“Were you with Erlend Nikulaussön the whole night?” she asked. “ ’Twere well you went warily with that lad, Kristin—how think you Simon Andressön would like it if you came to be dear friends with him?”
Kristin found a hand-basin and began to wash herself.
“And your betrothed—think you he would like that you danced with Dumpy Munan last night? Surely we must dance with him who chooses us out on such a night of merrymaking—and Lady Groa had given us leave.”
Ingebjörg pshawed:
“Einar Einarssön and Sir Munan are friends—and besides he is wedded and old. Ugly he is to boot for that matter—but likable and hath becoming ways—see what he gave me for a remembrance of last night,” and she held forth a gold clasp which Kristin had seen in Sir Munan’s hat the day before. “But this Erlend—’tis true he was freed of the ban at Easter last year, but they say Eline Ormsdatter has been with him at Husaby since—Sir Munan says Erlend hath fled to Sira Jon at Gerdarud, and he deems ’tis because he cannot trust himself not to fall back into sin, if he meet her again—”
Kristin crossed over to the other—her face was white.
“Knew you not this?” said Ingebjörg. “That he lured a woman from her husband somewhere in Haalogaland in the North—and held her with him at his manor in despite of the King’s command and the Archbishop’s ban—they had two children together—and he was driven to fly to Sweden and hath been forced to pay in forfeit so much of his lands and goods Sir Munan says he will be a poor man in the end unless he mend his ways the sooner.”
“Think not but that I know all this,” said Kristin with a set face. “But ’tis known the matter is ended now.”
“Aye, but as to that Sir Munan said, there had been an end between them so many times before,” said Ingebjörg pensively. “But all these things can be nothing to you—you that are to wed Simon Darre. But a comely man is Erlend Nikulaussön, sure enough.”
The company from Nonneseter was to set out for home that same day after nones. Kristin had promised Erlend to meet him by the wall where they had sat the night before, if she could but find a way to come.
He was lying face downwards in the grass with his head upon his hands. As soon as he saw her, he sprang to his feet and held out both his hands, as she was about jumping from the wall.
Kristin took them, and the two stood a little, hand in hand. Then said Kristin:
“Why told you me that of Sir Björn and Lady Aashild yesterday?”
“I can see you know it all,” said Erlend and let go her hands suddenly. “What think you of me now, Kristin?
“I was eighteen then,” he went on vehemently, “ ’tis ten years since that the King, my kinsman, sent me with the mission to Vargöyhus, and we stayed the winter at Steigen—she was wife to the Lagmand, Sigurd Saksulvsön—I thought pity of her, for he was old and ugly beyond belief—I know not how it came to pass—aye, but I loved her too. I bade Sigurd crave what amends he would; I would fain have done right by him—he is a good and doughty man in many ways—but he would have it that all must go by law; he took the matter to the Thing—I was to be branded for whoredom with the wife of him whose guest I had been, you understand—
“Then it came to my father’s ears and then to King Haakon’s—he—he drove me from his court. And if you must know the whole—there is naught more now betwixt Eline and me save the children, and she cares not much for them. They are in Österdal, upon a farm I owned there; I have given it to Orm, the boy—but she will not stay with them. Doubtless she reckons that Sigurd cannot live forever—but I know not what she would be at.
“Sigurd took her back again—but she says she fared like a dog and a bondwoman in his house—so she set a tryst with me at Nidaros. ’Twas little better for me at Husaby with my father. I sold all I could lay hands on, and fled with her to Holland—Count Jacob stood my friend. Could I do aught else—she was great with my child. I knew many a man had lived even so with another’s wife and had got off cheap enough—if he were rich that is. But so it is with King Haakon, he is hardest upon his own kin. We were away from one another for a year, but then my father died and then she came back. Then there were other troubles. My tenants denied me rent and would have no speech with my bailiffs because I lay under ban—I, on my side, dealt harshly with them, and so they brought suit against me for robbery; but I had not the money to pay my household withal; and you can see I was too young to meet these troubles wisely, and my kinsfolk would not help me—save Munan—he did all his wife would let him—
“Aye, now you know it, Kristin: I have lost much both of lands and goods and of honour. True it is; you would be better served if you held fast to Simon Andressön.”
Kristin put her arms about his neck:
“We will abide by what we swore to each other yester-night, Erlend—if so be you think as I do.”
Erlend drew her close to him, kissed her and said:
“You will see too, trust me, that all things will be changed with me now—for none in the world has power on me now but you. Oh, my thoughts were many last night,
