It could only end with Erlend coming to a full reconciliation with the king, if he had done nothing more than act overzealously in service of the king’s mother.
High treason. She had heard about the downfall of Audun Hugleikss?n; it had happened during her father’s youth. But they were terrifying misdeeds that Audun had been charged with. Her father said it was all a lie. The maiden Margret Eiriksdatter had died in the arms of the bishop of Bj?rgvin, but Audun took no part in the crusade, so he could not have sold her to the heathens. Maiden Isabel was thirteen years old, but Audun was more than fifty when he brought her home to be King Eirik’s bride. It was shameful for a Christian to pay any heed at all to such rumors as there were about that bridal procession. Her father refused to allow the ballads about Audun to be sung at home on his manor. And yet there were unheard-of things said about Audun Hestakorn. He had supposedly sold all of King Haakon’s military power to the French king and promised to sail to his aid with twelve hundred warships—and for that he had received seven barrels of gold in payment. But it had never been fully explained to the peasants of the country why Audun Hugleikss?n had to die on the gallows at Nordnes.
His son fled the country; people said he had taken service in the army of the French king. The granddaughters of the Aalhus knight, Gyrid and Signe, had left their grandfather’s execution site with his stable boy. They were to live like poor peasant wives somewhere in a mountain village in Haddingjadal.
It was a good thing, after all, that she and Erlend did not have daughters. No, she was not going to think about such matters. It was so unlikely that Erlend’s case should have a worse outcome than . . . than that of Erling Vidkunss?n and the Haftorss?ns.
Nikulaus Erlendss?n of Husaby. Oh, now she too felt that Husaby was the most beautiful manor in all of Norway.
She would go to Sir Baard and find out all she could. The royal treasurer had always been her friend. Judge Olav, as well—in the past. But Erlend had gone too far, that time when the judge decided against him in the case of his estate in town. And Olav had taken to heart the misfortune with his goddaughter’s husband.
They had no close kinsmen, neither she nor Erlend—no matter how extensive their lineage might be. Munan Baards?n no longer had great influence. He had been charged with unlawful deeds when he was sheriff of Ringerike; he was too eager in his attempts to further the position of his many children in the world—he had four from his marriage and five outside of it. And he had apparently declined greatly since Fru Katrin had died. Inge of Ry county, Julitta and her husband, Ragnrid who was married to a Swede—Erlend knew little of them. They were the remaining children of Herr Baard and Fru Aashild. There had never been friendship between Erlend and the Hestnes people since the death of Sir Baard Peters?n; Tormod of Raasvold had grown senile; and his children with Fru Gunna were all dead and his grandchildren underage.
Kristin herself had no other kinsmen in Norway from her father’s lineage than Ketil Aasmundss?n of Skog and Sigurd Kyrning, who was married to her uncle’s oldest daughter. The second daughter was a widow, and the third was a nun. All four of the men of Sundbu seemed to be involved in the case. Lavrans had become such foes with Erlend Eldjarn over the inheritance after Ivar Gjesling’s death that they had refused to see each other ever again, so Kristin did not know her aunt’s husband or his son.
The ailing monk at the friars’ monastery was Erlend’s only close kinsman. And the one who stood closest to Kristin in the world was Simon Darre, since he was married to her only sister.
Munan woke up and began to whimper. Kristin turned over in bed and placed the child to her other breast. She couldn’t take him with her to Nidaros, as uncertain as everything now stood. Perhaps this would be the last drink the poor child would ever have from his own mother’s breast. Perhaps this was the last time in this world that she would lie in bed holding a little infant . . . so good, so good . . . If Erlend was condemned to death . . . Blessed Mary, Mother of God, if she had ever for an hour or a day been impatient because of the children that God had granted to her . . . Was this to be the last kiss she ever received from a little mouth, sweet with milk?
CHAPTER 5
KRISTIN WENT TO the king’s palace the next evening, as soon as she arrived in Nidaros. Where are they holding Erlend? she wondered as she looked around at the many stone buildings. She seemed to be thinking more about how Erlend might be faring than about what she needed to find out. But she was told that the royal treasurer was not in town.
Her eyes were stinging from the long boat trip in the glittering sunshine, and her breasts were bursting with milk. After the servants who slept in the main house had fallen asleep, she got out of bed and paced the floor all night.
The next day she sent Haldor, her personal servant, over to the king’s palace. He came back shocked and distressed.
His uncle, Ulf Haldorss?n, had been taken prisoner on the fjord as he attempted to reach the monastery on the island of Holm. The royal treasurer had not yet returned.
This news also frightened Kristin terribly. Ulf had not lived at Husaby during the past year but had served as the sheriff’s deputy, residing for the most part at Skjoldvirkstad, a large share of which he now owned. What kind of matter could this be when so many men seemed to be involved? She couldn’t stop herself from thinking the worst, ill and exhausted as she now was.
By the morning of the third day, Sir Baard had still not returned home. And a message that Kristin had tried to send to her husband was not allowed through. She thought about seeking out Gunnulf at the monastery, but decided against it. She paced the floor at home, back and forth, again and again, with her eyes half-closed and burning. Now and then she felt as if she were walking in her sleep, but as soon as she lay down, fear and pain would seize hold of her and she would have to get up again, wide awake, and walk to make it bearable.
Shortly after mid-afternoon prayers Gunnulf Nikulauss?n came to see her. Kristin walked swiftly toward the monk.
“Have you seen Erlend? Gunnulf, what are they accusing him of?”
“The news is troubling, Kristin. No, they won’t allow anyone near Erlend—least of all any of us from the monastery. They think that Abbot Olav knew about his undertakings. He borrowed money from the brothers, but they swear they knew nothing about what he intended to use it for when they placed the cloister’s seal on the document. And Abbot Olav refuses to give any explanation.”
“Yes, but what is it all about? Was it the duchess who lured Erlend into this?”
Gunnulf replied, “It seems instead that they had to press hard before she would agree. Someone . . . has seen drafts of a letter, which Erlend and his friends sent to her in the spring; it’s not likely to fall into the hands of the authorities unless they can threaten Lady Ingebj?rg to part with it. And they haven’t found any drafts. But according to both the reply letter and the letter from Herr Aage Laurisen, which they seized from Borgar Trondss?n in Ve?y, it seems certain enough that she did receive such a missive from Erlend and the men who have joined forces with him in this plan. For a long time she clearly seemed to fear sending Prince Haakon to Norway; but they persuaded her that no matter what the outcome might be, King Magnus would not possibly harm the child, since they are brothers. Even if Haakon Knutss?n did not win the Crown in Norway, he would be no worse off than before. But these men were willing to risk their lives and their property to put him on the throne.”
For a long time Kristin sat in utter silence.