly. She didn't care for Erlend or for Margret, who was the same age.

Simon thought to himself that he had expected-perhaps even hoped-that Kristin would look more careworn than she did, after having so many children. But she was glowing with youth and health, her posture was still erect, and her bearing just as lovely, although her step was a little firmer than before. She was the most beautiful mother with her five handsome small sons.

She was wearing a homemade gown of rust-brown wool with dark-blue birds woven into the cloth; Simon remembered standing next to her loom while she sat and worked on that cloth.

There was some commotion when they were about to sit down at the table in the loft of the main house. Skule and Ivar began screaming; they wanted to sit between their mother and foster mother, as they usually did. Lavrans didn't think it proper for Ramborg to sit farther down than her sister's servant woman and children, so he invited his daughter to sit in the high seat next to him, since she would soon be leaving home.

The small sons from Husaby were unruly and seemed to have no table manners. They had barely started eating before the little blond boy ducked under the table and popped up on the cus.h.i.+on next to Simon's knee.

"Can I look at that odd sheath you have on your belt, kinsman Simon?" he asked. The boy spoke slowly and solemnly. It was the large silver-studded sheath holding a spoon and two knives that he had caught sight of.

"Yes, you may, kinsman. And what is your name, cousin?"

"My name is Gaute Erlendssn, cousin." He put the sc.r.a.p of bacon he was holding onto the lap of Simon's silver-gray Flemish surcoat, pulled a knife out of the sheath, and examined it carefully. Then he took the knife that Simon was eating with, and the spoon, and put them all back in place so he could see how the sheath looked when everything was inside. He was quite earnest, and his fingers and face were very greasy. Simon smiled at the eager expression on the small, handsome face.

A few minutes later the two oldest boys came over to the men's bench too. The twins toppled under the table and began rolling around between everyone's feet; then they went over to the dogs near the fire. There was little peace for the adults as they ate their supper. Their mother and father reprimanded the boys and told them to sit quietly, but the children paid them no mind. And their parents kept laughing at them and seemed not to take their mischievous behavior too seriously-not even when Lavrans, in a rather sharp voice, told one of his men to take the whelps down to the room below so people in the hall could hear themselves speak.

Everyone from Husaby was to sleep in the loft of the main house, and after the meal, while more ale was being brought in for the men, Kristin and her maids took the children over to a corner of the hall to undress them. They had gotten so dirty while eating that their mother wanted to wash them up a bit. But the youngest boys refused to be washed, and the older ones splashed the water, and then all of them started rus.h.i.+ng around the hall as the maids pulled one piece of clothing after another off them. Finally they were all put into one bed, but they continued to yell and play and shove each other, laughing and shrieking. Pillows and coverlets and sheets were hurled this way and that, making dust fly, and the smell of chaff filled the whole room. Kristin laughed and explained calmly that they were so high-spirited from being in a strange place.

Ramborg accompanied her betrothed outside and walked with him for a short distance between the fences in the spring night. Gyrd and Geirmund had ridden on ahead while Simon stopped to say good night. He had already put his foot in the stirrup when he turned back to the maiden, took her in his arms, and held the delicate child so close that she whimpered happily.

"G.o.d bless you, dear Ramborg-you're so fine and so fair-much too fine and fair for me," he murmured into her ma.s.s of curls.

Ramborg stood watching Simon as he rode off into the misty moonlight. She rubbed her arm-he had gripped her so hard that it hurt. Dizzy with joy, she thought: Now there were only three days left until she would be married to him.

Lavrans stood next to Kristin at the children's bedside and watched her tucking in her small sons. The eldest were already big boys with lanky bodies and slender, lean limbs; but the two smallest ones were chubby and rosy, with folds in their skin and dimples at their joints. Lavrans thought it a lovely sight to see them lying there, pink and warm, their thick hair damp with sweat, breathing quietly as they slept. They were healthy, beautiful boys-but never had he seen such poorly behaved children as his grandsons. Luckily Simon's sister and sister-in-law hadn't been present tonight. But he wasn't the one to speak to Kristin about discipline. Lavrans gave a small sigh and then made the sign of the cross over the small boys' heads.

Then Simon Andressn celebrated his wedding to Ramborg Lavransdatter, and it was magnificent and grand in every way. The bride and bridegroom looked happy, and it seemed to many that Ramborg was more lovely on her wedding day than her sister had been-perhaps not as striking as Kristin, but much happier and gentler. Everyone could see in the bride's clear, innocent eyes that she wore the golden crown of her Gjesling ancestors with full honor on that day.

And full of joy and pride, with her hair pinned up, she sat in the armchair in front of the bridal bed as the guests came upstairs to greet the young couple on the first morning. With laughter and bold teasing, they watched as Simon placed the wimple of a married woman over his young wife's head. Cheers and the clanging of weapons filled the room as Ramborg stood up, straight-backed and flushed beneath the white wimple, and gave her husband her hand.

It was not often that two n.o.ble children from the same district were married-when all the branches of the lineage were studied, it was often found that the kins.h.i.+p was too close. So everyone considered this wedding to be a great and joyous occasion.

CHAPTER 6.

ONE OF THE first things Kristin noticed at home was that all the carvings of old men's heads which sat carved above the crossbeams on the building gables were now gone. They had been replaced by spires with foliage and birds, and there was a gilded weather vane atop the new house. The old posts on the high seat in the hearth room had also been replaced with new ones. The old ones had been carved to look like two men-rather hideous, but they had apparently been there since the house was built, and the servants used to polish them with fat and wash them with ale before the holy days. On the new posts her father had carved two men with crosses on their helmets and s.h.i.+elds. They weren't meant to be Saint Olav himself, Lavrans said, for he didn't think it would be proper for a sinful man to have images of the saint in his house, except those he knelt in front of to say his prayers. But they could very well be two of Olav's men. Lavrans had chopped up and burned all the old carvings himself. The servants didn't dare. It was with some reluctance that he still allowed them to take food out to the great stone at Jrund's grave on the evening before holy days; Lavrans conceded that it would be a shame to take away from the original owner of the estate something he had grown accustomed to receiving for as long as anyone had lived on the land. He died long before Christianity came to Norway, so it wasn't his fault that he was a heathen.

People didn't like these changes that Lavrans Bjrgulfsn had made. That was fine for him, since he could afford to buy his security elsewhere. And it seemed to be equally powerful, because he continued to have the same good fortune with his farming as before. But there was some talk that the spirits might take their revenge when the estate was taken over by a master who was less pious and not as generous about everything that belonged to the Church. And it was easier for poor folk to give the ancestors what they were used to receiving instead of stirring up strife with them by siding too much with the priests.

Otherwise it was rather uncertain how things would go with the friends.h.i.+p between Jrundgaard and the parsonage after Sira Eirik was gone. The priest was old now and in poor health, and he had been forced to bring in a curate to a.s.sist him. At first he had talked to the bishop about his grandson Bentein Jonssn; but Lavrans had also had a word with the bishop, who had been his friend in the past. People thought this unfair. No doubt the young priest had been overly importunate toward Kristin Lavransdatter on that evening, and he may have even frightened the girl; but it was also possible that she herself might have been to blame for the young man's boldness. It had later turned out that she was not as shy as she seemed to be. But Lavrans had always believed his daughter to be good, and he treated her as if she were a holy shrine.

After that there was a coldness between Sira Eirik and Lavrans for some time. But then Sira Solmund arrived, and he was immediately embroiled in a dispute with the parish priest over a piece of land and whether it belonged to the parsonage or to Eirik himself. Lavrans had the best grasp of any man in the district about land purchases and such matters back to ancient times, and it was his testimony that determined the outcome. Since then, he and Sira Solmund had not been friends. But it might be said that Sira Eirik and Audun, the old deacon, practically lived at Jrundgaard now, for they went over there every day to sit with Lavrans and complain of all the injustices and troubles they had to endure from the new priest; and they were waited on as if they were bishops.

Kristin had heard a little about this from Borgar Trondssn of Sundbu; his wife came from Trndelag, and he had been a guest at Husaby several times. Trond Gjesling had been dead for a few years now. But this was not considered a great loss, since he had been like an intruder in the ancient lineage-surly, avaricious, and sickly. Lavrans was the only one who had any patience with Trond, for he pitied his brother-in-law and even more Gudrid, his wife. Now they were both gone, and all four of their sons lived together on the estate. They were intrepid, promising, and handsome men; people thought them a good replacement for the father. There was great friends.h.i.+p between these men and the master of Jrundgaard. Lavrans rode to Sundbu a couple of times each year to join them in hunting on the slopes of Vestfjeld. But Borgar said that it seemed completely unreasonable the way Lavrans and Ragnfrid were now worrying themselves with penances and devotions.

"He gulps down water during fasts just as eagerly as always, but your father doesn't speak to the ale bowls with the same heartiness he used to show in the past," said Borgar. No one could understand the man-it was unthinkable that Lavrans might have some secret sin to repent. As far as people could tell, he had lived as Christian a life as any child of Adam, apart from the saints.

Deep inside Kristin's heart, a foreboding began to stir about why her father was always striving so hard to come closer to G.o.d. But she didn't dare think about it too much.

She didn't want to acknowledge how changed her father was. It wasn't that he had aged excessively: he was still slim, with an erect and n.o.ble bearing. His hair was quite gray now, but it wasn't overly noticeable, since he had always been so fair. And yet . . . Kristin's memory was haunted by the image of the young and radiantly handsome man-the fresh roundness of his cheeks in the narrow face, the pure blush of his skin under the sheen of tan, and the crimson fullness of his lips with the deep corners. Now his muscular body had withered to bone and sinew, his face was brown and sharp, as if carved out of wood, and his cheeks were flat and gaunt, with a knot of muscle at the corners of his mouth. Well, he was no longer a young man-and yet he wasn't very old, either.

He had always been quiet, sober-minded, and pensive, and Kristin knew that even in childhood he had obeyed the Christian commandments with particular zeal. He loved the holy ma.s.s and prayers spoken in Latin, and he regarded the church as the place where he felt the most joy. But everyone had sensed a daring courage and zest for life flowing calmly in this quiet man's soul. Now it seemed as if something had ebbed out of him.

Since she had come home, she hadn't seen him drunk except on one occasion-an evening during the wedding celebration at Formo. Then he had staggered a bit and slurred his words, but he hadn't been especially merry. She thought back to her childhood, to the banquets and great ale drinking on feast days, when her father would roar with laughter and slap his thighs at every jest-offering to fight or wrestle with any man renowned for his physical strength, trying out horses, and leaping into dance, but laughing most at himself when he was unsteady on his feet, and lavishly handing out gifts, br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with good will and kindness toward everyone. She understood that her father needed this sort of exhilaration from time to time, amidst the constant work, the strict fasts he kept, and the sedate home life with his own people, who saw him as their best friend and supporter.