Kristin Lavransdatter (Kristin Lavransdatter #1-3)

Ingebj?rg also had to try on shoes, just for fun. It didn’t cost anything, said Didrek with a laugh. She bought a pair of leaf-green shoes with red heels, but she had to take them on credit; Didrek knew her, after all, as well as her family.

But Kristin could see that Didrek did not much care for this, and he was also dismayed because the tall gentleman in the traveling cape had left the loft; they had spent a long time trying on shoes. So Kristin chose a pair of shoes without heels made of thin, blue-violet leather; they were stitched with silver and rose-colored stones. But she didn’t like the green silk straps. Then Didrek said that he could change them, and he took them along to a room at the back of the loft. There he had boxes of silk ribbons and small silver buckles—things which shoemakers were actually not allowed to sell, and many of the ribbons were too wide and the buckles too big for shoes anyway.

Both Kristin and Ingebj?rg had to buy a few of these odds and ends, and by the time they had drunk a little sweet wine with Didrek and he had wrapped up their purchases in a homespun cloth, it had grown quite late, and Kristin’s purse had grown much lighter.

When they came out onto East Lane again, the sun was quite gold, and the dust from all the traffic in the town hung like a faint haze over the street. It was so warm and lovely, and people were arriving from Eikaberg with great armfuls of new foliage to decorate their houses for the holiday. Then Ingebj?rg decided that they should walk out toward Gjeita Bridge. On market days there was always so much entertainment going on in the paddocks along the river, with jugglers and fiddlers. Ingebj?rg had even heard that a whole ship full of foreign animals had arrived, and they were being displayed in cages down on the shore.

Haakon had had some German beer at Miklegaard and was now quite amenable and in good spirits, so when the maidens took him by the arm and begged so nicely, he relented, and the three of them walked over toward Eikaberg.

On the other side of the river there were only a few small farms scattered across the green slopes between the river and the steep incline. They went past the Minorites’ cloister, and Kristin’s heart shrank with shame, for she suddenly remembered that she had wanted to offer most of her silver for Arne’s soul. But she had not wanted to speak of this to the priest at Nonneseter; she was afraid of being questioned. She had thought that perhaps she could go out to visit the barefoot friars in the pastures to see whether Brother Edvin had returned—she would have liked so much to meet him. But she didn’t know how properly to approach one of the monks or to broach the topic. And now she had so little money left that she didn’t know whether she could afford a mass; maybe she would have to settle for offering a thick wax candle.

Suddenly they heard a terrible roar from countless voices out at the paddock on the shore—it was as if a storm were passing over the swarm of people gathered down there. And then the whole crowd came rushing up toward them, shrieking and hollering. Everyone was running in wild terror, and several people screamed to Haakon and the maidens that the leopards were loose.

They raced back toward the bridge, and they heard people shouting to each other that a cage had tipped over and two leopards had escaped; someone also mentioned a snake. The closer they came to the bridge, the greater the crowd. A baby fell from a woman’s arms right in front of them, and Haakon stood over the little one to protect him. A moment later Kristin and Ingebj?rg caught a glimpse of the old man far off to one side, holding the child in his arms, and then they lost sight of him.

At the narrow bridge the mob surged forward so fiercely that the maidens were forced out into a field. They saw people running along the riverbank; young men jumped into the water and began to swim, but the older people leaped into the moored boats, which became instantly overloaded.

Kristin tried to make Ingebj?rg listen to her; she screamed that they should run over to the Minorites’ cloister. The gray-cowled monks had come rushing over and were trying to gather the terrified people. Kristin was not as frightened as her friend, and they saw nothing of the wild animals, but Ingebj?rg had completely lost her head. The swarms of people surged forward again, and then were driven back from the bridge because a large crowd of men who had gone to the nearest farms to arm themselves was now headed back, some on horseback, some running. When Ingebj?rg was almost trampled by a horse, she gave a shriek and took off up the hill toward the forest. Kristin had never imagined that Ingebj?rg could run so fast—she was reminded of a hunted boar —and she ran after her so that they wouldn’t become separated.

They were deep inside the forest before Kristin managed to stop Ingebj?rg on a small pathway which seemed to lead down toward the road to Tr?laborg. They paused for a moment to catch their breath. Ingebj?rg was sniffling and crying, and she said she didn’t dare go back alone through the town and all the way out to the convent.

Kristin didn’t think it a good idea either, with so much commotion in the streets; she thought they should find a house where they might hire a boy to accompany them home. Ingebj?rg recalled a bridle path to Tr?laborg farther down near the shore, and she was certain that along the path were several houses. So they followed the path downhill.

Distressed as they both were, it seemed to them that they walked for a long time before they finally saw a farm in the middle of a field. In the courtyard they found a group of men sitting at a table beneath some ash trees, drinking. A woman went back and forth, bringing pitchers out to them. She gave the two maidens in convent attire a surprised and annoyed look, and none of the men seemed to want to accompany them when Kristin explained their need. But finally two young fellows stood up and said they would escort the girls to Nonneseter if Kristin would pay them an ?rtug.2

She could tell from their speech that they weren’t Norwegian, but they seemed to be decent men. She thought their demand shamefully exorbitant, but Ingebj?rg was scared out of her wits and she didn’t think they should walk home alone so late in the day, so she agreed.

No sooner had they come out onto the forest path than the men drew aside and began talking to each other. Kristin was upset by this, but she didn’t want to show her apprehension, so she spoke to them calmly, told them about the leopards, and asked them where they were from. She also looked around, pretending that at any minute she expected to meet the servants who had been escorting them; she talked about them as if they were a large group. Gradually the men said less and less, and she understood very little of their language anyway.

After a while Kristin noticed that they were not headed the way she had come with Ingebj?rg; the path led in a different direction, more to the north, and she thought they had already gone much too far. Deep inside her, terror was smoldering, but she dared not let it slip into her thoughts. She felt oddly strengthened having Ingebj?rg along; the girl was so foolish that Kristin realized she would have to handle things for both of them. Under her cloak she pulled out the reliquary cross that her father had given her, clasped her hand around it, and prayed with all her heart that they might meet up with someone soon, as she tried to gather her courage and pretend that nothing was wrong.

A moment later she saw that the path led out onto a road, and at that spot there was a clearing. The bay and the town lay far below them. The men had led them astray, either willfully or because they were not familiar with the paths. They were high up on the slope and far north of Gjeita Bridge, which Kristin could see. The road they had reached seemed to lead in that direction.

Then she stopped, took out her purse, and began to count out the ten penninger into her hand.

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