Kristin Lavransdatter

by Sigrid Undset

  Fru Aashild took a candle, went into the storeroom, and shut the door behind them. She sat down on a cask of flour; Erlend stood with his hands stuck in his belt looking down at her.

  “You can also tell Lavrans Bjørgulfsøn that Sira Jon in Gerdarud married us before we continued on to stay with Duchess Inge bjørg Haakonsdatter in Sweden.”

  “I see,” said Fru Aashild. “Do you know whether the duchess will receive you when you arrive there?”

  “I spoke with her in Tunsberg,” said Erlend. “She greeted me as her dear kinsman and thanked me for offering her my service, either here or in Sweden. And Munan has promised to give me letters to her.”

  “Then you know,” said Fru Aashild, “that even if you can find a priest to marry you, Kristin will relinquish all right to property and inheritance from her father. And her children will not be legitimate heirs. It’s uncertain whether she will be considered your wife.”

  “Maybe not here in this country. That’s also why I want to head for Sweden. Her forefather, Laurentius Lagmand, was never married to the maiden Bengta in any other way; they never received her brother’s blessing. And yet she was considered his wife.”

  “There were no children,” said Fru Aashild. “Do you think my sons would keep their hands off their inheritance from you if Kristin were left a widow with children and there was any doubt that they were born legitimate?”

  “You do Munan an injustice,” replied Erlend. “I know little of your other children. You have no reason to be kind to them, that I know. But Munan has always been my loyal kinsman. He would like to see me married; he spoke with Lavrans on my behalf. Otherwise, by law, I can sue for the inheritance and the good name of whatever children we may have.”

  “With that you will brand their mother as your mistress,” said Fru Aashild. “But I don’t think that meek priest, Jon Helgesøn, would dare risk trouble with his bishop in order to marry you against the law.”

  “I confessed to him this summer,” said Erlend, his voice muted. “He promised then to marry us if all other means were exhausted.”

  “I see,” replied Fru Aashild. “Then you have taken a grave sin upon yourself, Erlend. Kristin was happy at home with her father and mother. A good marriage with a handsome and honorable man of good family was arranged for her.”

  “Kristin told me herself,” said Erlend, “that you said she and I might suit each other well. And that Simon Andressøn was no fit husband for her.”

  “Oh, never mind what I said or didn’t say,” snapped his aunt. “I’ve said so much in my time. I don’t think you could have had your way with Kristin so easily. You couldn’t have met very often. And I wouldn’t think she was easy to win over, that maiden.”

  “We met in Oslo,” said Erlend. “Afterward she was staying with her uncle in Gerdarud. She came out to the woods to meet me.” He looked down and said quite softly, “I had her alone to myself out there.”

  Fru Aashild sprang up. Erlend bowed his head even lower.

  “And after that . . . was she friends with you?” asked his aunt in disbelief.

  “Yes.” Erlend’s smile was wan and quivering. “We were friends after that. And she didn’t resist very strongly; but she is without blame. That was when she wanted me to take her away; she didn’t want to go back to her kinsmen.”

  “But you refused?”

  “Yes, I wanted to attempt to win her as my wife with her father’s consent.”

  “Was this long ago?” asked Fru Aashild.

  “It was a year ago, on Saint Lavrans’s Day,” replied Erlend.

  “You haven’t made much haste to ask for her hand,” said his aunt.

  “She wasn’t free of her previous betrothal,” said Erlend.

  “And since then you haven’t come too close to her?” asked Aashild.

  “We made arrangements so that we could meet several times.” Once again that quavering smile flitted across his face. “At a place in town.”

  “In God’s name,” said Fru Aashild. “I’ll help the two of you as much as I can. I see that it will be much too painful for Kristin to stay here with her parents with something like this on her conscience. There’s nothing else, is there?” she asked.

  “Not that I know of,” said Erlend curtly.

  After a pause, Fru Aashild asked, “Have you thought about the fact that Kristin has friends and kinsmen all along this valley?”

  “We must travel in secrecy as best we can,” said Erlend. “That’s why it’s important for us to get away quickly, so we can put some distance behind us before her father comes home. You have to lend us your sleigh, Aunt.”

  Aashild shrugged her shoulders. “Then there’s her uncle at Skog. What if he hears you’re celebrating a wedding with his brother’s daughter in Gerdarud?”

  “Aasmund has spoken with Lavrans on my behalf,” said Erlend. “He can’t be an accomplice, that’s true, but he’ll probably look the other way. We’ll go to the priest at night and keep on traveling by night. I imagine that Aasmund will probably tell Lavrans afterward that it’s improper for a God-fearing man like him to part us once we’ve been married by a priest. Rather, he ought to give us his blessing so that we will be legally married. You must tell Lavrans the same thing. He can state his own conditions for a reconciliation with us and demand whatever penalties he deems reasonable.”

  “I don’t think Lavrans Bjørgulfsøn will be easy to advise in this matter,” said Fru Aashild. “God and Saint Olav know that I do not like this business, nephew. But I realize that this is your last recourse if you are to repair the harm you have done to Kristin. Tomorrow I will ride to Jørundgaard myself if you’ll lend me one of your men, and I can get Ingrid to the north to look after my livestock.”

  Fru Aashild arrived at Jørundgaard the following evening just as the moonlight broke away from the last glow of the day. She saw how pale and hollow-cheeked Kristin had become when the girl came out to the courtyard to receive her guest.

  Fru Aashild sat next to the hearth and played with the two younger sisters. Secretly she watched Kristin with searching eyes as the maiden set the table. She was thin and silent. She had always been quiet, but it was a different kind of silence that had come over her now. Fru Aashild could imagine all the tension and stubborn defiance that lay behind it.

  “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 Bjørgulfsøn 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 Jørundgaard 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 Bjørn Gunnarsøn 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 all—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 Trøndelag 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.”

  Bjørn 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 Mjøsa 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.

  Erlend came over and put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned back against him, not caring about all the people who were sitting there watching.

  Fru Aashild said acidly, “Anyone might think you had eloped before.”

  And Herr Bjørn guffawed again.

  A little later Fru Aashild stood up to go to the cookhouse and prepare some food. She had started the fire out there because Erlend’s men would be sleeping in the cookhouse that night. She asked Kristin to come along, “because I want to be able to swear to Lavrans Bjørgulfsøn that the two of you were never alone for a single minute in my house,” she said crossly.

  Kristin laughed and went out with Aashild. Erlend at once came sauntering after them, pulled up a three-legged stool to the hearth and sat down. He kept getting in the women’s way. He grabbed Kristin every time she came near him as she bustled and flew around. Finally he pulled her down onto his knee.

  “It’s probably true what Ulv said, that you’re the wife I need.”

  “Oh yes,” said Aashild, both laughing and annoyed, “she will certainly serve you well. She’s the one risking everything in this venture; you’re not risking much.”

  “That’s true,” said Erlend, “but I’ve shown my willingness to go to her along the proper paths. Don’t be so angry, Aunt Aashild.”

  “I have every right to be angry,” she said. “No sooner do you get your affairs in order than you put yourself in a position where you have to run away from everything with a woman.”

  “You must remember, Aunt,” said Erlend, “that it has always been true that it’s not the worst men who get themselves into trouble for the sake of a woman. That’s what all the sagas say.”

  “Oh, God help us,” said Aashild. Her face grew soft and young. “I’ve heard that speech before, Erlend.” She took his head in her hands and ruffled his hair.

  At that moment Ulv Haldorsøn tore open the door and shut it at once behind him.

  “A guest has arrived at the farm, Erlend—the one person you would least want to see, I think.”

  “Is it Lavrans Bjørgulfsøn?” asked Erlend, jumping up.

  “Unfortunately not,” said the man. “It’s Eline Ormsdatter.”

  The door was opened from the outside; the woman who entered shoved Ulv aside and stepped into the light. Kristin looked over at Erlend. At first he seemed to wither and collapse; then he straightened up, his face dark red.

  “Where the Devil did you come from? What do you want here?”

  Fru Aashild stepped forward and said, “Come with us up to the house, Eline Ormsdatter. We have enough courtesy on this farm that we don’t receive our guests in the cookhouse.”

  “I don’t expect Erlend’s kin to greet me as a guest, Fru Aashild,” said the woman. “You asked where I came from? I come from Husaby, as you well know. I bring you greetings from Orm and Margret; they are well.”

  Erlend didn’t reply.

  “When I heard that you had asked Gissur Arnfinsøn to raise money for you, and that you were heading south again,” she went on, “I thought you would probably visit your kinsmen in Gudbrandsdal this time. I knew that you had made inquiries about the daughter of their neighbor.”

  She looked at Kristin for the first time and met the girl’s eyes. Kristin was very pale, but she gazed at the other woman with a calm and searching expression.

  Kristin was as calm as a rock. From the moment she heard who had arrived, she realized that it was the thought of Eline Ormsdatter that she had been constantly fleeing from, that she had tried to drown it out with defiance and restlessness and impatience. The whole time she had been striving not to think about whether Erlend had freed himself completely from his former mistress. Now she had been overtaken, and it was futile to fight it anymore. But she did not try to avoid it.

  She saw that Eline Ormsdatter was beautiful. She was no longer young, but she was lovely, and at one time she must have been radiantly beautiful. She had let her hood fall back; her forehead was round and smooth, her cheekbones jutted out slightly—but it was still easy to see that once she had been quite striking. Her wimpl
e covered only the back of her head; as she spoke, Eline tucked the shiny gold, wavy hair in front under the cloth. Kristin had never seen a woman with such big eyes; they were dark brown, round, and hard, but beneath the narrow, coal-black eyebrows and the long eyelashes her eyes were strangely beautiful next to her golden hair. Her skin and lips were chapped from the ride in the cold, but this did not detract from her appearance; she was much too beautiful for that. The heavy traveling clothes enshrouded her figure, but she wore them and carried herself as only a woman can who bears the most confident pride in the splendor of her own body. She was not quite as tall as Kristin, but she had such a bearing that she seemed taller than the slim, small-boned girl.

  “Has she been with you at Husaby the whole time?” Kristin asked quietly.

  “I haven’t been at Husaby,” said Erlend brusquely, his face flushing again. “I’ve been at Hestnaes for most of the summer.”

  “Here is the news I wanted to bring you, Erlend,” said Eline. “You no longer need to seek lodgings with your kinsmen and test their hospitality while I keep house for you. This autumn I became a widow.”

  Erlend stood motionless.

  “I wasn’t the one who asked you to come to Husaby to keep house last year,” he said with difficulty.

  “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, Erlend—now I am free. If you wish, you can keep the promise you once gave me.”

  Erlend was silent.