In a little while Lady Aashild stood up to go to the kitchen-house and see to the food. She had made up the kitchen fire so that Erlend’s men could sleep there at night. She bade Kristin go with her: “for I must be able to swear to Lavrans Björgulfsön that you were never a moment alone together in my house,” she said wrathfully.
Kristin laughed and went with the Lady. Soon after, Erlend came strolling in after them, drew a stool forward to the hearth, and sat there hindering the women in their work. He caught hold of Kristin every time she came nigh him, as she hurried about her work. At last he drew her down on his knee:
“’Tis even as Ulv said, I trow; you are the housewife I need.”
“Aye, aye,” said Aashild, with a vexed laugh. “She will serve your turn well enough. ’Tis she that stakes all in this adventure—you hazard not much.”
“You speak truth,” said Erlend. “But I wot well I have shown I had the will to come to her by the right road. Be not so angry, Moster Aashild.”
“I do well to be angry,” said the lady. “Scarce have you set your house in order, but you must needs guide things so that you have to run from it all again with a woman.”
“You must bear in mind, kinswoman—so hath it ever been, that ’twas not the worst men who fell into trouble for a woman’s sake—all sagas tell us that.”
“Oh, God help us all!” said Aashild. Her face grew young and soft. “That tale have I heard before, Erlend,” she laid her hand on his head and gave his hair a little tug.
At that moment Ulv Haldorson tore open the door, and shut it quickly behind him:
“Here is come yet another guest, Erlend—the one you are least fain to see, I trow.”