The Wreath (Kristin Lavransdatter #1)(82)
“You’ve probably heard,” said Kristin, coming over to her, “about what happened here this fall?”
“Yes, that my sister’s son has asked for your hand?”
“Do you remember,” said Kristin, “that you once said he and I might suit each other well? Except that he was much too rich and of too good a family for me?”
“I hear that Lavrans is of another mind,” said Aashild dryly. There was a sparkle in Kristin’s eye, and she smiled a little. She’ll do, thought Fru Aashild. As little as she liked it, she would oblige Erlend and give him the help he had asked for.
Kristin made up her parents’ bed for the guest, and Fru Aashild asked the young woman to sleep with her. After they lay down and the main room was quiet, Fru Aashild explained her errand.
Her heart grew strangely heavy when she saw that this child did not seem to give a thought to the sorrow she would cause her parents. Yet I lived in sorrow and torment with Baard for more than twenty years, thought Aashild. But that’s probably the way it is for all of us. Kristin didn’t even seem to have noticed how Ulvhild’s health had declined that autumn. Aashild thought it unlikely that Kristin would see her little sister alive again. But she said nothing of this. The longer Kristin could hold on to this wild joy and keep up her courage, the better it would be for her.
Kristin got up, and in the darkness she collected her jewelry in a small box, which she brought over to the bed.
Then Fru Aashild said to her, “It still seems to me, Kristin, a better idea for Erlend to ride over here when your father comes home, admit openly that he has done you a great wrong, and place his case in Lavrans’s hands.”
“Then I think Father would kill Erlend,” said Kristin.
“Lavrans wouldn’t do that if Erlend refused to draw his sword against his father-in-law,” replied Aashild.
“I don’t want Erlend to be humiliated like that,” said Kristin. “And I don’t want Father to know that Erlend touched me before he asked for my hand with honor and respect.”
“Do you think Lavrans will be less angry when he hears that you’ve fled the farm with him?” asked Aashild. “And do you think it will be any easier for him to bear? According to the law you’ll be nothing more than Erlend’s mistress as long as you live with him without your father’s consent.”
“This is a different matter,” said Kristin, “since he tried to win me as his wife but could not. I will not be considered his mistress.”
Fru Aashild was silent. She thought about having to meet Lavrans Bj?rgulfs?n when he returned home and found out that his daughter had stolen away.
Then Kristin said, “I see that you think me a bad daughter, Fru Aashild. But ever since Father came back from the ting, every day here at home has been torture for him as well as for me. It’s best for everyone if this matter is finally settled.”
They set off from J?rundgaard early the next day and reached Haugen at a little past the hour of midafternoon prayers. Erlend met them in the courtyard, and Kristin threw herself into his arms without regard for Erlend’s manservant, who had accompanied Fru Aashild and herself. Inside the house she greeted Bj?rn Gunnars?n and then Erlend’s two other men as if she knew them well. Fru Aashild could see no sign that she was either shy or afraid. And later, when they were sitting at the table and Erlend presented his plan, Kristin joined in and suggested what road they should take. She said they should ride from Haugen the following night so late that they would arrive at the gorge as the moon went down, then travel in darkness through Sil until they had passed Loptsgaard. From there they should go along the Otta River to the bridge, and then on the west side of the Otta and Laag by back roads as far as the horses could carry them. They would rest during the day at one of the spring huts there on the slopes, she said, “for as far as the law of the Holledis ting reaches, we might run into people who know me.”
“Have you thought about fodder for the horses?” asked Fru Aashild. “You can’t take feed from people’s spring huts in a year like this—if there’s any there at alt—and you know no one has any to sell here in the valley this year.”
“I’ve thought of that,” said Kristin. “You must lend us fodder and provisions for three days. That’s also the reason why we shouldn’t travel in a large group. Erlend will have to send Jon back to Husaby. In Tr?ndelag it’s been a better year, and it should be possible to get some supplies over the mountain before Christmas. There are some poor people south of the village that I’d like you to give some alms to, from Erlend and me, Fru Aashild.”
Bj?rn uttered a strangely mirthless guffaw. Fru Aashild shook her head.
But the manservant Ulv lifted his sharp, swarthy face and looked at Kristin with a particularly sly smile. “There’s never anything left over at Husaby, Kristin Lavransdatter, neither in a good year nor a bad one. But maybe things will be different when you manage the household. From your speech it sounds like you’re the wife Erlend needs.”
Kristin nodded calmly at the man and continued hastily. They would have to keep away from the main road as much as possible. And it didn’t seem advisable for them to travel via Hamar. Erlend objected that that was where Munan was waiting—there was the matter of the letter for the duchess.
“Ulv will have to leave us at Fagaberg and ride to Sir Munan while we head west toward Lake Mj?sa and ride across country and by back roads via Hadeland down to Hakedal. From there a desolate road goes south to Margretadal; I’ve heard my uncle speak of it. It’s not advisable for us to ride through Raumarike while the great wedding is taking place at Dyfrin,” she said with a laugh.