In truth, he thought it unreasonable to expect to make any gains from this meeting. Relations between Erling and the king were now quite cold. And no matter how powerful and proud the former regent might be, no matter how little he needed to fear the young king—who was in a much more difficult position than Norway’s wealthiest and most highborn man—it was still unlikely that he would want to provoke King Magnus even more by speaking on Erlend Nikulauss?n’s behalf and drawing suspicion upon himself that he might have known about Erlend’s treasonous plans. Even if Erling had taken part in them—yes, even if he was behind the whole undertaking, prepared to intervene and allow himself to be placed in charge of the realm as soon as there was once again an underaged king in the land—he would not feel bound to take any risks to help the man who had ruined the entire plan for the sake of a shameful love affair. This was something Simon almost forgot whenever he was together with Erlend and Kristin, for the two of them seemed hardly to remember it anymore. But it was true that Erlend himself was to blame for the whole endeavor resulting in nothing more than misfortune for him and the good men who had been exposed by his foolish philandering.
He must try every recourse to help her and her husband. And now he began to hope. Perhaps God and the Virgin Mary or some of the saints, whom he had always honored with offerings and alms, would support him in this undertaking too.
He arrived at Aker quite late the following evening. An overseer on the estate met him and sent servants on ahead, some with the horses and some to escort Simon’s man over to the servants’ hall. The overseer himself went up to the loft where the knight was sitting and drinking. A moment later Sir Erling came out onto the gallery and stood there as Simon climbed the stairs. Then he welcomed his guest courteously enough and led him into the chamber where Stig Haakonss?n of Mandvik was sitting with a very young man who was Erling’s only son, Bjarne Erlingss?n.
Simon was received in a friendly fashion; the servants took his outer garments and brought in food and drink. But he could see that the men had guessed why he had come—or at least Erling and Stig had—and he noticed their reticence. When Stig began to talk about how rare it was to see Simon in that part of the country, and how he wasn’t exactly wearing down the doorstep of his former kinsmen—he hadn’t even been farther south than to Dyfrin since Halfrid died—then Simon replied, “No, not until this winter.” But he had been in Oslo for several months now with his wife’s sister, Kristin Lavransdatter, who was married to Erlend Nikulauss?n.
At that they all fell silent. Then Sir Erling asked politely about Kristin and about Simon’s wife and siblings, and Simon asked about Fru Elin and Erling’s daughters, and Stig’s health, and news from Mandvik and old neighbors there.
Stig Haakonss?n was a stout, dark-haired man a few years older than Simon, the son of Halfrid Erlingsdatter’s half-brother, Sir Haakon Toress?n, and the nephew of Erling Vidkunss?n’s wife, Elin Toresdatter. He had lost his position as sheriff of Skidu and his command of the castle at Tunsberg two winters earlier when he fell out of favor with the king, but otherwise he lived well enough at Mandvik, although he was a widower with no children. Simon knew him quite well and had been on good terms with him, as he was with all the kinsmen of his first wife—although the friendship had never been overly warm. He knew what they had all thought about Halfrid’s second marriage: Sir Andres Gudmundss?n’s younger son might be both well positioned and of good lineage, but he was not an equal marriage match for Halfrid Erlingsdatter, and he was ten years younger than she was. They couldn’t understand why she had set her heart on this young man, but they allowed her to do as she wished, since she had suffered so unbearably with her first husband.
Simon had met Erling Vidkunss?n only a couple of times before, and then he had always been in the company of Fru Elin and uttered hardly a sound; no one needed to say more than “yes,” or “ah,” whenever she was in the room. Sir Erling had aged quite a bit since that time. He had grown stouter, but he still had a handsome and stately figure for he carried himself exceedingly well and it suited him that his pale, reddish-gold hair had now turned a gleaming, silvery gray.
Simon had never met the young Bjarne Erlingss?n before. He had grown up near Bj?rgvin in the house of a clergyman who was Erling’s friend—within the family it was said that this was because the father didn’t want his son living out there at Giske amidst all the prattling of the women. Erling himself didn’t spend any more time at home than he had to, but he didn’t dare take the boy along with him on his frequent journeys because Bjarne had suffered poor health in his childhood, and Erling Vidkunss?n had lost two other sons when they were small.