“I doubt you had intended to do me this honor, mistress, of standing outside to receive me,” he said, smiling. “But I thank you for it all the same. For you must certainly be my brother’s wife, Kristin Lavransdatter?”
“Then you must be Master Gunnulf, my brother-in-law,” she replied, blushing crimson. “Well met, sir! And welcome home to Husaby!”
“Thank you for your kind greeting,” said the priest. He bent down to kiss her cheek in the manner which she knew was the custom abroad, when kinsmen meet. “I hope I find you well, Erlend’s wife!”
Ulf Haldorss?n came out and told a servant to take the guests’ horses. Gunnulf greeted Ulf heartily.
“Are you here, kinsman? I had expected to find you now a married and settled man.”
“No, I won’t be marrying until I have to choose between a wife and the gallows,” said Ulf with a laugh, and the priest laughed too. “I’ve made the Devil as firm a promise to live unwed as you have promised the same to God.”
“Well, then you’ll be safe, no matter which way you turn, Ulf,” replied Master Gunnulf, laughing. “Since you’ll do well the day you break the promise that you’ve given. But then it is also said that a man should keep his word, even if it’s to the Devil himself.
“Isn’t Erlend home?” he asked, surprised. He offered Kristin his hand as they turned to go into the main house.
To hide her shyness, Kristin busied herself among the servant women and tended to the setting of the table. She invited Erlend’s learned brother to sit in the high seat, but since she didn’t want to sit there with him, he moved down to the bench next to her.
Now that he was sitting at her side, Kristin saw that Master Gunnulf must be at least half a head shorter than Erlend, but he was much heavier. He was stronger and stockier in build and limbs, and his broad shoulders were perfectly straight. Erlend’s shoulders drooped a bit. Gunnulf wore dark clothing, very proper for a priest, but his ankle-length surcoat, which came almost up to the neckband of his linen shirt, was fastened with enameled buttons; from his woven belt hung his eating utensils in a silver sheath.
She glanced up at the priest’s face. He had a strong, round head and a lean, round face with a broad, low forehead, somewhat prominent cheekbones, and a finely rounded chin. His nose was straight and his ears small and lovely, but his mouth was wide, and his upper lip protruded slightly, overshadowing the little patch of red made by his lower lip. Only his hair looked like Erlend’s—the thick fringe around the priest’s shaved crown was black with the luster of dry soot and it looked as silky-soft as Erlend’s hair. Otherwise he was not unlike his cousin Munan Baards?n—now Kristin could see that it might be true after all that Munan had been handsome in his youth. No, it was his Aunt Aashild whom he resembled—now she saw that he had the same eyes as Fru Aashild: amber-colored and bright beneath narrow, straight black eyebrows.
At first Kristin was a little shy of this brother-in-law who had been educated in so many fields of knowledge at the great universities of Paris and Italy. But little by little she lost her embarrassment. It was so easy to talk to Gunnulf. It didn’t seem as if he were talking about himself—least of all that he wanted to boast about his learning. But before she knew it, he had told her about so many things that Kristin felt she had never before realized what a vast world there was outside Norway. She forgot about herself and everything around her as she sat and looked up into the priest’s round, strong-boned face with the bright and delicate smile. He had crossed one leg over the other under his surcoat, and he sat there with his white, powerful hands clasped around his ankle.
Later in the afternoon, when Gunnulf came into the room to join her, he asked whether they might play a board game. Kristin had to tell him that she didn’t think there were any board games in the house.
“Aren’t there?” asked the priest in surprise. He went over to Ulf.
“Do you know, Ulf, what Erlend has done with Mother’s gold board game? The amusements that she left behind—surely he hasn’t let anyone have them?”
“They’re in a chest up in the armory,” said Ulf. “It’s more likely that he didn’t want anyone who once lived here on the estate to take them. Shall we go and get the chest, Gunnulf?”
“Yes, Erlend can’t have anything against that,” said the priest.
A little while later the two men came back with a large, carved chest. The key was in the lock, so Gunnulf opened it. On top lay a zither and another stringed instrument, the like of which Kristin had never seen before. Gunnulf called it a psaltery; he ran his fingers over the strings, but it was badly out of tune. There were also twists of silk, embroidered gloves, silken scarves, and three books with metal clasps. Finally, the priest found the board game; it was checked, with white and gilt tiles, and the markers were made of walrus tusk, white and golden.