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Kristin Lavransdatter (Kristin Lavransdatter #1-3)(234)

Author:Sigrid Undset

“In God’s name, Erlend—I tell you it’s not certain this is true! And we must believe that the child, King Magnus, is innocent in God’s eyes. He can surely redeem himself. And you say that we have separated him from his mother? I say that God punishes the mother who deserts her child the way Ingebj?rg has deserted her son—and do not put your trust in such a woman, Erlend. Keep in mind that these are treacherous people you’re now setting off to meet!”

“I think they’ve been admirably loyal toward each other. But you speak as if letters from Christ himself were floating down into the lap of your robe every day—that must be why you’ve decided that you dare to be so bold as to provoke a fight with the highest authorities of the Church.”

“Now you must stop, Erlend. Talk about things that you understand, my boy, but otherwise keep quiet.” Sir Erling got to his feet; they were both standing up now, angry and red in the face.

Erlend grimaced with disgust.

“If an animal has been mistreated, we kill it and toss the corpse into a waterfall.”

“Erlend!” The regent gripped the edge of the table with both hands. “You have sons yourself . . .” he said softly. “How can you say such a thing? And you’d better watch your tongue, Erlend. Think before you speak in that place where you’re now going. And think about it twenty times over before you do anything.”

“If that’s how you act, you who rule over the affairs of the kingdom, then it doesn’t surprise me that everything has gone awry. But I don’t think you need to be afraid,” Erlend sneered. “I doubt that I’ll do anything. But what a splendid thing it has become to live in this country. . . .

“Well, you have to set out early in the morning. And my father-in-law is tired.”

The other two men remained sitting there, without speaking, after Erlend had bid them good night. He was going to sleep aboard his ship. Erling Vidkunss?n sat and turned his goblet around and around in his hand.

“Are you coughing?” he asked, just for something to say.

“Old men catch cold easily. We have so many ailments, dear sir, which you young men know nothing about,” said Lavrans with a smile.

They sat in silence again. Until Erling Vidkunss?n said, as if to himself, “Yes, everyone thinks the same—that it doesn’t bode well for this kingdom. Six years ago in Oslo, I thought it was clear that there was a firm desire to support the Crown—among the men who are born to this task by virtue of their lineage. I . . . was counting on that.”

“I think back then your perception was correct, sir. But you yourself said that we’re accustomed to rallying around our king. This time he’s merely a child—and he spends half his time in another country.”

“Yes. Sometimes I think . . . nothing is so bad that it’s not good for something. In the past, when our kings frolicked around like stallions—then there were enough fine colts to choose from; our countrymen simply had to select the one who was the best fighter.”

Lavrans gave a laugh. “Yes, well . . .”

“We spoke three years ago, Lavrans Lagmanss?n, when you returned from your pilgrimage to Sk?vde and had paid a visit to your kinsmen in G?taland.”

“I remember, sir, that you honored me by seeking me out.”

“No, no, Lavrans, you need not be so formal.” A little impatiently, Erling threw out his hands. “It was as I said,” he continued gloomily. “There’s no one here who can unite the nobles of this country. Whoever has the greatest hunger forces his way forward—there’s still some food in the trough. But those who might attempt to win power and wealth in an honorable manner, as was done in the time of our fathers, are not the ones who come forward now.”

“That seems to be true. But honor follows the banner of the chieftains.”

“Then men must think that my banner carries with it little honor,” said Erling dryly. “You have avoided everything that might have won you renown, Lavrans Lagmanss?n.”

“I’ve done so ever since I became a married man, sir. And that was at a young age; my wife was sickly and had little tolerance for the company of others. And it looks as if our lineage will not continue to thrive here in Norway. My sons died young, and only one of my brother’s sons has lived to be a man.”

Lavrans regretted that he had come to speak of this matter. Erling Vidkunss?n had endured great sorrow of his own. His daughters were healthy children and had grown to adulthood, but he too had only been allowed to keep a single son, and the boy was said to be in poor health.