The four sons of Erlend seemed to enjoy being together on their mother’s estate, but Kristin didn’t manage to talk much with her sons. When they were discussing things among themselves, she felt as if their lives and well-being had now slipped beyond her view. The two who came from far away had left their childhood home behind, and the two who lived on the manor were on the verge of taking its management out of her hands. The gathering took place in the midst of the springtime shortages, and she saw that Gaute must have been making preparations for it by rationing the fodder more strictly than usual that winter; he had also borrowed fodder from Sir Sigurd. But he had done all these things without consulting her. And all the advice regarding Gaute’s case was also presented without including her, even though she sat in the same room with the men.
For this reason she was not surprised when Ivar came to her one day and said that Lavrans would be leaving with him when he went back to Rognheim.
Ivar Erlendss?n also told his mother on another day that he thought she should move to Rognheim with him after Gaute was married. “Signe is a more amenable daughter-in-law to live with, I think. And it can’t possibly be easy for you to give up your charge of the household when you are used to running everything.” But otherwise he seemed to be fond of Jofrid—he and all the other men. Only Sir Jamm?lt seemed to regard her with some coolness.
Kristin sat with her little grandson on her lap, thinking that it wouldn’t be easy no matter where she was. It was difficult getting old. It seemed such a short time ago that she herself was the young woman, when it was her fate that prompted the clamor of the men’s counsel and strife. Now she had been pushed into the background. Not long ago her own sons had been just like this little boy. She recalled her dream about the newborn child. During this time the thought of her own mother often came to her; she couldn’t remember her mother except as an aging and melancholy woman. But she too had once been young, when she lay and warmed herself with the heat of her own body; her mother’s body and soul had also been marked in her youth by carrying and giving birth to her children. And doubtless she hadn’t given it any more thought than Kristin had when she sat with the sweet young life at her breast—that as long as they both should live, each day would take the child farther and farther away from her arms.
“After you had a child yourself, Kristin, I thought you would understand,” her mother had once said. Now she realized that her mother’s heart had been deeply etched with memories of her daughter, memories of her thoughts about the child from before she was born and from all the years the child could not remember, memories of fears and hopes and dreams that children would never know had been dreamed on their behalf, before it was their own turn to fear and hope and dream in secret.
Finally the gathering of kinsmen split up, and some went to stay with Jamm?lt at Formo while others accompanied Sigurd over to Vaagaa. Then one day two of Gaute’s leaseholders from the south of the valley came racing into the courtyard. The sheriff was on his way north to seek out Gaute at home, and the maiden’s father and kinsmen were with him. Young Lavrans ran straight to the stable. The next evening it looked as if an army had gathered at J?rund gaard; all of Gaute’s kinsmen were there along with their armed men, and his friends from the countryside had come as well.
Then Helge of Hovland arrived in a great procession to demand his rights from the man who had abducted his daughter. Kristin caught a glimpse of Helge Duk as he rode into the courtyard alongside Sir Paal S?rkvess?n, the sheriff himself. Jofrid’s father was an older, tall, and stoop-backed man who looked quite ill; it was evident that he limped when he got off his horse. Her sister’s husband, Olav Piper, was short, wide, and thickset; both his face and hair were red.
Gaute stepped forward to meet them, his posture erect and dignified, and behind him he had an entire phalanx of kinsmen and friends. They stood in a semicircle in front of the stairs to the high loft; in the middle were the two older gentlemen holding the rank of knight: Sir Sigurd and Sir Jamm?lt. Kristin and Jofrid watched the meeting from the entryway to the weaving room, but they couldn’t hear what was said.
The men went up to the loft, and the two women retreated inside the weaving room. Neither of them felt like talking. Kristin sat down near the hearth; Jofrid paced the floor, holding her child in her arms. They continued in this way for a while; then Jofrid wrapped a blanket around the boy and left the room with him. An hour later Jamm?lt Halvardss?n came in to find his wife’s sister sitting alone, and he told her what had happened.
Gaute had offered Helge Duk sixteen marks in gold for Jofrid’s honor and for taking her by force. This was the same amount that Helge’s brother had been given in restitution for the life of his son. Gaute would then wed Jofrid with her father’s consent and provide all the proper betrothal and wedding gifts, but in return Helge would have to accept Gaute and Jofrid with full reconciliation so that she would be given the same dowry as her sisters and share with them in the inheritance. Sir Sigurd, on behalf of Gaute’s kinsmen, offered a guarantee that he would keep to this agreement. Helge Duk seemed willing to accept this offer at once, but his sons-in-law—Olav Piper and Nerid Kaaress?n, who was betrothed to Aasa—voiced objections. They said Gaute must be the most arrogant of men if he dared to think he could set his own terms for his marriage to a maiden he had shamed while she was at her brother-in-law’s manor and had then been taken by force. Or to demand that she be allowed to share the inheritance with her sisters.
It was easy to see, said Jamm?lt, that Gaute was not pleased he would have to haggle over the price for marrying a highborn maiden whom he had seduced and who had now given birth to his son. But it was also easy to see that he had learned his lessons and prayers by heart, so he didn’t have to read them out of a book.
In the midst of the discussion, as friends on both sides attempted to mediate, Jofrid came into the room with the child in her arms. Then her father broke down and could no longer hold back his tears. And so the matter was decided as she wished.
It was clear that Gaute could never have paid such a fine, but Jofrid’s dowry was set at the same amount, so things came out even. The result of the meeting was that Gaute won Jofrid but received little more than what she had brought in her sacks when she arrived at J?rundgaard. But he gave her documents for almost all that he owned as betrothal and wedding gifts, and his brothers gave their assent. One day he would acquire great riches from her—provided their marriage was not childless, said Ivar Gjesling with a laugh, and the other men laughed too. But Kristin blushed crimson because Jamm?lt sat there listening to all the coarse jests that were uttered.
The next day Gaute Erlendss?n was betrothed to Jofrid Helgesdatter, and afterward she went to church for the first time after the birth, honored as if she had been a married woman. Sira Dag said she was entitled to this. Then she went to Sundbu with the child and remained under Sir Sigurd’s protection until the wedding.