“That will be troublesome for you—setting out over the mountains now, in the wintertime,” said Sir Erling. “It would be pleasant if you would accompany Haftor and myself.”
“I have promised to travel with others,” replied Erlend.
“Ah yes, you will join your father-in-law—yes, that seems only fitting.”
“Well, no—I don’t know these men from the valley who are riding with him.” Erlend sat in silence for a moment. “No, I have promised to look in on Munan at Stange,” he said quickly.
“You don’t need to waste your time looking for Munan there,” replied Erling. “He’s gone to his estates at Hising, and it might be some time before he comes north again. Has it been a long time since you heard from him?”
“It was around Michaelmas—he wrote to me from Ringabu.”
“Well, you know what happened in the valley here last autumn,” said Erling. “You don’t? Surely you must know that he rode around to the district sheriffs of Lake Mj?sa and all along the valley carrying letters stating that the farmers should pay for provisions and horses for a full campaign3—with six farmers for each horse—and that the gentry should send horses but would be allowed to stay at home. Haven’t you heard about this? And that the men of the northern valleys refused to pay this war tax when Munan accompanied Eirik Topp to the ting in Vaage? And Lavrans Bj?rgulfs?n was the one who led the opposition—he demanded that Eirik pursue a lawful course, if anything remained of the lawful taxes, but he called it an injustice against the peasantry to demand war taxes from the farmers to help a Dane in a feud with the Danish king. And yet if our king required the service of his retainers, then he would find them quick enough to respond with good weapons and horses and armed men. But he would not send from J?rundgaard even a goat with a hemp halter unless the king commanded him to ride it himself to the mustering of the army. You truly didn’t know about this? Smid Gudleikss?n says that Lavrans had promised his tenants that he would pay the campaign levies for them, if need be.”
Erlend sat there stunned.
“Lavrans did that? Never have I heard of my wife’s father involving himself in matters other than those concerning his own properties or those of his friends.”
“No doubt he seldom does,” said Sir Erling. “But this much was clear to me when I was at Nes—when Lavrans Bj?rgulfs?n decides to speak about a matter, he receives everyone’s full support, for he never speaks without understanding the issue so well that his opinion would be difficult to refute. Now, regarding these events, he has no doubt exchanged letters with his kinsmen in Sweden. Fru Ramborg, his father’s mother, and Sir Erngisle’s grandfather were the children of two brothers, so Lavrans has strong family ties over there. No matter how quiet his manner, your father-in-law commands power of some consequence in those parishes where people know him—although he doesn’t often make use of it.”
“Well, now I can understand why you have taken up with him, Erling,” said Erlend, laughing. “I was rather surprised that you had become such good friends.”
“Why should that surprise you?” replied Erling soberly. “It would be an odd man who would not want to call Lavrans of J?rundgaard his friend. You would be better served, kinsman, to listen to him than to Munan.”
“Munan has been like an older brother to me, ever since the day when I left home for the first time,” said Erlend, a little heatedly. “He has never failed me whenever I was in trouble. So if he’s in trouble now . . .”
“Munan will manage well enough,” said Erling Vidkunss?n, his voice still calm. “The letters he carried were written and sealed with the royal seal of Norway—unlawful, but that’s not his problem. Oh yes, there’s more. That to which he testified and attached his seal when he was a witness to the maiden Eufemia’s betrothal 4—but this cannot be easily revealed without mentioning someone whom we cannot . . . If truth be told, Erlend, I think Munan will save himself without your support—but you may harm yourself if you—”
“It’s Lady Ingebj?rg that all of you want to depose, I see,” said Erlend. “But I’ve promised our kinswoman to serve her both here and abroad.”
“I have too,” replied Erling. “And I intend to keep that promise—as does every Norwegian man who has served and loved our lord and kinsman, King Haakon. And she is now best served by being separated from those advisers who counsel so young a woman to the detriment of her son and herself.”
“Do you think you’re capable of that?” asked Erlend, his voice subdued.
“Yes,” said Erling Vidkunss?n firmly. “I think we are. And everyone else thinks so too, if they refuse to listen to malicious and slanderous talk.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And those of us who are kinsmen of Lady Ingebj?rg should be the last to do that.”
A servant woman raised the hatch in the floor and said that if it suited them, the mistress would now have the food carried into the hall.
While everyone was sitting at the table, the conversation, such as it was, constantly touched on the great news that was circulating. Kristin noticed that both her father and Sir Erling refused to join in; they brought up news of bride purchases and deaths, inheritance disputes and property trades among family and acquaintances. She grew uneasy but didn’t know why. They had business with Erlend—this much she understood. And yet she didn’t want to admit this to herself. She now knew her husband so well that she realized Erlend, with all his stubborn-mindedness, was easily influenced by anyone who had a firm hand in a soft glove, as the saying goes.
After the meal, the gentlemen moved over to the hearth, where they sat and drank. Kristin settled herself on a bench, put her needlework frame in her lap, and began twining the threads. A moment later Haftor Graut came over, placed a cushion on the floor, and sat down at Kristin’s feet. He had found Erlend’s psaltery; he set it on his knee and sat there strumming it as he chatted. Haftor was quite a young man with curly blond hair and the fairest features, but his face was covered with freckles. Kristin quickly noticed that he was exceedingly talkative. He had recently made a rich marriage, but he was bored back home on his estates; that was why he wanted to travel to the gathering of the king’s retainers.
“But it’s understandable that Erlend Nikulauss?n would want to stay home,” he said, laying his head in her lap. Kristin moved away a bit, laughed, and said with an innocent expression that she knew only that her husband was intending to travel south, “for whatever reason that might be. There’s so much unrest in the country right now; it’s difficult for a simple woman to understand such things.”
“And yet it’s the simplicity of a woman that’s the main cause of it all,” replied Haftor, laughing and moving closer. “At least that’s what Erling and Lavrans Bj?rgulfs?n say—I’d like to know what they mean by that. What do you think, Mistress Kristin? Lady Ingebj?rg is a good and simple woman. Perhaps right now she is sitting as you are, twining silk threads with her snow-white fingers and thinking: It would be hard-hearted to refuse the loyal chieftain of her deceased husband some small assistance to improve his lot.”
Erlend came and sat down next to his wife so that Haftor had to move over a bit.
“The women chatter about such nonsense in the hostels when their husbands are foolish enough to take them along to the meeting.”
“Where I come from, it’s said that there’s no smoke unless there’s fire,” said Haftor.