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 J?rundgaard; 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 J?rundgaard 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 Hersteinss?n 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 Andress?n?”
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.