“Speak no more of your sister, Ramborg—not in that manner. I wonder whether you even realize what you’re saying. Don’t you think that I fear God? Can you believe that I would be so unafraid of shame and the worst of sins, or that I wouldn’t think of my children and all my kinsmen and friends? I’m your husband, Ramborg. Don’t forget that, and don’t talk of such things to me.”
“I know you haven’t broken any of God’s commandments or breached any laws or code of honor.”
“Never have I spoken a word to your sister or touched her with my hand in any way that I cannot defend on the Day of Judgment. This I swear before God and the apostle Saint Simon.”
Ramborg nodded silently.
“Do you think your sister would have treated me as she has all these years if she thought, as you do, that I love her with sinful desire? Then you don’t know Kristin.”
“Oh, she has never thought about whether any man might desire her, except for Erlend. She hardly notices that the rest of us are flesh and blood.”
“Yes, what you say is probably true, Ramborg,” replied Simon calmly. “But then you must realize how senseless it is for you to torment me with your jealousy.”
Ramborg pulled her hands away.
“I didn’t mean to do so, Simon. But you’ve never loved me the way you love her. She is still always in your thoughts, but you seldom think of me unless you see me.”
“I’m not to blame, Ramborg, if a man’s heart is created in such a fashion that whatever is inscribed on it when it’s young and fresh is carved deeper than all the runes that are later etched.”
“Haven’t you ever heard the saying that a man’s heart is the first thing to come alive in his mother’s womb and the last thing to die inside him?” replied Ramborg quietly.
“No . . . Is there such a saying? That might well be true.” Lightly he caressed her cheek. “But if we’re going to get any sleep tonight, we should go to bed now,” he said wearily.
Ramborg fell asleep after a while. Simon slipped his arm out from under her neck, moved over to the very edge of the bed, and pulled the fur covers all the way up to his chin. His shirt was soaked through at the shoulder from her tears. He felt a bitter sympathy for his wife, but at the same time he realized with renewed bewilderment that he could no longer treat her as if she were a blind and inexperienced child. Now he had to acknowledge that Ramborg was a full-grown woman.
Gray light appeared in the windowpane; the May night was fading. He was dead tired, and tomorrow was the Sabbath. He wouldn’t go to church in the morning, even though he might need to. He had once promised Lavrans that he would never miss a mass without an exceedingly good reason. But it hadn’t helped him much to keep that promise during all these years, he thought bitterly. Tomorrow he was not going to ride to mass.
PART II
DEBTORS
CHAPTER 1
KRISTIN DID NOT hear a full account of what had happened between Erlend and Simon. Her husband told her and Bj?rgulf what Simon had said about his journey to Dyfrin, and he said that afterward they had exchanged words and ended up parting as foes. “I can’t tell you any more than that.”
Erlend was rather pale, his expression firm and resolute. She had seen him look that way only a few times before, in all the years she had been married to him. She knew that this was something he would refuse to discuss any further.
She had never liked it when Erlend countered her questions with that expression. God only knew she didn’t consider herself more than a simple woman; she would have preferred to avoid taking responsibility for anything but her own children and her household duties. And yet she had been forced to deal with so many things that seemed to her more appropriate concerns for a man to handle. But Erlend had thought it quite reasonable to let them rest on her shoulders. So it didn’t suit him to act so overbearing and to rebuff her when she wanted to know about things that he had undertaken on his own that would affect the welfare of them all.
She took this enmity between Erlend and Simon Darre greatly to heart. Ramborg was her only sister. And when she thought about losing Simon’s companionship, she realized for the first time how fond she had become of this man and how much gratitude she owed him. His loyal friendship had been the best support she had in her difficult situation.
She knew that now people would be talking about this all over the countryside: that the folks of J?rundgaard had quarreled with Simon of Formo too. Simon and Ramborg were liked and respected by everyone. But most people regarded Kristin, her husband, and her sons with suspicion and ill will; this was something she had noticed long ago. Now they would be so alone.
Kristin felt as if she would sink into the earth from sorrow and shame on that first Sunday when she arrived at the green in front of the church and saw Simon standing a short distance away, among a group of farmers. He greeted her and her family with a nod, but it was the first time he didn’t come over to shake hands and talk with them.
Ramborg did come over to her sister and took her hand. “It’s dreadful that our husbands have fallen into discord, but you and I need not quarrel because of that.” She stood on her toes to kiss Kristin so that everyone in the churchyard could see it. Kristin wasn’t sure why, but she seemed to sense that Ramborg was not as sad as she might have been. She had never liked Erlend; God only knew whether she had set her husband against him, intentionally or not.
And yet Ramborg always came over to greet her sister whenever they met at church. Ulvhild asked in a loud voice why her aunt didn’t come south to visit them anymore; then she ran over to Erlend, to cling to him and his oldest sons. Arngjerd stood quietly at her stepmother’s side, took Kristin’s hand, and looked embarrassed. Simon and Erlend, along with his sons, vigilantly avoided each other.
Kristin greatly missed her sister’s children as well. She had grown fond of the two maidens. One day when Ramborg brought her son to mass, Kristin kissed Andres after the service and then burst into tears. She loved this tiny, frail boy so dearly. She couldn’t help it, but now that she no longer had any small children of her own, it was a comfort to her to look after this little nephew from Formo and pamper him whenever his parents brought him along to J?rundgaard.
From Gaute she learned a little more about the matter because he told her what words were spoken between Erlend and Simon on that night when they met at Skindfeld-Gudrun’s hut. The longer Kristin thought about it, the more it seemed to her that Erlend was most at fault. She had felt bitter toward Simon because he ought to have known his kinsman well enough to realize that Erlend would not have betrayed and deceived his brother in any dishonorable way, no matter how many strange things he might do out of recklessness or on impulse. And whenever Erlend saw what he had done, he usually behaved like a skittish stallion that has torn its reins loose and become wild with fright at what is dragging along behind.
But Erlend never seemed to understand that sometimes other people needed to protect their own interests in the face of the mischief that he had such a rare talent for stirring up. Then Erlend would fail to guard his tongue or watch how he behaved. She remembered from her own experience, back when she was still young and tender; time after time she had felt as if he were trampling on her heart with his reckless behavior. He had driven away his own brother. Even before Gunnulf entered the monastery, he had withdrawn from them, and she knew that Erlend was to blame. He had so often offended his pious and worthy brother, even though Gunnulf had never done anything but good for Erlend, as far as she knew. Now he had pushed Simon away, and when she wanted to know what had caused this animosity between him and their only friend, Erlend merely gave her a stubborn look and said he couldn’t tell her.
She could see that he had told Naakkve more.