“What do you think of all this, Sir Erling?”
“I think . . .” Erling sat down on the bench across from him. “I think you have told us clearly and bluntly how this matter now stands, Simon Darre. As I see it, the king can only do one of three things: He can allow Erlend to appeal the sentence that was handed down in Nidaros. Or he can appoint a new court of royal retainers and have the case against Erlend brought by a man who does not bear the title of knight, and then they will sentence Erlend to exile, with the proper time allowed for him to leave the realms of King Magnus. Or he will have to permit Erlend to be reconciled with him. And that would be the wisest solution of all.
“It seems to me that this case is now so clear, that whoever you present it to in Tunsberg will assist you and support you. Jon Haftorss?n and his brother are there. Erlend is their kinsman, just as he is the king’s. The Ogmundss?ns will realize that injustice in this matter would be folly. You should seek out the commander of the royal retinue first; ask him and Sir Paal Eirikss?n to call a meeting of the retainers who are now in town and who seem most suited to handle this case.”
“Won’t you and your kinsmen go with me, sir?” asked Simon.
“We don’t intend to join the festivities,” said Erling curtly.
“The Haftorss?ns are young, Sir Paal is old and feeble, and the others . . . You know yourself, sir, that they have some power, being in the king’s favor and such, but . . . what importance do they have compared to you, Erling Vidkunss?n? You, sir, have held more power in this country than any other chieftain since . . . I don’t know when. Behind you, sir, stand the ancient families that the people of this country have known, man after man, for as far back as the legends tell us of bad times and good times in our villages. In your father’s lineage—what is Magnus Eirikss?n or the sons of Haftor of Sudrheim compared to you? Is their wealth worth mentioning compared to yours? This advice you have given me—it will take time, and the Frenchmen are already in Oslo, and you can bet that they will not yield. It’s clear that the king is attempting to rule Norway according to foreign customs. I know that abroad there’s a tradition for the king to ignore the law when he so chooses, if he can find amenable men among the knighthood to support him. Olav Kyrning has sent letters to those noblemen he could find to join him, and the bishop has promised to write as well. But you could end this dispute and unrest at once, Erling Vid kunss?n, by seeking out King Magnus. You are the foremost descendant of all the old noblemen here in Norway; the king knows that all the others would stand behind you.”
“I can’t say that I’ve noticed that in the past,” said Erling bitterly. “You speak with great fervor on behalf of your brother-in-law, Simon. But don’t you understand that I can’t do it now? If I do, people would say . . . that I step forward the minute pressure is put on Erlend and it’s feared he might not be able to hold his tongue.”
There was silence for a moment. Then Stig asked again, “Has Erlend . . . talked?”
“No,” replied Simon impatiently. “He has kept silent. And I think he’ll continue to do so. Erling Vidkunss?n,” he implored, “he’s your kinsman—you were friends.”
Erling took a few deep, heavy breaths.
“Yes. Simon Andress?n, do you fully understand exactly what Erlend Nikulauss?n has brought upon himself? He wanted to dissolve the royal union with the Swedes—this form of rule that has never been tested before—which seems to bring more and more hardship and difficulty to Norway for each year that passes. He wanted to go back to the old, familiar rule, which we know brings good fortune and prosperity. Don’t you see that this was the plan of a wise and bold man? And don’t you see that now it would be difficult for anyone else to take up this plan after him? He has ruined the chances of the sons of Knut Porse—and there are no other men of royal lineage the people can rally around. You might argue that if Erlend had carried out his intentions and brought Prince Haakon here to Norway, then he would have played right into my hands. Other than deliver the boy into the country, these . . . young fellows . . . wouldn’t have been able to do much without the intervention of sober-minded men who could handle all the rest that needed to be done. That’s how it is—I can vouch for it. God knows I’ve reaped few rewards; rather, I’ve had to set aside the care of my own estates for the ten years I’ve endured unrest and toil, strife and torment without end—a few men in this country have understood as much, and I’ve had to be satisfied with that!” He pounded his hand hard against the table. “Don’t you understand, Simon, that the man who took such great plans onto his shoulders—and no one knows how important they might have been to the welfare of all of us here in Norway, and to our descendants for many years to come—he set them all aside, along with his breeches, on the bed of a wanton woman. God’s blood! It could be he deserves to pay the same penance Audun Hestakorn did!”