It never lasted long. The shortness of breath, the black dizziness, the pain that radiated out into his limbs from his heart, which shuddered and struggled, giving a few fierce thuds and then quivering quietly again. His blood hammered in the veins of his neck.
It would pass in a few minutes. It always did after he sat still for a while. But it was happening more and more often.
Erlend had called his crews to a meeting at Ve?y on the eve of Saint Jacob’s Day, but then he stayed on at J?rundgaard a while longer to accompany Simon on a hunt for a vicious bear that had killed some of the livestock in the mountain pastures. When Erlend returned from the hunting expedition, there was a message for him. Some of his men had gotten into trouble with the townspeople, and he had to hurry north to win their release. Lavrans had business up there too, and so he decided to ride along with his son-in-law.
It was already nearing the end of Saint Olav’s Day by the time they reached the island. Erling Vidkunss?n’s ship was anchored offshore, and they met the regent at vespers in Saint Peter’s Church. He went back to the monastery with them, where Lavrans had taken lodgings. There he dined with them, sending his men down to the ship for some particularly good French wine, which he had brought along from Nidaros.
But the conversation waned as they sat drinking. Erlend was lost in his own thoughts; his eyes sparkled as they always did when he was out on some new adventure, but he seemed distracted as the others talked. Lavrans merely sipped at his wine, and Sir Erling had fallen silent.
“You look tired, kinsman,” Erlend said to him.
Yes, they had encountered stormy weather near Husastadvik the night before; he hadn’t gotten any sleep.
“And now you’ll have to ride swiftly if you’re going to reach Tunsberg by Saint Lavrans’s Day. I doubt you’ll have much peace or comfort there either. Is Master Paal with the king now?”
“Yes. Are you thinking of coming to Tunsberg?”
“If I did, it would have to be to ask the king whether he’d like to send filial greetings to his mother.” Erlend laughed. “Or whether Bishop Audfinn wants to send word to Lady Ingebj?rg.”
“Many are surprised that you’re heading for Denmark, just as the chieftains are gathering for a meeting in Tunsberg,” said Sir Erling.
“Yes, isn’t it odd how people are always surprised by me? Maybe I have a mind to see some of the folk customs I haven’t seen since I was last in Denmark—maybe even participate in a tournament. And our kinswoman has invited me, after all. No one else in her lineage here in Norway wants anything to do with her now, except Munan and myself.”
“Munan . . .” Erling frowned. Then he laughed and said, “Is there so much life left in the old boar? I’d almost thought he wouldn’t have the energy to move his bulk about anymore. So Duke Knut is organizing a tournament, is he? And is Munan going to join in the jousting?”
“Yes—it’s too bad, Erling, you can’t come along to see it.” And Erlend laughed as well. “I can see you fear that Lady Ingebj?rg has invited us to this christening-ale so that we might brew a different kind of ale and invite her in. But you know very well that I’m too heavy-footed and too lighthearted to be used in making secret plans. And from Munan you’ve yanked out every tooth.”
“Oh no, we’re not afraid of secret plans from those quarters, either. Ingebj?rg Haakonsdatter must have realized by now that she squandered all rights in her own country when she married Knut Porse. It would be unwise for her to set foot inside the door here after giving her hand to that man, when we don’t want to see even his little finger within our boundaries.”
“Yes, it was clever of you to separate the boy from his mother,” said Erlend gloomily. “He’s still only a child—and now all of us Norwegian men have reason to hold our heads up high when we think about the king whom we have sworn to protect.”
“Be quiet!” said Erling Vidkunss?n in a low, dejected voice. “That’s . . . surely that’s not true.”
But the other two could see from his face that he knew it was true. Although King Magnus Eirikss?n might still be a child, he had already been infected by a sin which was unseemly to mention among Christian men. A Swedish cleric, who had been assigned to guide his book learning while he was in Sweden, had led him astray in an unmentionable manner.
Erlend said, “People are whispering on every estate and in every house around us in the north that Christ Church burned because our king is unworthy to sit in Saint Olav’s seat.”