He didn’t think anyone could tell from looking at him that his heart was uneasy. He lived as he always had, running his farm and managing his properties; he was merry and drank boldly in the company of friends; he went up to the mountains to hunt when he had time and spoiled his children when he was home. And never was an unkind word spoken between him and his wife. For the servants of the manor it must have looked as if the friendship between Ramborg and him was now better than it had ever been, since his wife was more even-tempered and calm, never exhibiting those fits of capriciousness and childish anger over petty matters. But secretly Simon felt awkward and uncertain in his wife’s company; he could no longer make himself treat her as if she were still half a child, teasing and pampering her. He didn’t know how he should treat her anymore.
Neither did he know how to take it when she told him one evening that she was again with child.
“I suppose you’re not particularly happy about it, are you?” he finally said, stroking her hand.
“But surely you are happy, aren’t you?” Ramborg pressed close to him, half crying and half laughing. He laughed, a little embarrassed, as he pulled her into his arms.
“I’ll be sensible this time, Simon; I won’t behave the way I did before. But you must stay with me, do you hear me? Even if all your brothers-in-law and all your brothers were to be led off to the gallows, one after the other, with their hands bound, you mustn’t leave me!”
Simon laughed sadly. “Where would I go, my Ramborg? Geirmund, that poor creature, isn’t likely to get mixed up in any weighty matters, and he’s the only one left among my friends and kinsmen that I haven’t quarreled with yet.”
“Oh . . .” Ramborg laughed too as her tears fell. “That enmity will last only until they need a helping hand and you think you can offer it. I know you too well by now, my husband.”
Two weeks later Gyrd Andress?n unexpectedly arrived at the manor. The Dyfrin knight had brought only a single man as an escort.
The meeting between the brothers took place with few words spoken. Sir Gyrd explained that he hadn’t seen his sister and brother-in-law at Kruke in all these years, and so he had decided to come north to visit them. Since he was in the valley, Sigrid felt he should also visit Formo. “And I thought, brother, that surely you couldn’t be so angry with me that you wouldn’t offer me and my servant food and lodging until tomorrow.”
“You know I will,” said Simon as he stood looking down, his face dark red. “It was . . . noble of you, Gyrd, to come to see me.”
The brothers walked through the fields after they had eaten. The grain was starting to turn pale on the slopes facing the sun, down by the river. The weather was so beautiful. The Laag now glittered gently enough, visible as little white flashes amid the alder trees. Big, glossy clouds drifted across the summer sky; sunshine filled the entire basin of the valley, and the mountain on the other side looked light blue and green in the shimmer of heat and the fleeting shadows of the clouds.
A pounding sound came from the pasture behind them as the horses trampled across the dry hillside; the herd came rushing through the alder thickets. Simon leaned over the fence. “Foal, foal . . . Bronstein’s getting old, isn’t he?” he said as Gyrd’s horse poked his head over the rail and nudged his shoulder.
“Eighteen winters.” Gyrd stroked the horse. “I thought, kinsman, that this matter . . . It wouldn’t be right if it should end the friendship between you and me,” he said without looking at his brother.
“It has grieved me every single day,” replied Simon softly. “Thank you for coming, Gyrd.”
They continued walking along the fence—Gyrd first, with Simon plodding behind. Finally they sank down on the edge of a little yellow-scorched stony embankment. A strong, sweet fragrance came from the small mounds of hay that were scattered about, where the scythe had scraped together short stalks of hay mixed with flowers between the piles of stones. Gyrd spoke of the reconciliation between King Magnus and the Haftorss?ns and their followers.
After a moment Simon asked, “Do you think it’s out of the question that any of these kinsmen of Erlend Nikulauss?n would be willing to attempt to win full reconciliation for him and clemency from the king?”
“There is not much I can do,” said Gyrd Darre. “And they have few kind words to say of him, Simon, those who might be able to do something. Oh, I have little desire to talk of this matter now. I thought he was a bold and splendid fellow, but the others think he brought his plans to such a bad end. But I’d rather not talk of this now; I know you’re so fond of that brother-in-law of yours.”