“I think that’s something that many a man would like to know,” said Simon.
He didn’t tell Kristin, nor had he told any of the men he talked to, but he thought it unlikely that Erlend would have a large group of men behind him who had bound themselves to support him with their lives and property in such a perilous undertaking. And certainly they would never have chosen him as chieftain; all his peers knew that Erlend was unreliable. It was true that he was the kinsman of Lady Ingebj?rg and the pretender to the throne. He had enjoyed both power and respect in the last few years, he was more experienced in war than most of his peers, and he had a reputation for being able to recruit and lead soldiers. Even though he had acted unwisely so many times, he could still present his arguments in such a good and convincing manner that it was almost possible to believe he had finally learned caution from his misdeeds. Simon thought it likely that there were some who knew of Erlend’s plan and had urged him on, but he would be surprised if they had bound themselves so closely that they couldn’t now retreat; Erlend would be left standing with no one to back him.
Simon thought he could see that Erlend himself expected little else, and he seemed prepared to have to pay dearly for his risky game. “When cows are stuck in the mire, whoever owns them has to pull them out by the tail,” he had said with a laugh. Otherwise Erlend had not been able to say much in the presence of the third man.
Simon wondered why the reunion with his brother-in-law had upset him so greatly. Perhaps it was the small, confining tower room where Erlend had invited him to take a seat on the bed, which stretched from one wall to the other and filled half the room, or Erlend’s slender, dignified form as he stood at the small slit in the wall which allowed in light. Erlend looked unafraid, his eyes alert, unclouded by either fear or hope. He was a vigorous, cool, and manly figure now that all the constraining webs of flirtations and foolishness over women had been swept away from him. And yet it was women and his dealings in love that had landed him there, along with all his bold plans, which came to an end before he had even brought them to light. But Erlend didn’t seem to be thinking about that. He stood there like a man who had risked the most daring of ventures and lost, and then knew how to bear the defeat in a manly and stalwart fashion.
And his surprised and joyous gratitude when he saw his brother-in-law suited him well.
Simon had said, “Do you remember, brother-in-law, that night we kept watch at our father-in-law’s bedside? We shook hands, and Lavrans placed his hand on top. We promised each other and him that all our days we would stand together as brothers.”
“Yes.” Erlend’s smile lit up his face. “Yes, Lavrans probably never thought that you would ever be in need of my help.”
“It was more likely,” said Simon unperturbed, “that he meant you, in your circumstances, might be of support to me, and not that you should need my help.”
Erlend smiled again. “Lavrans was a wise man, Simon. And as strange as it may sound, I know he was fond of me.”
Simon thought that God knew it might indeed seem strange, but now he himself—in spite of all he knew about Erlend and in spite of everything the other man had done to him—couldn’t help feeling a brotherly tenderness toward Kristin’s husband. Then Erlend had asked about her.
Simon told him how he had found her: ill and very frightened for her husband. Olav Hermanss?n had promised to seek permission for her to come to see him as soon as Sir Baard returned home.
“Not before she’s well,” said Erlend quickly, his voice fearful. An odd, almost girlish blush spread across his tan, unshaven face. “That’s the only thing I fear, Simon—that I won’t be able to bear it when I see her!”
But after a moment he said calmly, “I know you will stand steadfast at her side if she is to be widowed this year. They won’t be poor, at any rate—she and the children—with her inheritance from Lavrans. And then she’ll have you close at hand when she goes to live at J?rundgaard.”
The day after the Feast of the Birth of Mary, the lord chancellor, Ivar Ogmundss?n, arrived in Nidaros. A court was now appointed, consisting of twelve of the king’s retainers from the northern districts, to decide Erlend Nikulauss?n’s case. Sir Finn Ogmundss?n, the lord chancellor’s brother, was chosen to present the charges against him.
In the meantime, during the summer, Haftor Olavss?n of God?y had killed himself, using the little dagger that every prisoner was allowed to keep to cut up his food. Imprisonment had apparently taken such a toll on Haftor that he hadn’t had his full wits about him. When Erlend heard of this, he told Simon that at least now he wouldn’t have to worry about what Haftor might say. And yet he was clearly shaken.