The Wreath (Kristin Lavransdatter #1)(84)

“I heard that everything was going downhill there,” said Eline. “I still had enough good feelings toward you from the old days, Erlend, that I thought I should look out for your well-being-though God knows you haven’t treated me or our children very kindly.”

“I’ve done what I could for the children,” said Erlend, “and you know full well that it was for their sake that I allowed you to stay at Husaby. You can’t say that you did either them or me any good,” he added, smiling spitefully. “Gissur could manage quite well without your help.”

“Yes, you’ve always trusted Gissur,” said Eline, laughing softly. “But the fact is, Eriend—now I am free. If you wish, you can keep the promise you once gave me.”

Erlend was silent.

“Do you remember,” said Eline, “the night I gave birth to your son? You promised then that you would marry me when Sigurd died.”

Erlend pushed back his hair, wet with sweat.

“Yes, I remember,” he said.

“Will you keep your word now?” asked Eline.

“No,” said Erlend.

Eline Ormsdatter looked over at Kristin, smiled slightly, and nodded. Then she turned back to Erlend.

“That was ten years ago, Eline,” he said. “Since that day we have lived together year in and year out like two people condemned to Hell.”

“That’s not entirely true,” she said with the same smile.

“It’s been years since there was anything else,” said Erlend, exhausted. “It wouldn’t help the children. And you know ... you know that I can hardly stand to be in the same room with you anymore,” he almost screamed.

“I didn’t notice that when you were home this summer,” said Eline with a telling smile. “We weren’t enemies then. Not all the time.”

“If you think that meant we were friends, go ahead and think so,” said Erlend wearily.

“Are you just going to stand here?” said Fru Aashild. She ladled some porridge into two large wooden trenchers and handed one of them to Kristin. The girl took it. “Take it over to the house. Here, Ulv, take the other one. Put them on the table; we must have supper no matter how things stand.”

Kristin and the servant went out with the dishes of food. Fru Aashild said to the others, “Come along, you two; it does no good for you to stand here barking at each other.”

“It’s best for Eline and me to talk this out with each other now,” said Erlend.

Fru Aashild said no more and left.




Over in the house Kristin put the food on the table and brought up ale from the cellar. She sat down on the outer bench, erect as a candlestick, her face calm, but she did not eat. Bj?rn and Erlend’s men didn’t have much appetite either. Only Bj?rn’s man and the servant who had come with Eline ate anything. Fru Aashild sat down and ate a little porridge. No one said a word.

Finally Eline Ormsdatter came in alone. Fru Aashild offered her a place between Kristin and herself; Eline sat down and ate something. Every once in a while the trace of a secret smile flitted across her face, and she would glance at Kristin.



After a while Fru Aashild went out to the cookhouse.

The fire had almost gone out. Erlend was sitting on the three-legged stool near the hearth, huddled up with his head on his arms. Fru Aashild went over and put her hand on his shoulder. “God forgive you, Erlend, for the way you have handled things.”

Erlend looked up. His face was tear-streaked with misery.

“She’s with child,” he said and closed his eyes.

Fru Aashild’s face flamed up; she gripped his shoulder hard. “Whose is it?” she asked bluntly and with contempt.

“Well, it isn’t mine,” said Erlend dully. “But you probably won’t believe me. No one will....” He collapsed once more.

Fru Aashild sat down in front of him at the edge of the hearth.

“You must try to pull yourself together, Erlend. It’s not so easy to believe you in this matter. Do you swear that it’s not yours?”

Erlend lifted his haggard face. “As truly as I need God’s mercy. As truly as I hope that ... that God has comforted Mother in Heaven for all that she had to endure down here. I have not touched Eline since the first time I saw Kristin!” He shouted so that Fru Aashild had to hush him.

“Then I don’t see that this is such a misfortune. You must find out who the father is and pay him to marry her.”

“I think it’s Gissur Arnfins?n, my foreman at Husaby,” said Erlend wearily. “We talked about it last fall—and since then too. Sigurd’s death has been expected for some time. Gissur was willing to marry her when she became a widow if I would give her a sufficient dowry.”

“I see,” said Fru Aashild.

Erlend went on. “She swears that she won’t have him. She will name me as the father. If I swear that I’m not ... do you think anyone will believe that I’m not swearing falsely?”

“You’ll have to dissuade her,” said Fru Aashild. “There’s no other way out. You must go home with her to Husaby tomorrow. And then you must stand firm and arrange this marriage between your foreman and Eline.”

“You’re right,” said Erlend. Then he bent forward and sobbed aloud.