Kristin Lavransdatter (77 page)

He hastened outside after the mass was done, but over by the horses he again ran into Lavrans, who invited him to come to Jørundgaard for dinner. Simon replied that his daughter was sick and that his sister was sitting with her. Lavrans then prayed that God might heal the child and shook his hand in farewell.

Several days later they had been working hard at Formo to bring in the harvest because the weather looked threatening. Most of the grain had been brought in by evening, when the first showers opened up. Simon ran across the courtyard in the downpour; great bands of bright sunshine broke through the clouds and lit up the main building and the mountain wall beyond. Then he caught sight of a little maiden standing in front of the door in the rain and the sunlight. She had his favorite dog with her. The dog pulled loose and leaped at Simon, dragging along a woven woman’s belt, which was tied to his collar.

He saw that the girl came from highborn family. She was bareheaded and wore no cloak, but her wine-red dress was made from foreign cloth, and it was embroidered across the breast and fastened with a gilded brooch. A silken cord held her rain-dark hair back from her brow. The girl had a lively little face with a broad forehead, a sharp chin, and big, shining eyes. Her cheeks were flaming red, as if she had been running hard.

Simon knew who the maiden must be and greeted her by name: Ramborg.

“What might be the reason for you honoring us with this visit?”

It was the dog, she told Simon, as she followed him into the house and out of the rain. The dog had gotten into the habit of running off to Jørundgaard; now she was bringing him back. Oh yes, she knew it was his dog; she had seen the animal running alongside when he rode.

Simon scolded her a bit because she had come alone. He said he would have horses saddled and escort her home himself. But first she must have some food. Ramborg ran at once over to the bed where little Arngjerd lay ill; both the child and Sigrid were pleased with their guest, for Ramborg was both lively and merry. She wasn’t like her sisters, thought Simon.

He rode with Ramborg as far as the manor gate and was then about to turn around when he met Lavrans, who had just learned that the child was not with her foster sisters at Laugarbru. He was on his way out with his servants to look for her—he was quite worried. Now Simon had to come inside, and as soon as he sat down in the hall of the main house, his shyness left him and he soon felt at home with Ragnfrid and Lavrans. They sat up late over their ale, and since the weather had grown quite fierce, he accepted their invitation to stay the night.

There were two beds in the hall. Ragnfrid made up one of them nicely for the guest, and then she asked where Ramborg should sleep—with her parents or in the other building?

“No, I want to sleep in my own bed,” said the child. “Can’t I sleep with you, Simon?” she begged.

Her father said that their guest should not be bothered with children in his bed, but Ramborg continued to insist that she wanted to sleep with Simon. Finally Lavrans said sternly that she was too big to share a bed with a strange man.

“No, I’m not, Father,” she protested. “I’m not too big, am I, Simon?”

“You’re too little,” said Simon, laughing. “Offer to sleep with me five years from now and I certainly won’t say no. But by then you’ll no doubt want a different sort of man than a hideous, fat old widower, little Ramborg!”

Lavrans didn’t seem pleased by the jest; he told her sharply to keep quiet now and go lie down in her parents’ bed.

But Ramborg shouted, “Now you have asked for me, Simon Darre, so my father could hear you!”

“So be it,” replied Simon with a laugh. “But I’m afraid he would refuse me, Ramborg.”

 

After that day the people of Formo and Jørundgaard were constantly together. Ramborg went over to the neighboring estate as often as she had the chance, tending to Arngjerd as if the child were one of her dolls, following Sigrid around and helping with household chores, sitting on Simon’s lap when they were in the main house. He fell into the habit of teasing and chattering with the maiden as he had in the old days when she and Ulvhild were like sisters to him.

Simon had lived in the valley for two years when Geirmund Hersteinssøn of Kruke asked for the hand of Sigrid Andresdatter. The family of Kruke was an old lineage, but even though some of the men had served in the retinues of kings, they had never won fame outside their own district. Yet it was the best marriage Sigrid could expect to make, and she was quite willing to marry Geirmund. Her brothers made the arrangements, and Simon was to hold his sister’s wedding on his estate.

One evening just before the wedding, when they were rushing about making preparations for the feast, Simon said in jest that he didn’t know how things would go with his household after Sigrid left. Then Ramborg said, “You’ll have to manage as best you can for two more years, Simon. At fourteen a maiden reaches a marriageable age, and then you can bring me home.”

“No,
you
I wouldn’t want,” said Simon with a laugh. “I don’t trust my ability to harness a wild maiden like you.”

“It’s the ponds with still water that have deceptive bottoms, my father says,” replied Ramborg. “I may be wild, but my sister was meek and quiet. Have you forgotten Kristin, Simon Andressøn?”

Simon jumped up from the bench, took the maiden in his arms, and raised her to his chest. He kissed her throat so hard that he left a little red mark. Horrified and astounded by his own actions, he let her go; then he grabbed Arngjerd, tossed her in the air, and hugged her in the same way so as to hide his feelings. He ran about, chasing the girls, the half-grown maiden and the little one, so that they fled up onto the tables and along the benches, until finally he lifted them up onto the crossbeam nearest the door and then ran outside.

They almost never mentioned Kristin at Jørundgaard when he was within earshot.

 

Ramborg Lavransdatter grew up to be a lovely maiden. The local gossips were busy marrying her off. One time it was Eindride Haakonssøn of the Valders-Gjeslings. They were third cousins but Lavrans and Haakon were both so wealthy that they should be able to send a letter to the Pope in Italy and obtain dispensation.
²
That would finally put an end to some of the old legal disputes that had continued ever since the old Gjeslings had sided with Duke Skule, and King Haakon had taken the Vaage estate away from them and given it to Sigurd Eldjar. Ivar Gjesling the Younger had, in turn, acquired Sundbu through marriage and the exchange of properties, but these matters had caused an endless number of quarrels and disagreements. Lavrans himself laughed at the whole thing; whatever compensation he might be able to claim for his wife wasn’t worth the parchment and wax he had used up on this matter—not to mention the toil and traveling. But he had been embroiled in the dispute ever since he had become a married man, so he couldn’t give it up.

But Eindride Gjesling celebrated his marriage to another maiden, and the people at Jørundgaard didn’t seem overly troubled by this. They were invited to the banquet, and Ramborg told everyone proudly when she came home that four men had spoken to Lavrans about her, either on their own behalf or for kinsmen. Lavrans had told them he wouldn’t agree to any betrothal for his daughter until she was old enough to have some say in the matter herself.

And that’s how things stood until the spring of the year when Ramborg was fourteen winters old. One evening she was out in the cowshed at Formo with Simon, looking at a new calf. It was white with a brown patch, and Ramborg thought the patch looked very much like a church. Simon was sitting on the edge of the grain bin, the maiden was leaning on his knees, and he was tugging at her braids.

“It looks as if you will soon be riding in a bridal procession to church, Ramborg!”

“You know quite well that my father wouldn’t refuse you if you asked for my hand,” she said. “I’m old enough now that I could be married this year.”

Simon gave a little start, but he tried to laugh.

“Are you talking about that foolishness again?”

“You know it’s not foolishness,” said the girl, looking up at him with her big eyes. “I’ve known for a long time that what I want is to move over here to Formo with you. Why have you kissed me and held me on your lap so often for all these years if you didn’t want to marry me?”

“Certainly I would like to marry you, dear Ramborg. But I’ve never thought that such a young, beautiful maiden would be intended for me. I’m seventeen years older than you; no doubt you haven’t thought about how you would end up with an old, bleary-eyed, big-bellied husband while you were a woman in the best of her years.”

“These
are
my best years,” she said, her face radiant. “And besides, you’re not so decrepit, Simon!”

“But I’m ugly too. You’d soon grow tired of kissing me!”

“You have no reason to think that,” she replied, laughing again as she tilted her face up toward him for a kiss. But he didn’t kiss her.

“I won’t take advantage of your imprudence, my sweet. Lavrans wants to take you with him to the south this summer. If you haven’t changed your mind when you return, then I will thank God and Our Lady for better fortune than I had ever expected—but I will not bind you to this, fair Ramborg.”

 

He took his dogs, his spear, and his bow and went up into the mountains that same evening. There was still a great deal of snow on the high plateau. He went to his hut to get a pair of skis and then stayed out by the lake south of the Boar Range and hunted reindeer for a week. But on the night he headed back toward the village, he grew uneasy and afraid again. It would be just like Ramborg to have said something to her father all the same. As he crossed the meadow near Jørundgaard’s mountain hut, he saw smoke and sparks coming from the roof. He thought Lavrans himself might be there, so he went over to the hut.

From the other man’s demeanor Simon thought he had guessed right. But they sat and talked about the bad summer the year before and about when might be a good time to move the livestock up to the mountain pastures; about the hunting and about Lavrans’s new falcon, which was sitting on the floor, flapping its wings over the entrails of the birds roasting on a spit over the fire. Lavrans had come up to see to his horse shed in Ilmandsdal; it was reported to have collapsed, according to several people from Alv dal who had passed through earlier that day. The two men spent most of the evening in this fashion.

Then Simon finally said, “I don’t know whether Ramborg has said anything to you about a matter which we discussed one evening?”

Lavrans said slowly, “I think you should have spoken to me first, Simon. You might imagine what kind of answer you would have received. Yes, well—I can understand how it happened that you mentioned it first to the maiden—and it will make no difference. I’m happy to give my child into the hands of a good man.”

Then there’s not much more to say, thought Simon. And yet it was strange—here he sat, a man who had never intended to come too close to any virtuous maiden or woman, and now he was bound on his honor to marry a girl he did not truly want. But he made an attempt.

“It’s not true, Lavrans, that I’ve been courting your daughter behind your back. I thought I was so old that she wouldn’t consider it anything but brotherly affection from the past if I talked with her so often. And if you think I’m too old for her, I wouldn’t be surprised nor would I allow it to end the friendship between us.”

“I’ve met few men I would rather see take a son’s place than you, Simon,” replied Lavrans. “And I would rather give Ramborg away myself. You know who would be the man to arrange her marriage after I’m gone.” That was the first time any mention was made between them of Erlend Nikulaussøn. “In many ways my son-in-law is a better man than I took him for when I first met him. But I don’t know whether he’s the right person to make a wise decision about a young maiden’s marriage. And I can tell that this is what Ramborg wants herself.”

“She thinks so now,” said Simon. “But she’s hardly more than a child, and I don’t intend to press you, if you think we should wait a little longer.”

“And I,” said Lavrans with a slight frown, “do not intend to force my daughter upon you—you mustn’t believe that.”

“
You
should know,” said Simon quickly, “that there is not another maiden in all of Norway I would rather have than Ramborg. If truth be told, Lavrans, my good fortune seems much too great if I’m to have such a fair, young, and good bride, who is rich and descended from the best lineage. And you as my father-in-law,” he added, a little self-consciously.

Lavrans chuckled with embarrassment. “You know how I feel about you. And you will deal with my child and her inheritance in such a way that her mother and I will never have cause to regret this arrangement.”

“That I promise you, with the help of God and all the saints,” said Simon.

Then they shook hands. Simon remembered the first time he had secured such an arrangement by clasping Lavrans’s hand. His heart felt small and pained in his breast.

But Ramborg
was
a better match than he could have expected. There were only the two daughters to divide up the inheritance after Lavrans’s death. He would step into the role of son with the man whom he had always respected and loved above all others he knew. And Ramborg was indeed young and sweet and lively.

Surely he must have acquired the wisdom of a grown man by now. Had he actually thought he could win Kristin as a widow even though he couldn’t have her as a maiden? After the other man had enjoyed her youth—and with a dozen stepsons of his lineage? No, then he deserved to have his brothers declare him incapable and refuse to let him handle his own affairs. Erlend would live to be as old as the stone of the mountain—that type of fellow always did.

So now they would be called brothers-in-law. They hadn’t seen each other since that night in the house in Oslo. Well, no doubt it would be even more uncomfortable for Erlend than for him to be reminded of that.