All winter long Kristin was ailing, and it seemed unlikely that the child would survive. The mother had little thought for anything but the poor infant. For this reason she listened with only half an ear to all the talk of the great news that was heard that winter. King Magnus had fallen into the worst financial straits through his attempts to win sovereignty over Skaane, and he had demanded assistance and taxes from Norway. Some of the noblemen of the Council seemed willing enough to support him in this matter. But when the king’s envoys came to Tunsberg, the royal treasurer was away, and Stig Haakonss?n, who was the chieftain of Tunsberg Fortress, barred the king’s men from entering and made ready to defend the stronghold with force. He had few men of his own, but Erling Vidkunss?n, who was his uncle through marriage and was at home on his estate at Aker, sent forty armed men to the fortress while he himself sailed west. At about the same time the king’s cousins, Jon and Sigurd Haftorss?n, threatened to oppose the king because of a court ruling that had gone against some of their men.
Erlend laughed at all this and said the Haftorss?ns had shown their youth and stupidity in this matter. Discontent with King Magnus was not rampant in Norway. The noblemen were demanding that a regent be placed in charge of the kingdom and that the royal seal be given to a Norwegian man for safekeeping, since the king, because of his dealings in Skaane, seemed to want to spend most of his time in Sweden. The townsmen and the clergy of the towns had become frightened by rumors of the king’s loans from the German city-states. The insolence of the Germans and their disregard for Norwegian laws and customs were already more than could be tolerated. And now it was said that the king had promised them even greater rights and freedoms in Norwegian towns, and this would make it impossible to bear for the Norwegian traders, who already had difficult conditions. Among the peasantry the rumor of King Magnus’s secret sin still held sway, and many of the parish priests in the countryside and the wandering monks were agreed about at least one thing: They believed this was the reason that Saint Olav’s Church in Nidaros had burned. The farmers also blamed this sin for the many misfortunes that had befallen one village after another over the past few years: sickness in the livestock, blight in the crops, which brought illness and disease to both people and beasts, and poor harvests of grain and hay. Erlend said that if the Haftorss?ns had been wise enough to hold their peace a little longer and acquire a reputation for amenable and chieftainlike conduct, then people might have remembered that they too were grandsons of King Haakon.
Eventually this unrest died down, but the result was that the king appointed Ivar Ogmundss?n as lord chancellor in Norway. Erling Vidkunss?n, Stig Haakonss?n, the Haftorss?ns, and all their supporters were threatened with charges of treason. Then they yielded and came to make peace with the king. There was a powerful man from the Uplands whose name was Ulf Sakses?n; he had taken part in the Haftorss?ns’ opposition, and he did not make peace with the king but came instead to Nidaros after Christmas. He spent a good deal of time with Erlend in town, and from him the people of the north heard about the matters, as Ulf perceived them. Kristin had a great dislike for this man; she didn’t know him, but she knew his sister Helga Saksesdatter, who was married to Gyrd Darre of Dyfrin. She was beautiful but exceedingly arrogant, and Simon didn’t care for her either, although Ramborg got along well with her. Soon after the beginning of Lent, letters arrived for the sheriffs stating that Ulf Sakses?n was to be declared an outlaw at the tings, but by that time he had already sailed away from Norway in midwinter.
That spring Erlend and Kristin were staying at their town estate during Easter, and they had brought their youngest son, Munan, with them because there was a sister at the Bakke convent who was so skilled in healing that every sick child she touched regained health, as long it was not God’s wish for the child to die.
One day shortly after Easter, Kristin came home from the convent with the infant. The manservant and maid who had accompanied her came with her into the house. Erlend was alone, lying on one of the benches. After the manservant left, and the women had taken off their cloaks, Kristin sat near the hearth with the child while the maid heated some oil which the nun had given them. Then Erlend asked from his place on the bench what Sister Ragnhild had said about the boy. Kristin replied brusquely to his questions as she unwrapped the swaddling clothes; finally she stopped talking altogether.
“Are things so bad with the boy, Kristin, that you don’t want to tell me?” he asked with some impatience.
“You’ve asked the same things before, Erlend,” replied his wife in a cold voice. “And I’ve answered you many times. But since you care so little about the boy that you can’t remember from one day to the next . . .”
“It has also happened to me, Kristin,” said Erlend as he stood up and went over to her, “that I’ve had to give you the same answer two or three times to some question you’ve asked me because you didn’t bother to remember what I’d said.”
“It was probably not about such important matters as the children’s health,” she said in the same cold voice.
“But it wasn’t about petty things, either, this past winter. They were matters that weighed heavily on my mind.”
“That’s not true, Erlend. It’s been a long time since you talked to me about those things that were most on your mind.”
“Leave us now, Signe,” said Erlend to the maid. His brow was flushed red as he turned to his wife. “I know what you’re referring to. But I won’t speak to you about that as long as your maid might hear me—even though you’re such good friends with her that you think it a small matter for her to be present when you start a quarrel with your husband and say I’m not speaking the truth.”
“One learns least from the people one lives with,” said Kristin curtly.
“It’s not easy to understand what you mean by that. I’ve never spoken unkindly to you in the presence of strangers or forgotten to show you honor and respect in front of our servants.”
Kristin burst into an oddly desolate and quavering laugh.
“You forget so well, Erlend! Ulf Haldorss?n has lived with us all these years. Don’t you remember when you had him and Haftor bring me to you in the bedchamber of Brynhild’s house in Oslo?”
Erlend sank down onto the bench, staring at his wife with his mouth agape.
But she continued, “You never thought it necessary to conceal from your servants all that was improper or disrespectful here at Husaby, or anywhere else—whether it was something shameful for yourself or for your wife.”
Erlend stayed where he was, looking at her aghast.
“Do you remember that first winter of our marriage? I was carrying Naakkve, and as things stood, it seemed likely that it would be difficult for me to demand obedience and respect from my household. Do you remember how you supported me? Do you remember when your foster father visited us with women guests we didn’t know, and his maids and serving men, and our own servants, sat across the table from us? Do you remember how Munan pulled from me every shred of dignity I might use to hide behind, and you sat there meekly and dared not stop his speech?”
“Jesus! Have you been brooding about this for fifteen years?” Then he looked up at her—his eyes seemed such a strange pale blue, and his voice was faltering and helpless. “And yet, my Kristin—it doesn’t seem to me that the two of us say unkind or harsh words to each other. . . .”
“No,” said Kristin, “and that’s why it cut even deeper into my heart that time during the Christmas celebration when you railed at me because I had spread my cape over Margret, while women from three counties stood around and listened.”