My Kristin, oh, my Kristin. Lord, for the sake of Your blessed Mother, have mercy. He rushed back to the church.
The maids came into the hall with the evening meal. They didn’t set up the table, but placed the food near the hearth. The men took bread and fish over to the benches, sat down in their places, not speaking and eating little; no one seemed to have an appetite. No one came to clear away the dishes after the meal, and none of the men got up to go to bed. They stayed sitting there, staring into the hearth fire, without talking.
Erlend had hidden himself in a corner near the bed; he couldn’t bear to have anyone see his face.
Master Gunnulf had lit a small oil lamp and set it on the arm of the high seat. He sat on the bench with a book in his hands, his lips moving gently, soundless and unceasing.
At one point Ulf Haldorss?n stood up, walked forward to the hearth, and picked up a piece of soft bread; he rummaged around among the pieces of firewood and selected one. Then he went over to the corner near the doorway where old man Aan was sitting. The two of them fiddled with the bread, hidden behind Ulf’s cape. Aan whittled and cut the piece of wood. The men cast a glance in their direction now and then. In a little while Ulf and Aan got up and left the hall.
Gunnulf watched them go, but said nothing. He took up his prayers once more.
Once a young boy toppled off the bench, falling to the floor in his sleep. He got up and looked around in bewilderment. Then he sighed softly and sat down again.
Ulf Haldorss?n and Aan quietly came back in and returned to the places where they had sat before. The men looked at them, but no one said a word.
Suddenly Erlend jumped up. He strode across the floor toward his servants. He was hollow-eyed, and his face was as gray as clay.
“Doesn’t anyone know what to do?” he asked. “You, Aan,” he whispered.
“It didn’t help,” replied Ulf, his voice equally quiet.
“It could be that she’s not meant to keep this child,” said Aan, wiping his nose. “Then neither sacrifices nor runes can help. It’s a shame for you, Erlend, that you should lose this good wife so soon.”
“Oh, don’t talk as if she were already dead,” implored Erlend, broken and in despair. He went back to his corner and threw himself down on the enclosed bed with his head near the footboard.
Later a man went outside and then came back in.
“The moon is up,” he said. “It will soon be morning.”
A few minutes later Fru Gunna came into the hall. She sank down onto the beggar’s bench near the door. Her gray hair was disheveled, her wimple had slid back onto her shoulders.
The men stood up and slowly moved over to her.
“One of you must come and hold her,” she said, weeping. “We have no more strength. You must go to her, Gunnulf. There’s no telling how this will end.”
Gunnulf stood up and tucked his prayer book inside his belt pouch.
“You must come too, Erlend,” said the woman.
A raw and broken howl met him in the doorway. Erlend stopped and shivered. He caught a glimpse of Kristin’s contorted, unrecognizable face among the sobbing women. She was on her knees, and they were supporting her.
Over by the door several servant women were kneeling at the benches; they were praying loudly and steadily. He threw himself down next to them and hid his head in his arms. She screamed and screamed, and each time he felt himself freeze with incredulous horror. It couldn’t possibly be like this.
He ventured a glance in her direction. Now Gunnulf was sitting on a stool in front of her and holding her under the arms. Fru Gunna was kneeling at her side, with her arms around Kristin’s waist, but Kristin was fighting her, frightened to death, and trying to push the other woman away.
“Oh no, oh no, let me go—I can’t do it—God, God, help me . . .”
“God will help you soon, Kristin,” said the priest each time. A woman held a basin of water, and after each wave of pain he would take a wet cloth and wipe the sick woman’s face—along the roots of her hair and in between her lips, from which saliva was dripping.
Then she would rest her head in Gunnulf’s arms and doze off for a moment, but the torment would instantly tear her out of her sleep again. And the priest continued to say, “Now, Kristin, you will have help soon.”
No one had any idea what time of night it was anymore. The dawn was already a gray glare in the smoke vent.
Then, after a long, mad howl of terror, everything fell silent. Erlend heard the women rushing around; he didn’t want to look up. Then he heard someone weeping loudly and he cringed again, not wanting to know.