The Son Avenger by Sigrid Undset

Author:Sigrid Undset [Undset, Sigrid]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-307-77309-8
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2010-12-07T16:00:00+00:00

When he came into the room, his father sat there eating—he had not yet taken off either hat or cloak. Eirik paused for a moment.

“Father—cannot you be reconciled with Jörund? ’Twill be unbearable for Cecilia if you two go about here and never say a word to each other.”

“Has she begged you to ask this of me?”

“Cecilia? Can you think of such a thing! But you must see—”

“Hm. She does not speak to me either, more than she can help. She takes Jörund’s part, I believe. And maybe ’tis better so—We must wait awhile, Eirik, see how it goes. I have no great mind to be the first to hold out my hand. ’Tis not that I cannot forgive an enemy—but Jörund. If I do it once—yield to him when he is in the wrong—then I fear ’twill not be long ere he venture the same again.”

So it was of no use. Nor was what his father said untrue. He would have to wait.

Not long after, Eirik saw Berse at a Thing in Haugsvik.

He was a giant in stature and bulky of body, with a mass of silvery hair and beard, his features large and handsome, but he was marked and blind of one eye from smallpox. He sat by himself on the raised seat; in his rich kirtle he seemed to have the bosom of an old woman, and his belly rolled out upon his knees. Olav and Torgrim sat on the side bench, and for the first time it struck Eirik that after all there was a great difference between seventy years and fifty. His father looked small beside Berse, but in spite of his white hair and scarred face he seemed young and elastic, straight and well-knit. But Torgrim with his lean and loose-hung frame and shock of brown and grey-streaked hair around his lively, angular face appeared to Eirik almost like a man of his own age. Then Olav called Eirik forward.

Eirik stood before Berse, answered with respectful courtesy to the words the old man addressed to him with the utmost gravity and dignity. Then Berse made a sign that he might go.

And well it was, thought Eirik. Out in the courtyard he came upon Ragnvald Jonsson.

“What makes you grin like that?” asked Ragnvald in surprise.

Eirik gave his friend a slap between the shoulders that made him gasp; then he could contain himself no longer; he burst out laughing so that he had to hold on to Ragnvald.

As they rowed homeward Olav asked: “What think you of Berse of Eiken, my son?”

Eirik bit his lip and struggled to look serious.

Olav said: “You know, ’tis a good old stock, many gallant men—great wealth there is, too. And the maid takes after her mother; Helga was a brave woman. In every bargain there is something one would wish to alter. And here there is Berse—”

On seeing his father smile, he dared to laugh too.

“But he is as old as the hills, is Berse, and ’tis a far cry from Eiken to Hestviken.

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