Simon scolded her a bit because she had come alone. He said he would have horses saddled and escort her home himself. But first she must have some food. Ramborg ran at once over to the bed where little Arngjerd lay ill; both the child and Sigrid were pleased with their guest, for Ramborg was both lively and merry. She wasn’t like her sisters, thought Simon.
He rode with Ramborg as far as the manor gate and was then about to turn around when he met Lavrans, who had just learned that the child was not with her foster sisters at Laugarbru. He was on his way out with his servants to look for her—he was quite worried. Now Simon had to come inside, and as soon as he sat down in the hall of the main house, his shyness left him and he soon felt at home with Ragnfrid and Lavrans. They sat up late over their ale, and since the weather had grown quite fierce, he accepted their invitation to stay the night.
There were two beds in the hall. Ragnfrid made up one of them nicely for the guest, and then she asked where Ramborg should sleep—with her parents or in the other building?
“No, I want to sleep in my own bed,” said the child. “Can’t I sleep with you, Simon?” she begged.
Her father said that their guest should not be bothered with children in his bed, but Ramborg continued to insist that she wanted to sleep with Simon. Finally Lavrans said sternly that she was too big to share a bed with a strange man.
“No, I’m not, Father,” she protested. “I’m not too big, am I, Simon?”
“You’re too little,” said Simon, laughing. “Offer to sleep with me five years from now and I certainly won’t say no. But by then you’ll no doubt want a different sort of man than a hideous, fat old widower, little Ramborg!”
Lavrans didn’t seem pleased by the jest; he told her sharply to keep quiet now and go lie down in her parents’ bed.
But Ramborg shouted, “Now you have asked for me, Simon Darre, so my father could hear you!”
“So be it,” replied Simon with a laugh. “But I’m afraid he would refuse me, Ramborg.”
After that day the people of Formo and J?rundgaard were constantly together. Ramborg went over to the neighboring estate as often as she had the chance, tending to Arngjerd as if the child were one of her dolls, following Sigrid around and helping with household chores, sitting on Simon’s lap when they were in the main house. He fell into the habit of teasing and chattering with the maiden as he had in the old days when she and Ulvhild were like sisters to him.
Simon had lived in the valley for two years when Geirmund Hersteinss?n 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 rushing 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 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 Andress?n?”
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 J?rundgaard 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 Haakonss?n 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.
But Eindride Gjesling celebrated his marriage to another maiden, and the people at J?rundgaard 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 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 God and Our Lady for better fortune than I had ever expected—but I will not bind you to this, fair Ramborg.”