Historical fiction; Norway -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Women -- Norway -- Fiction
Light, fluted clouds were floating over the high, pale-blue heavens, and
the sun was glittering on the dancing ripples of the water. It was quite
spring-like along the shores; the fields lay almost bare of snow, and
over the leaf-tree thickets the light had a yellow shimmer and the
shadows were blue. But in the pine-forests up on the high ridges, which
framed in the settled lands of Akersbygd, there were glimpses of snow,
and on the far blue fells to the westward, beyond the fjord, there still
showed many flashes of white.
Kristin was standing in the bow of the boat with her father, and Gyrid,
Aasmund’s wife. She gazed at the town, with all the light-hued churches
and stone buildings that rose above the swarm of grey-brown wooden
houses and bare tree-tops. The wind ruffled the skirts of her cloak and
snatched at her hair beneath her hood.
They had left the cattle out at Skog the day before, and a great longing
had come on her to be at Jörundgaard. It would be a long time still
before they could let the cattle out there—she longed with tender pity
for the lean, winter-worn cows in the dark byres; they would have to
wait and suffer a long while yet. Her mother, Ulvhild, who had slept in
her arms each night all these years, little Ramborg—she yearned so much
for them; she longed for all the folk at home, and the horses and the
dogs, for Kortelin, whom Ulvhild was to have while she was gone, and for
her father’s hawks as they sat there on their perches with their hoods
over their heads. She saw the horse-hide gloves that hung beside them to
wear when you took them on to your wrist, and the ivory staves to
scratch them with.
It was as if all the woe of the last winter had gone far away from her
and she only saw her home as it used to be. They had told her, too, that
none thought ill of her in the parish—Sira Eirik did not believe that
story; he was angry and grieved at what Bentein had done. Bentein had
fled from Hamar; ’twas said he had gone to Sweden. So things were not so
bad between them and their neighbour as she had feared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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