Kristin Lavransdatter Part 30

As they sat there they heard horses out in the courtyard, and a moment later Erlend rushed into the hall, beaming with joy. He had heard who had arrived. The brothers stood with their hands on each other's shoulders; Erlend asking questions and not waiting for the replies. Gunnulf had been in Nidaros for two days, so it was a wonder they hadn't met there.

"It's odd," said Erlend. "I thought the whole clergy of Christ Church would have turned out in procession to meet you when you returned home-so wise and exceedingly learned as you now must be."

"How do you know they didn't do just that?" said his brother with a laugh. "I've heard that you never venture too close to Christ Church when you're in town."

"No, my boy-I don't get too close to my Lord the Archbishop if I can avoid it. He once singed my hide," laughed Erlend insolently. "How do you like your brother-in-law, my sweet? I see you've already made friends with Kristin, brother. She thinks very little of our other kinsmen. . . ."

Not until they were about to sit down to eat that evening did Erlend realize he was still wearing his cape and fur cap and his sword at his belt.

That was the merriest evening Kristin had spent at Husaby. Erlend cajoled his brother into sitting in the high seat with her, while he himself sliced off food for him and replenished his goblet. The first time he drank a toast to Gunnulf, he got down on one knee and tried to kiss his brother's hand.

"Health and happiness, sir! We must learn to show the archbishop the proper respect, Kristin-yes, of course, you'll be the archbishop someday, Gunnulf!"

It was late when the house servants left the hall, but the two brothers and Kristin remained behind, sitting over their drink. Erlend was seated atop the table with his face turned toward his brother.

"Yes, I thought about that during my wedding," he said, pointing to his mother's chest, "and that Kristin should have it. And yet I forget things so quickly, while you forget nothing, my brother. But I think Mother's ring has come to grace a fair hand, don't you?" He placed Kristin's hand on his knee and twisted her betrothal ring around.

Gunnulf nodded. He placed the psaltery on Erlend's lap. "Sing now, brother. You used to sing so beautifully and play so well."

"That was many years ago," said Erlend more somberly. Then he ran his fingers over the strings.

Olav the king, Harald's son, rode out in the thick woods, found a tiny footprint there- and so the news is great.

Then said he, Finn Arnessn, riding before the band: Fair must be so small a foot, clad in scarlet hose.

Erlend smiled as he sang, and Kristin looked up at the priest a little shyly-to see whether the ballad of Saint Olav and Alvhild might displease him. But Gunnulf sat there smiling too, and yet she suddenly felt certain that it was not because of the ballad but because of Erlend.

"Kristin doesn't have to sing; you must be short of breath now, my dear," Erlend said, caressing her cheek. "But you you can. . . ." He handed the stringed instrument to his brother. can. . . ." He handed the stringed instrument to his brother.

It could be heard in the priest's playing and in his voice that he had learned well in school.

North over the mountains rode the king- He heard the dove lament bitterly: "The hawk took my sweetheart away from me!"Then he rode so far and wide The hawk flew over the countryside.

Into a garden the hawk then flew, Where it blossoms ever anew.

In that garden there is a hall, Draped with purple over all.

There lies a knight, seeping blood, He is our Lord so fine and good.

Beneath the blue scarlet he does lie And etched atop: Corpus domini Corpus domini.

"Where did you learn that ballad?" asked Erlend.

"Oh. Some fellows were singing it outside the hostel where I was staying in Canterbury," said Gunnulf. "And I was tempted to turn it into Norwegian. But it doesn't work so well. . . ." He sat there strumming a few notes on the strings.

"Well, brother, it's long past midnight. Kristin must need to go to bed. Are you tired, my wife?"

Kristin looked up at the men timidly; she was very pale.

"I don't know . . . But I don't think I should sleep in the bed in here."

"Are you ill?" they both asked, bending toward her.

"I don't know," she replied in the same voice. She pressed her hands to her flanks. "It feels so strange in the small of my back."

Erlend leaped up and headed for the door. Gunnulf followed. "It's shameful that you haven't yet brought the women here who will help her," he said. "Is it long before her time?"

Erlend turned bright red.

"Kristin said she didn't need anyone but her maids. They've borne children themselves, some of them." He tried to laugh.

"Have you lost your senses?" Gunnulf stared at him. "Even the poorest wench has servant women and neighbors with her when she takes to childbed. Should your wife crawl into a corner to hide and give birth like a cat? No, brother, so much a man you must be that you bring to Kristin the foremost women of the parish."

Erlend bowed his head, blushing with shame.

"You speak the truth, brother. I will ride down to Raasvold myself, and I'll send men to the other farms. You must stay with Kristin."

"Are you going away?" asked his wife, frightened, when she saw Erlend put on his outer garments.

He went over to Kristin and put his arms around her.

"I'm going to bring back the n.o.blest women for you, my Kristin. Gunnulf will stay with you while the maids get ready for you in the little house," he said, kissing her.

"Couldn't you send word to Audfinna Audunsdatter?" she pleaded. "But not until morning-I don't want her to be wakened from her sleep for my sake-she has so much work to do, I know."

Gunnulf asked his brother who Audfinna was.

"It doesn't seem to me proper," said the priest. "The wife of one of your leaseholders-"

"Kristin must have whatever she wants," said Erlend. And as Gunnulf accompanied him out and Erlend waited for his horse, he told the priest how Kristin had come to meet the farmer's wife. Gunnulf bit his lip and looked pensive.

Now there was noise and commotion on the estate; men rode off and servant women came running in to ask how their mistress was faring. Kristin said there was nothing to worry about yet, but they were to make everything ready in the little house. She would send word when she wanted to be escorted there.

Then she sat alone with the priest. She tried to talk calmly and cheerfully with him as she had before.

"You're not afraid then?" he asked with a little smile.

"Yes, of course, I'm afraid!" She looked up into his eyes-her own were dark and frightened. "Can you tell me, brother-in-law, whether they were born here at Husaby-Erlend's other children?"

"No," replied the priest quickly. "The boy was born at Hune hals, and the maiden over at Strind, on an estate that he once owned there." A moment later he asked, "Is that it? Has the thought of that other woman here with Erlend tormented you?"

"Yes," said Kristin.

"It would be difficult for you to judge Erlend's behavior in this dealing with Eline," said the priest somberly. "It wasn't easy for Erlend to know what to do. It was never easy for Erlend to know what was right. Ever since we were children, our mother thought whatever Erlend did was right, and our father thought it was wrong. But he has probably told you so much about our mother that you know all about this."

"I can only recall that he has mentioned her two or three times," said Kristin. "But I understood that he did love her. . . ."

Gunnulf said softly, "I doubt there has ever been such a love between a mother and her son. Mother was much younger than my father. But then that whole trouble with Aunt Aashild happened. Our uncle Baard died, and it was said . . . well, you know about this, don't you? Father thought the worst and said to Mother . . . Erlend once flung his knife at Father; he was only a young boy. He rushed at Father more than once in Mother's defense when he was growing up.

"When Mother fell ill, he parted with Eline Ormsdatter. Mother grew sick with sores and scabs on her skin, and Father said it was leprosy.4 He sent her away-tried to threaten her into taking a corrody He sent her away-tried to threaten her into taking a corrody 5 5 with the sisters at the hospice. Then Erlend went to get Mother and took her to Oslo-they stayed with Aashild too; she's a good healer. And the king's French doctor also said that she was not leprous. King Haakon received Erlend kindly then, and bade him seek out the grave of the holy King Erik Valdemarssn-the king's grandfather. Many people found cures for their skin afflictions there. with the sisters at the hospice. Then Erlend went to get Mother and took her to Oslo-they stayed with Aashild too; she's a good healer. And the king's French doctor also said that she was not leprous. King Haakon received Erlend kindly then, and bade him seek out the grave of the holy King Erik Valdemarssn-the king's grandfather. Many people found cures for their skin afflictions there.

"Erlend journeyed to Denmark with Mother, but she died on board his ship, south of Stad. When Erlend brought her home-well, you must remember that Father was very old, and Erlend had been a disobedient son all his days. When Erlend came to Nidaros with Mother's body, Father was staying at our town estate, and he refused to allow Erlend inside until he determined whether the boy had been infected, as he said. Erlend got on his horse and rode off, not resting until he arrived at the manor where Eline was staying with his son. After that he stood by her, in spite of everything, in spite of the fact that he had grown weary of her; and that's how he happened to bring her here to Husaby and put her in charge when he became owner of the estate. She had such a hold on him, and she said that if he deserted her after this, then he deserved to be struck by leprosy himself.

"But it must be time for your women to tend to you, Kristin." He looked down into the young, gray face that was rigid with fear and anguish.

But when he stood up to move toward the door, she cried loudly after him, "No, no, don't leave me!"

"It will soon be over," the priest consoled her, "since you are already so ill."

"That's not it!" She gripped his arm hard. "Gunnulf!"

He thought he had never seen such terror in anyone's face.

"Kristin-you should remember that this is no worse for you than for other women."

"But it is, it is." She pressed her face against the priest's arm. "For now I know that Eline and her children should be sitting here. He had promised her fidelity and marriage before I became his paramour."

"You know about that?" said Gunnulf calmly. "Erlend himself didn't know any better back then. But you must understand that he could not keep that promise; the archbishop would never have given his consent for those two to marry. You mustn't think that your marriage isn't valid. You are Erlend's rightful wife."

"Oh, I gave up all right to walk this earth long before then. And yet it's worse than I imagined. Oh, if only I might die and this child would never be born. I don't think I dare look at what I've been carrying."

"May G.o.d forgive you, Kristin-you don't know what you're saying! Would you wish for your child to die stillborn and unbaptized?"

"Yes, for that which I've carried under my heart may already belong to the Devil! It cannot be saved. Oh, if only I had drunk the potion that Eline offered me-that might have been atonement for all the sins we've committed, Erlend and I. Then this child would never have been conceived. Oh, I've thought this whole time, Gunnulf, that when I saw what I had fostered inside me, then I would come to realize that it would have been better for me to drink the leprosy potion that she offered me-rather than drive to her death the woman to whom Erlend had first bound himself."

"Kristin," said the priest, "you've lost your senses. You weren't the one who drove that poor woman to her death. Erlend couldn't couldn't keep the promise that he'd given her when he was young and knew little of law and justice. He could never have lived with her without sin. And she herself allowed another man to seduce her, and Erlend wanted to marry her to him when he heard of it. The two of you were not to blame for her taking her own life." keep the promise that he'd given her when he was young and knew little of law and justice. He could never have lived with her without sin. And she herself allowed another man to seduce her, and Erlend wanted to marry her to him when he heard of it. The two of you were not to blame for her taking her own life."

"Do you want to know how it happened that she took her life?" Kristin was now so full of despair that she spoke quite calmly. "We were together at Haugen, Erlend and I, when she arrived. She had brought along a drinking horn, and she wanted me to drink with her. I now see that she probably intended it for Erlend, but when she found me there with him, she wanted me to . . . I realized it was treachery-I saw that she didn't drink any herself when she put the horn to her lips. But I wanted to drink and I didn't care whether I lived or died when I found out that she had been with him here at Husaby the whole time. Then Erlend came in-he threatened her with his knife: 'You must drink first.' She begged and begged, and he was about to let her go. Then the Devil took hold of me; I grabbed the horn-'One of us, your two mistresses,' I said-I egged Erlend on-'You can't keep both of us,' I said. And so it was that she killed herself with Erlend's knife. But Bjrn and Aashild found a way to conceal what had happened."

"So Aunt Aashild took part in this concealment," said Gunnulf harshly. "I see . . . she played you into Erlend's hands."

"No," said Kristin vehemently. "Fru Aashild pleaded with us. She begged Erlend and she begged me so that I don't understand how I dared defy her-to step forward in as honorable a manner as was still possible, to fall at my father's feet and implore him to forgive us for what we had done. But I didn't dare. I argued that I was afraid that Father would kill Erlend-but oh, I knew full well that Father would never harm a man who put himself and his case into his hands. I argued that I was afraid he would suffer such sorrow that he would never be able to hold his head high again. But I have since shown that I was not so afraid to cause my father sorrow. You can't know, Gunnulf, what a good man my father is-no one can realize it who doesn't know him, how kind he has been to me all my days. Father has always been so fond of me. I don't want him to find out that I behaved shamelessly while he thought I was living with the sisters in Oslo and learning everything that was right and just. I even wore the clothing of a lay sister as I met with Erlend in cowsheds and lofts in town."

She looked up at Gunnulf. His face was pale and hard as stone.

"Do you see now why I'm frightened? She who took him in when he arrived, infected with leprosy . . ."

"Wouldn't you have done the same?" the priest asked gently.

"Of course, of course, of course." A shadow of that wild, sweet smile of the past flickered across the woman's ravaged face.

"But Erlend wasn't infected," said Gunnulf. "No one except Father ever thought that Mother died of leprosy."

"But I must be like a leper in G.o.d's eyes," said Kristin. She rested her face on the priest's arm which she was gripping. "Such as I am, infected with sins."

"My sister," said the priest softly, placing his other hand on her wimple. "I doubt that you are so sinful, young child, that you have forgotten that just as G.o.d can cleanse a person's flesh of leprosy, He can also cleanse your soul of sin."

"Oh, I don't know," she sobbed, hiding her face on his arm. "I don't know-and I don't feel any remorse, Gunnulf. I'm afraid, and yet . . . I was afraid when I stood at the church door with Erlend and the priest married us. I was afraid when I went inside for the wedding ma.s.s with him, with the golden crown on my flowing hair, for I didn't dare speak of shame to my father, with all my sins unatoned for; I didn't even dare confess fully to my parish priest. But as I went about here this winter and saw myself growing more hideous for each day that pa.s.sed-then I was even more frightened, for Erlend did not act toward me as he had before. I thought about those days when he would come to me in my chamber at Skog in the evenings. . . ."

"Kristin," the priest tried to lift her face, "you mustn't think about this now! Think about G.o.d, who sees your sorrow and your remorse. Turn to the gentle Virgin Mary, who takes pity on every sorrowful-"

"Don't you see? I drove another human being to take her own life!"

"Kristin," the priest said sternly. "Are you so arrogant that you think yourself capable of sinning so badly that G.o.d's mercy is not great enough? . . ."

He stroked her wimple over and over.

"Don't you remember, my sister, when the Devil tried to tempt Saint Martin? Then the Fiend asked Saint Martin whether he dared believe it when he promised G.o.d's mercy to all the sinners whose confessions he heard. And the bishop answered, 'Even to you I promise G.o.d's forgiveness at the very instant you ask for it-if only you will give up your pride and believe that His love is greater than your hatred.' "

Gunnulf continued to stroke the head of the weeping woman. All the while he thought: Was this this the way that Erlend had behaved toward his young bride? His lips grew pale and grim at the thought. the way that Erlend had behaved toward his young bride? His lips grew pale and grim at the thought.

Audfinna Audunsdatter was the first of the women to arrive. She found Kristin in the little house; Gunnulf was sitting with her, and a couple of maids were bustling about the room.

Audfinna greeted the priest with deference, but Kristin stood up and went toward her with her hand outstretched.

"I must give you thanks for coming, Audfinna. I know it's not easy for your family to be without you at home."

Gunnulf had given the woman a searching look. Now he too stood up and said, "It was good of you to come so quickly. My sister-in-law needs someone she can trust to be with her. She's a stranger here, young and inexperienced."

"Jesus, she's as white as her linen wimple," whispered Audfinna. "Do you think, sir, that I might give her a sleeping potion? She needs to rest a while before it gets much worse."

She set to work, quietly and efficiently, inspecting the bed that the servant women had prepared on the floor, and telling them to bring more cushions and straw. She put small stone vessels of herbs on the fire to heat. Then she proceeded to loosen all the ribbons and ties on Kristin's clothing, and finally she pulled out all the pins from the ill woman's hair.

"I've never seen anything so lovely," she said when the cascading, silky, golden-brown mane tumbled down around the pale face. She had to laugh. "It certainly hasn't lost much of either fullness or sheen, even though you went bareheaded a little longer than was proper."

She settled Kristin comfortably among the cushions on the floor and covered her with a blanket.

"Drink this now, and you won't feel the pains as much-and see if you can sleep a little now and then."

Gunnulf was ready to leave. He went over and bent down toward Kristin.

"You will pray for me, Gunnulf?" she implored him.

"I will pray for you until I see you with your child in your arms-and after that too," he said as he tucked her hand back under the covers.

Kristin lay there, dozing. She felt almost content. The pain in her loins came and went, came and went-but it was unlike anything she had ever felt before, so that each time it was over, she wondered whether she had just imagined it. After the anguish and dread of the early morning hours, she felt as if she were already beyond the worst fear and torment. Audfinna walked about quietly, hanging up the infant clothes, blankets, and furs to warm at the hearth-and stirring her pots a little so the room smelled of spices. Finally Kristin slept between each wave of pain; she thought she was back home in the brewhouse at Jrundgaard and was supposed to help her mother dye a large woven fabric-probably because of the steam from the ash bark and nettles.

Then the neighbor women arrived, one after another-wives from the estates in the parish and in Birgsi. Audfinna withdrew to her place with the maids. Toward evening, Kristin began to suffer terrible pain. The women told her to walk around as long as she could bear it. This tormented her greatly; the house was now crowded with women, and she had to walk around like a mare that was for sale. Now and then she had to let the women squeeze and touch her body all over, and then they would confer with each other. At last Fru Gunna from Raasvold, who was in charge of things, said that now Kristin could lie down on the floor. She divided up the women: some to sleep and some to keep watch. "This isn't going to pa.s.s quickly-but go ahead and scream, Kristin, when it hurts, and don't pay any mind to those who are sleeping. We're all here to help you, poor child," she said, gentle and kind, patting the young woman's cheek.

But Kristin lay there biting her lips to shreds and crushing the corners of the blanket in her sweaty hands. It was suffocatingly hot, but they told her that was as it should be. After each wave of pain, the sweat poured off her.