In cold, sober despair she moved between the child who lay on his bier and her ill sons. Munan was laid out in the old storeroom, where first the infant and then his father had lain. Three bodies on her manor in less than a year. Her heart was withered with anguish, but rigid and mute, she waited for the next one to die; she expected it, like an inevitable fate. She had never fully understood what she had been given when God bestowed on her so many children. The worst of it was that in some ways she had understood. But she had thought more about the troubles, the pain, the anguish, and the strife—even though she had learned over and over again, from her yearning every time a child grew out of her arms, and from her joy every time a new one lay at her breast, that her happiness was inexpressibly greater than her struggles or pain. She had grumbled because the father of her children was such an unreliable man, who gave so little thought to the descendants who would come after him. She always forgot that he had been no different when she broke God’s commandments and trampled on her own family in order to win him.
Now he had fallen from her side. And now she expected to see her sons die, one after the other. Perhaps in the end she would be left all alone, a childless mother.
There were so many things she had seen before to which she had given little thought, back when she viewed the world as if through the veil of Erlend’s and her love. No doubt she had noticed how Naakkve took it seriously that he was the firstborn son and should be the leader and chieftain of his brothers. No doubt she had also seen that he was very fond of Munan. And yet she was greatly shaken, as if by something unexpected, when she saw his terrible grief at the death of his youngest brother.
But her other sons regained their health, although it took a long time. On Easter Day she was able to go to church with four sons, but Bj?rgulf was still in bed, and Ivar was too weak to leave the house. Lavrans had grown quite tall while he was sick in bed, and in other ways it seemed as if the events of the past half year had carried him far beyond his years.
Kristin felt as if she were now an old woman. It seemed to her that a woman was young as long as she had little children sleeping in her arms at night, playing around her during the day, and demanding her care at all times. When a mother’s children have grown away from her, then she becomes an old woman.
Her new brother-in-law, Jamm?lt Halvardss?n, said that the sons of Erlend were still quite young, and she herself was little more than forty years old. Surely she would soon decide to marry again; she needed a husband to help her manage her property and raise her younger sons. He mentioned several good men who he thought would be a noble match for Kristin; she should come to ?lin for a visit in the fall, and then he would see to it that she met these men, and afterward they could discuss the matter at greater length.
Kristin smiled wanly. It was true that she wasn’t more than forty years old. If she had heard about another woman who had been widowed at such a young age, with so many half-grown children, she would have said the same as Jamm?lt: The woman should marry again and seek support from a new husband; she might even give him more children. But she herself would not.
It was just after Easter that Jamm?lt of ?lin came to J?rundgaard, and this was the second time that Kristin met her sister’s new husband. She and her sons had not attended either the betrothal feast at Dyfrin or the wedding at ?lin. The two banquets had been held within a short time of each other during the spring when she was carrying her last child. As soon as Jamm?lt heard of the death of Erlend Nikulauss?n, he had rushed to Sil; in both word and deed he had helped his wife’s sister and nephews. As best he could, he took care of everything that had to be done after the master’s death, and he handled the case against the killers, since none of Erlend’s sons had yet come of age. But back then Kristin had paid no heed to anything happening around her. Even the sentencing of Gudmund Toress?n, who was found to be the murderer of Erlend, seemed to make little impression on her.
This time she talked more with her brother-in-law, and he seemed to her a pleasant man. He was not young; he was the same age as Simon Darre. A calm and steadfast man, tall and stout, with a dark complexion and quite a handsome face, but rather stoop-shouldered. He and Gaute became good friends at once. Ever since their father’s death Naakkve and Bj?rgulf had grown closer to each other but had withdrawn from all the others. Ivar and Skule told their mother that they liked Jamm?lt, “but it seems to us that Ramborg could have shown Simon more respect by staying a widow a little longer; this new husband of hers is not his equal.” Kristin saw that these two unruly sons of hers still remembered Simon Andress?n. They had allowed him to admonish them both with sharp words and mild jests, even though the two impatient boys refused to hear a word of chastisement from their own parents except with eyes flashing with anger and hands clenched into fists.
While Jamm?lt was at J?rundgaard, Munan Baards?n also paid a visit to Kristin. There was now little remaining of the former Sir Munan the Prancer. He had been a towering and imposing figure in the old days; back then he had carried his bulky body with some amount of grace, so that he seemed taller and more stately than he was. Now rheumatism had crippled him, and his flesh hung on his shriveled body; more than anything he resembled a little goblin, with a bald pate and a meager fringe of lank white hair at the back of his head. Once a thick blue-black beard had darkened his taut, full cheeks and jaw, but now an abundance of gray stubble grew in all the slack folds of his cheeks and throat, which he had a hard time shaving with his knife. He had grown bleary-eyed, he slobbered a bit, and he was terribly plagued by a weak stomach.
He had brought along his son Inge, whom people called Fluga, after his mother. He was already an old man. The father had offered this son a great deal of help in the world; he had found him a rich match and managed to get Bishop Halvard to take an interest in Inge. Munan had been married to the bishop’s cousin Katrin. Lord Halvard wanted to help Inge become prosperous so that he wouldn’t deplete the inheritance of Fru Katrin’s children. The bishop had been given authority over the county of Hedemark, and he had then made Inge Munanss?n his envoy, so he now owned quite a few properties in Skaun and Ridabu. His mother had also bought a farm in those parts; she was now a most pious and charitable woman who had vowed to live a pure life until her death. “Well, she is neither aged nor infirm,” said Munan crossly when Kristin laughed. He had doubtless wanted to arrange things so that Brynhild would move in with him and manage his household at his estate in Hamar, but she had refused.