Gradually she realized that his eyesight was quite poor. The monks had done something for his eyes when he and Naakkve were at Tautra, but it hadn’t seemed to help.
He continued to be taciturn; it did no good for her to try to draw Bj?rgulf closer. She saw that he was just the same with his father. Bj?rgulf was the only one of their sons who didn’t warm to Erlend’s attention the way a meadow receives the sunlight. Only toward Naakkve was Bj?rgulf any different, but when Kristin tried to talk to Naakkve about his brother, he refused to say anything. She wondered whether Erlend had any better luck in those quarters, since Naakkve’s love for Erlend was so great.
Oh no, Erlend’s offspring readily bore witness to who their father was. She had seen that child from Lensvik when she was in Nidaros the last time. She had met Sir Baard in the Christ Church courtyard. He was coming out the door, accompanied by many men and women and servants; a maid carried the swaddled infant. Baard Aasulfss?n greeted Kristin with a nod of his head, silent and courteous, as they walked past her. His wife was not with him.
She had seen the child’s face, just a single glance. But that was enough. He looked like the tiny infant faces that she had held to her own breast.
Arne Gjavvaldss?n was with her, and he couldn’t keep from talking—that’s just the way he was. Sir Baard’s other heirs were not pleased when the child was born the previous winter. But Baard had had him baptized Aasulf. Between Erlend Nikulauss?n and Fru Sunniva there had never been any other friendship than what everyone knew; that’s what Baard claimed never to doubt. Indiscreet and reckless as Erlend was, he had probably let too much slip when he was bantering with Sunniva, and it was nothing more than her duty to warn the king’s envoys when she became suspicious. But if they had been too friendly, then Sunniva must have also known that her brother was involved in Erlend’s plans. When Haftor Graut took his own life and forfeited his salvation in prison, she was greatly distraught. No one could know how much she blamed herself during that time. Sir Baard had placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and stared at everyone as he spoke of this, said Arne.
Arne had also mentioned the matter to Erlend. One day when Kristin was up in one of the lofts, the men were standing beneath the gallery, unaware that she could hear their conversation. The Lensvik knight was overjoyed about the son his wife had given birth to the winter before; he never doubted that he himself was the father.
“Yes, well, Baard must know best about that,” Erlend had replied. She knew that tone of voice of his; now he would be standing there with lowered eyes and a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Sir Baard bore such rancor toward his kinsmen who would have been his heirs if he had died childless. But people were now saying this was unfair. “Well, the man himself must know best,” said Erlend again.
“Yes, yes, Erlend, but that boy is going to inherit more than the seven sons you have with your wife.”
“I will provide for my seven sons, Arne.”
Then Kristin went downstairs; she couldn’t bear to hear them talk anymore about this subject. Erlend was a little startled when he saw her. Then he went over and took her hand, standing behind her so that her shoulder touched his body. She understood that as he stood there, gazing down at her, he was repeating without words what he had just affirmed, as if he wanted to give her strength.
Kristin became aware that Munan was staring up at her a bit anxiously. She had apparently smiled, though not in a pleasant way. But when his mother looked down at him, the boy smiled back, hesitant and uncertain.
Impetuously she pulled him onto her lap. He was little, little, still so little, her youngest . . . not too big to be kissed and caressed by his mother. She winked one eye at him; he wanted to wink back, but try as he might, both his eyes kept winking. His mother laughed loudly, and then Munan laughed too, chortling as Kristin hugged him in her arms.
Lavrans had been sitting with the dog on his lap. They both turned toward the woods to listen.
“It’s Father!” First the dog and then the boy bounded down the steep slope.
Kristin stayed where she was for a moment. Then she stood up and walked forward to the precipice. Now they appeared on the path below: Erlend, Naakkve, Ivar, and Skule. They shouted greetings up to her, merry and boisterous.
Kristin greeted them in return. Were they on their way up to get the horses? No, Erlend replied. Ulf planned to send Sveinbj?rn after them that evening. He and Naakkve were off to hunt reindeer, and the twins had wanted to come along to see her.