Simon had barely uttered a few words about what had happened before his young wife flew to his side and threw her arms around his neck. She pulled his face down to hers and pressed her cheek against his. And she crushed Erlend’s hands so tightly that he laughingly said he had never thought Ramborg could have such strong fingers.
She begged her husband to spend the night in the main house so that she could keep watch over him. She implored him, almost in tears, until Erlend offered to stay and sleep with Simon if she would send a man north to J?rundgaard to take word. It was too late for him to ride home anyway, “and a shame for Kristin to sit up so late in this cold. She waits up for me too; you’re both good wives, you daughters of Lavrans.”
While the men ate and drank, Ramborg sat close to her husband. Simon patted her arm and hand; he was both a little embarrassed and greatly touched that she showed so much concern and love for him. Simon was sleeping in the S?mund house during Lent, and when the men went over there, Ramborg went with them and put a large kettle of honey-ale to warm near the hearthstone.
The S?mund house was an ancient little hearth building, warm and snug; the timbers were so roughly hewn that there were only four beams to each wall. Right now it was cold, but Simon threw a great armful of resinous pine onto the fire and chased his dog up into the bed. The animal could lie there and warm it up for them. They pulled the log chair and the high-backed bench all the way up to the hearth and made themselves comfortable, for they were frozen to the bone after their ride, and the meal in the main house had only partially thawed them.
Erlend wrote the letter for Simon. Then they proceeded to undress. Simon’s wound began to bleed again when he moved his arms too much, so his brother-in-law helped him pull the outer tunic over his head and take off his boots. Erlend limped a bit from his wounded leg; it was stiff and tender after the ride, he said, but it was nothing. Then they sat down near the fire again, half dressed. The room had grown pleasantly warm, and there was still plenty of ale in the kettle.
“I can see that you’re taking this much too hard,” Erlend said once. They had been dozing and staring into the fire. “He was no great loss to the world, that Holmgeir.”
“That’s not what Sira Moises will think,” said Simon quietly. “He’s an old man and a good priest.”
Erlend nodded somberly.
“It’s a bad thing to have made enemies with such a man. Especially since he lives so near. And you know that I often have business in that parish.”
“Yes, well . . . This kind of thing can happen so easily—to any of us. They’ll probably sentence you to a fine of ten or twelve marks of gold. And you know that Bishop Halvard is a stern master when he has to hear the confession of an assailant, and the boy’s father is one of his priests. But you’ll get through whatever is required.”
Simon did not reply.
Erlend continued. “No doubt I’ll have to pay fines for the injuries.” He smiled to himself. “And I own no other piece of Norwegian land than the farm at Dovre.”
“How big of a farm is Haugen?” asked Simon.
“I don’t remember exactly; it says in the deed. But the people who work the land harvest only a small amount of hay. No one wants to live there; I’ve heard that the buildings are in great disrepair. You know what people say: that the dead spirits of my aunt and Herr Bj?rn haunt the place.
“But I know that I will win thanks from my wife for what I did today. Kristin is fond of you, Simon—as if you were her own brother.”
Simon’s smile was almost imperceptible as he sat there in the shadows. He had pushed the log chair back a bit and had put his hand up to shield his eyes from the heat of the flames. But Erlend was as happy as a cat in the heat. He sat close to the hearth, leaning against a corner of the bench, with one arm resting along its back and his wounded leg propped up on the opposite side.
“Yes, she had such charming words to say about it one day this past fall,” said Simon after a moment. There was an almost mocking ring to his voice.
“When our son was ill, she showed that she was a loyal sister,” he said somberly, but then that slightly jesting tone was back. “Well, Erlend, we have kept faith with each other the way we swore to do when we gave our hands to Lavrans and vowed to stand by each other as brothers.”
Yes,” said Erlend, unsuspecting. “I’m glad for what I did to day too, Simon, my brother-in-law.” They both fell silent for a while. Then Erlend hesitantly stretched out his hand to the other man. Simon took it. They clasped each other’s fingers tightly, then let go and huddled back in their seats, a little embarrassed.