Sir Andres went with his children to the great Yule-tide feast at the King’s palace. Kristin saw all the pomp and show of the festival—they came, too, into the hall where sat King Haakon and the Lady Isabel Bruce, King Eirik’s widow. Sir Andres went forward and did homage to the King, while his children and Kristin stood somewhat behind. She thought of all Lady Aashild had told her; she called to mind that the King was near of kin to Erlend, their fathers’ mothers were sisters—and she was Erlend’s light o’ love, she had no right to stand here, least of all amid these good and worthy folk, Sir Andres’ children.
Then all at once she saw Erlend Nikulaussön—he had stepped forward in front of Queen Isabel, and stood with bowed head and with his hand upon his breast, while she spoke a few words to him; he had on the brown silk clothes that he had worn at the guild feast. Kristin stepped behind Sir Andres’ daughters.
When, some time after, Lady Angerd led her daughters up before the Queen, Kristin could not see him anywhere, but indeed she dared not lift her eyes from the floor. She wondered whether he was standing somewhere in the hall, she thought she could feel his eyes upon her—but she thought, too, that all folks looked at her as though they must know she was a liar, standing there with the golden garland on her outspread hair.
He was not in the hall where the young folk were feasted and where they danced when the tables had been taken away; this evening it was Simon with whom Kristin must dance.
Along one of the longer walls stood a fixed table, and thither the King’s men bore ale and mead and wine the whole night long. Once when Simon drew her thither and drank to her, she saw Erlend standing near, behind Simon’s back. He looked at her, and Kristin’s hand shook when she took the beaker from Simon’s hand and set it to her lips. Erlend whispered vehemently to the man who was with him—a tall comely man, well on in years and somewhat stout, who shook his head impatiently and looked as he were vexed. Soon after Simon led her back to the dance.
She knew not how long this dancing lasted—the music seemed as though ’twould never end, and each moment was long and evil to her with longing and unrest. At last it was over, and Simon drew her to the drinking board again.
A friend came forward to speak to him, and led him away a few steps, to a group of young men. And Erlend stood before her.
“I have so much I would fain say to you,” he whispered, “I know not what to say first—in Jesus’ name, Kristin, what ails you?” he asked quickly, for he saw her face grow white as chalk.