“No . . . but Erlend was not the one who refused to acknowledge our kinship. I was so insolent in my youth; since my father had ousted me from his lineage, I refused to beg—” He stood up abruptly and went over to where Bj?rgulf was sitting on the bench. “You see, Bj?rgulf, my foster son . . . your father . . . and Gunnulf, they treated me as a kinsman even back when we were boys—just the opposite of how my brothers and sisters at Hestnes behaved. Afterward . . . to others I never presented myself as Erlend’s kinsman because I saw that in that way I could serve him better . . . as well as his wife and all of you, my foster sons. Do you understand?” he asked earnestly, placing his hand on Bj?rgulf’s face, hiding the extinguished eyes.
“I understand.” Bj?rgulf’s reply was almost stifled behind the other man’s fingers; he nodded under Ulf’s hand.
“We understand, foster father.” Nikulaus laid his hand heavily on Ulf’s shoulder, and Gaute moved closer to the group.
Kristin felt strangely ill at ease. They seemed to be speaking of things that she could not comprehend. Then she too stepped over to the men as she said, “Be assured, Ulf, my kinsman, that all of us understand. Never have Erlend and I had a more loyal friend than you. May God bless you!”
The next day Ulf Haldorss?n set off for the north.
Over the course of the winter Bj?rgulf seemed to settle down, as far as Kristin could tell. Once again he came to the table for meals with the servants of the house, he went with them to mass, and he willingly and gladly accepted the help and services that his mother so dearly wanted to offer him.
As time passed and Kristin never heard her sons make any mention of the monastery, she realized how unspeakably reluctant she was to give up her eldest son to the life of a monk.
She couldn’t help admitting that a cloister would be the best place for Bj?rgulf. But she didn’t see how she could bear to lose Naakkve in that way. It must be true, after all, that her firstborn was somehow bound closer to her heart than her other sons.
Nor could she see that Naakkve was suited to be a monk. He did have a talent for learned games and a fondness for devotional practices; nevertheless, his mother didn’t think he was particularly disposed toward spiritual matters. He didn’t attend the parish church with any special zeal. He often missed the services, giving some meager excuse, and she knew that neither he nor Bj?rgulf confessed to their parish priest anything but the most ordinary of sins. The new priest, Sira Dag Rolfss?n, was the son of Rolf of Blakarsarv, who had been married to Ragnfrid Ivarsdatter’s cousin; for this reason he often visited his kinswoman’s estate. He was a young man about thirty years old, well educated and a good cleric, but the two oldest sons never warmed to him. With Gaute, on the other hand, he soon became good friends.
Gaute was the only one of Erlend’s sons who had made friends among the people of Sil. But none of the others had continued to be as much an outsider as Nikulaus was. He never had anything to do with the other youths. If he went to the places where young people gathered to dance or meet, he usually stood on the outskirts of the green to watch, asserting by his demeanor that he was too good to take part. But if he was so inclined, he might join in the games unasked, and then everyone saw that he was doing it to show off. He was vigorous, strong, and agile, and it was easy to provoke him to fight. But after he had defeated two or three of the most renowned opponents in the parish, people had to tolerate his presence. And if he wished to dance with a maiden, he paid no heed to her brothers or kinsmen but simply danced with the girl and walked and sat with her alone. No woman ever said no when Nikulaus Erlendss?n requested her company, which did not make people like him any better.
After his brother had gone blind, Naakkve seldom left his side, but if he went out in the evening, he acted no differently from before. For the most part he also gave up his long hunting expeditions, but that fall he had bought himself an exceedingly costly white falcon from the sheriff, and he was as eager as ever to practice his bowmanship and prowess in sports. Bj?rgulf had taught himself to play chess blind, and the brothers would often spend an entire day at the chessboard; they were both the most zealous of players.
Then Kristin heard people talking about Naakkve and a young maiden, Tordis Gunnarsdatter from Skjenne. The following summer she was staying up in the mountain pastures. Many times Naakkve was away from home at night. Kristin found out that he had been with Tordis.
The mother’s heart trembled and twisted and turned like an aspen leaf on its stem. Tordis belonged to an old and respected family; she herself was a good and innocent child. Naakkve couldn’t possibly mean to dishonor her. If the two young people forgot themselves, then he would have to make the girl his wife. Sick with anguish and shame, Kristin realized nevertheless that she would not be overly aggrieved if this should happen. Only two years ago she would never have stood for it if Tordis Gunnarsdatter were to succeed her as the mistress of J?rundgaard. The maiden’s grandfather was still alive and lived on his estate with four married sons; she herself had many siblings. She would not be a wealthy bride. And every woman of that lineage had given birth to at least one witless child. The children were either exchanged at birth or possessed by the mountain spirits; no matter how they strove to protect the women in childbed, neither baptism nor sacred incantations seemed to help. There were now two old men at Skjenne whom Sira Eirik had judged to be changelings, as well as two children who were deaf and mute. And the wood nymph had bewitched Tordis’s oldest brother when he was seventeen. Otherwise those belonging to the Skjenne lineage were a handsome lot, their livestock flourished, and good fortune followed them, but they were too numerous for their family to have any wealth.