Kristin guessed what the news was and shouted joyfully, “You’ve been given a son, Simon!”
“Yes.” He slapped the messenger on the shoulder as the man uttered his thanks and tucked the goblet and ring under his belt. Then Simon put his arm around the waist of his wife’s sister and spun her around. He looked so happy that Kristin had to put her hands on his shoulders; then he kissed her full on the mouth and laughed loudly.
“I see it will be the Darre lineage, after all, that will live on at Formo after you’re gone, Simon,” she said joyously.
“So be it . . . if God wills.”
When Kristin asked him if they should go to evensong together, he replied, “No, tonight I want to go alone.”
That evening he told Kristin he had heard that Erling Vidkuns s?n was supposed to be at his manor, Aker, near Tunsberg. Earlier in the day Simon had booked passage on a ship down the fjord; he wanted to talk to Sir Erling about Erlend’s case.
Kristin said very little. They had mentioned this possibility before, but avoided discussing it further—whether Sir Erling had known about Erlend’s endeavor or not. Simon said he would seek Erling Vidkunss?n’s counsel—ask him what he thought of Kristin’s plan that Simon should accompany her to meet with Lavrans’s powerful kinsmen in Sweden, to ask the help of friends and kin.
Then she said, “But you have received such great news, brother-in-law, that it seems to me it would be more reasonable for you to postpone this journey to Aker and first travel to Ringheim, to see Ramborg and your son.”
He had to turn away, he felt so weak. He had been waiting for this—whether Kristin would show some sign that she understood how he longed to see his son. But when he had regained mastery of his feelings, he said with some embarrassment, “I’ve been thinking, Kristin, that God will perhaps grant the boy better health if I can be patient and rein in my longing to see him until I’ve helped Erlend and you a little more in this matter.”
The next day Simon went out and bought rich and splendid gifts for his wife and son, as well as for all the women who had been at Ramborg’s side when she gave birth. Kristin took out a beautiful silver spoon she had inherited from her mother; this was for the infant, Andres Simonss?n. But to her sister she sent the heavy gilded silver chain, which Lavrans had once given her in her childhood along with the reliquary cross. The cross she now moved to the chain Erlend had given her as a betrothal present. The following day, around noon, Simon set sail.
In the evening the ship anchored off an island in the fjord. Simon stayed on board, lying in a sleeping bag made of pelts, with several homespun blankets spread on top; he looked up at the starry skies, where the images seemed to rock and sway as the ship pitched on the sleepily gliding swells. The water sloshed and the ice floes scraped and hammered against the sides of the vessel. It was almost pleasant to feel the cold seeping deeper and deeper into his body. It was soothing. . . .
And yet he was now certain that as bad as things had been, they would never be so again. Now that he had a son. It was not that he thought he would love the boy more than he did his daughters. But this was different. As joyful as the small maidens could make him feel whenever they came to their father with their games and laughter and chatter, and as wonderful as it felt to have them sitting on his lap with their soft hair beneath his chin—a man could not claim the same position in the succession of men among his kin if his estate and property and the memory of his deeds in this world should be transferred on the hand of his daughter to some other lineage. But now that he dared to hope—if only God would allow this infant boy to grow up—that son would follow father at ormo: Andres Gudmundss?n, Simon Andress?n, Andres Simons s?n. Then it was clear that he must be for Andres what his own father had been for him: a man of integrity, both in his secret thoughts and in his actions.
Sometimes he felt he didn’t have the strength to continue. If only he had seen a single sign that she understood. But Kristin behaved toward him as if they were actual siblings: considerate of his welfare, kind and loving and gentle. And he didn’t know how long it could last: living together in the same house in this manner. Didn’t she ever think about the fact that he couldn’t forget? Even though he was now married to her sister, he could still never forget that they had once been betrothed to live together as man and wife.
But now he had a son. Whenever he said his prayers, he had always shied away from adding any of his own words, whether wishes or words of gratitude. But Christ and Mary knew full well what he meant when he had said double the number of Pater noster s and Ave Mariaslately. He would continue to do so as long as he was away from home. And he would show his gratitude in an equally fitting and generous manner. Then perhaps he would receive help on this journey, as well.