“Many are surprised that you’re heading for Denmark, just as the chieftains are gathering for a meeting in Tunsberg,” said Sir Erling.
“Yes, isn’t it odd how people are always surprised by me? Maybe I have a mind to see some of the folk customs I haven’t seen since I was last in Denmark—maybe even participate in a tournament. And our kinswoman has invited me, after all. No one else in her lineage here in Norway wants anything to do with her now, except Munan and myself.”
“Munan . . .” Erling frowned. Then he laughed and said, “Is there so much life left in the old boar? I’d almost thought he wouldn’t have the energy to move his bulk about anymore. So Duke Knut is organizing a tournament, is he? And is Munan going to join in the jousting?”
“Yes—it’s too bad, Erling, you can’t come along to see it.” And Erlend laughed as well. “I can see you fear that Lady Ingebj?rg has invited us to this christening-ale so that we might brew a different kind of ale and invite her in. But you know very well that I’m too heavy-footed and too lighthearted to be used in making secret plans. And from Munan you’ve yanked out every tooth.”
“Oh no, we’re not afraid of secret plans from those quarters, either. Ingebj?rg Haakonsdatter must have realized by now that she squandered all rights in her own country when she married Knut Porse. It would be unwise for her to set foot inside the door here after giving her hand to that man, when we don’t want to see even his little finger within our boundaries.”
“Yes, it was clever of you to separate the boy from his mother,” said Erlend gloomily. “He’s still only a child—and now all of us Norwegian men have reason to hold our heads up high when we think about the king whom we have sworn to protect.”
“Be quiet!” said Erling Vidkunss?n in a low, dejected voice. “That’s . . . surely that’s not true.”
But the other two could see from his face that he knew it was true. Although King Magnus Eirikss?n might still be a child, he had already been infected by a sin which was unseemly to mention among Christian men. A Swedish cleric, who had been assigned to guide his book learning while he was in Sweden, had led him astray in an unmentionable manner.
Erlend said, “People are whispering on every estate and in every house around us in the north that Christ Church burned because our king is unworthy to sit in Saint Olav’s seat.”
“In God’s name, Erlend—I tell you it’s not certain this is true! And we must believe that the child, King Magnus, is innocent in God’s eyes. He can surely redeem himself. And you say that we have separated him from his mother? I say that God punishes the mother who deserts her child the way Ingebj?rg has deserted her son—and do not put your trust in such a woman, Erlend. Keep in mind that these are treacherous people you’re now setting off to meet!”
“I think they’ve been admirably loyal toward each other. But you speak as if letters from Christ himself were floating down into the lap of your robe every day—that must be why you’ve decided that you dare to be so bold as to provoke a fight with the highest authorities of the Church.”
“Now you must stop, Erlend. Talk about things that you understand, my boy, but otherwise keep quiet.” Sir Erling got to his feet; they were both standing up now, angry and red in the face.
Erlend grimaced with disgust.
“If an animal has been mistreated, we kill it and toss the corpse into a waterfall.”
“Erlend!” The regent gripped the edge of the table with both hands. “You have sons yourself . . .” he said softly. “How can you say such a thing? And you’d better watch your tongue, Erlend. Think before you speak in that place where you’re now going. And think about it twenty times over before you do anything.”
“If that’s how you act, you who rule over the affairs of the kingdom, then it doesn’t surprise me that everything has gone awry. But I don’t think you need to be afraid,” Erlend sneered. “I doubt that I’ll do anything. But what a splendid thing it has become to live in this country. . . .
“Well, you have to set out early in the morning. And my father-in-law is tired.”
The other two men remained sitting there, without speaking, after Erlend had bid them good night. He was going to sleep aboard his ship. Erling Vidkunss?n sat and turned his goblet around and around in his hand.
“Are you coughing?” he asked, just for something to say.
“Old men catch cold easily. We have so many ailments, dear sir, which you young men know nothing about,” said Lavrans with a smile.
They sat in silence again. Until Erling Vidkunss?n said, as if to himself, “Yes, everyone thinks the same—that it doesn’t bode well for this kingdom. Six years ago in Oslo, I thought it was clear that there was a firm desire to support the Crown—among the men who are born to this task by virtue of their lineage. I . . . was counting on that.”
“I think back then your perception was correct, sir. But you yourself said that we’re accustomed to rallying around our king. This time he’s merely a child—and he spends half his time in another country.”
“Yes. Sometimes I think . . . nothing is so bad that it’s not good for something. In the past, when our kings frolicked around like stallions—then there were enough fine colts to choose from; our countrymen simply had to select the one who was the best fighter.”
Lavrans gave a laugh. “Yes, well . . .”
“We spoke three years ago, Lavrans Lagmanss?n, when you returned from your pilgrimage to Sk?vde and had paid a visit to your kinsmen in G?taland.”
“I remember, sir, that you honored me by seeking me out.”
“No, no, Lavrans, you need not be so formal.” A little impatiently, Erling threw out his hands. “It was as I said,” he continued gloomily. “There’s no one here who can unite the nobles of this country. Whoever has the greatest hunger forces his way forward—there’s still some food in the trough. But those who might attempt to win power and wealth in an honorable manner, as was done in the time of our fathers, are not the ones who come forward now.”
“That seems to be true. But honor follows the banner of the chieftains.”
“Then men must think that my banner carries with it little honor,” said Erling dryly. “You have avoided everything that might have won you renown, Lavrans Lagmanss?n.”
“I’ve done so ever since I became a married man, sir. And that was at a young age; my wife was sickly and had little tolerance for the company of others. And it looks as if our lineage will not continue to thrive here in Norway. My sons died young, and only one of my brother’s sons has lived to be a man.”
Lavrans regretted that he had come to speak of this matter. Erling Vidkunss?n had endured great sorrow of his own. His daughters were healthy children and had grown to adulthood, but he too had only been allowed to keep a single son, and the boy was said to be in poor health.
But Sir Erling merely said, “And you have no close kinsmen from your mother’s lineage, either, as I recall.”
“No, no closer than the children of my grandfather’s sister. Sigurd Lodinss?n had only two daughters, and they both died giving birth to their first child—and my aunt took hers to the grave with her.”
They sat in silence again for a while.