And yet the farmer who was the first to answer Erlend spoke with restraint. “I see you have found your son, Erlend, so I think you must know that we have not gathered here for any feast. And it seems strange you would jest about such a matter.”
Erlend looked down at the child, who was still asleep. His voice grew more gentle.
“The boy is ill; surely you must see that. The news he brought me from here in the parish seemed so unbelievable that I thought he must be speaking in a feverish daze.
“And some of it is nonsense, after all, I see.” Erlend frowned as he glanced at the stable door. Ulf Haldorss?n and two other men—one of them his brother-in-law—were at that moment leading out several horses.
Ulf let go of his horse and strode swiftly toward his master.
“Have you finally come, Erlend? And there’s the boy—praise be to Christ and the Virgin Mary! His mother doesn’t know he was missing. We were about to go out to look for him. The bishop released me on my sworn oath when he heard the child had set off alone for Vaagaa. How is Lavrans?” he asked anxiously.
“Thank God you’ve found the boy,” said Jardtrud, weeping. She had come out into the courtyard.
“Are you here, Jardtrud?” said Erlend. “That will be the first thing I see to: that you leave my estate, you and your cohorts. First we’ll drive off this gossiping woman, and then anyone else who has spread lies about my wife will be fined.”
“That cannot be done, Erlend,” said Ulf Haldorss?n. “Jardtrud is my lawful wife. I don’t think either she or I has any desire to stay together, but she will not leave my house until I have placed in the hands of my brothers-in-law her livestock, dowry, betrothal gifts, and wedding gifts.”
“Am I not the master of this estate?” asked Erlend, furious.
“You will have to ask Kristin Lavransdatter about that,” said Ulf. “Here she comes.”
The mistress was standing on the gallery of the new storeroom. Now she slowly came down the stairs. Without thinking, she pulled her wimple forward—it had slipped back off her head—and she smoothed her church gown, which she had worn since the day before. But her face was as motionless as stone.
Erlend rode forward to meet her, at a walking pace. Bending down a bit, he stared with fearful confusion at his wife’s gray, dead face.
“Kristin,” he implored. “My Kristin. I’ve come home to you.”
She didn’t seem to hear or see him. Then Lavrans, who was sitting in his father’s arms and had gradually woken up, slid down to the ground. The moment his feet touched the grass, the boy collapsed and he lay in a heap.
A tremor passed over his mother’s face. She leaned down and lifted the big boy in her arms, pressing his head against her throat, as if he were a little child. But his long legs hung down limply in front of her.
“Kristin, my dearest love,” begged Erlend in despair. “Oh, Kristin, I know I’ve come to you much too late . . .”
Again a tremor passed over his wife’s face.
“It’s not too late,” she said, her voice low and harsh. She stared down at her son, who lay in a swoon in her arms. “Our last child is already in the ground, and now it’s Lavrans’s turn. Gaute has been banished by the Church, and our other sons . . . But the two of us still own much that can be ruined, Erlend!”
She turned away from him and began walking across the courtyard with the child. Erlend rode after her, keeping his horse at her side.
“Kristin—Jesus, what can I do for you? Kristin, don’t you want me to stay with you now?”
“I don’t need you to do anything more for me,” said his wife in the same tone of voice. “You cannot help me, whether you stay here or you throw yourself into the Laag.”
Erlend’s sons had come out onto the gallery of the high loft. Now Gaute ran down and raced toward his mother, trying to stop her.
“Mother,” he begged. Then she gave him a look, and he halted in bewilderment.
Several farmers were standing at the bottom of the loft stairs.
“Move aside, men,” said the mistress, trying to pass them with her burden.
Soten tossed his head and danced uneasily; Erlend turned the horse halfway around, and Kolbein Jonss?n grabbed the bridle. Kristin hadn’t seen what was happening; now she turned to look over her shoulder.
“Let go of the horse, Kolbein. If he wants to ride off, then let him.”
Kolbein took a firmer grip and replied, “Don’t you see, Kristin, that it’s time for the master to stay home on his estate? You at least should realize it,” he said to Erlend.