A Queen Named Victory

Chapter Four

Ingrid's fingers fumbled through her braids until she stopped at another knot. She groaned and restarted the braid again. Her cheeks reddened when she noticed a missing strand grazing her ear.

"I didn't threaten him."

My sister had an odd fascination with men. She had dreamed of being a mother and a wife for the entirety of our childhood. Halmund was attractive, I will give her that, but he lacked charm. He seemed dull compared to the extravagant men I met with Father. Dashing travelers with exotic silk tunics, skin kissed by the sun, and rough hands. Some were so large that I thought they would sink their ships the minute they stepped on board. Others were small, yet stalky, and could tell you the most adventurous stories of their worldly travels.

Ulf jumped suddenly as if he remembered something. "Aw, it slipped my mind." He tossed a small, decorated gift pouch from the baker's wife in my direction.

"For me? Are you sure it was not a gift for Judith?" I ran my thumb over the small woven pouch filled with dried fruits and nuts.

"I'm sure of it."

"Is it odd that people are being so generous?" I asked suspiciously.

My sister shrugged and responded, "Be thankful." It had to belong to Judith, but I did not have the heart to withhold the treat from my siblings.

Ingrid decorated different meats with a generous helping of spices and vegetables. She added the smallest dash of a fine pungent powder Father kept hidden in the deepest corner of the spice box for special occasions. He acquired many spices over the years as a merchant, but he never found another seasoning as delicious as his fairy spice. I tied the chunks of meat onto wooden posts and hoisted our cast-iron cauldrons over an array of sized fires for different meals.

"He is getting three brides for the price of one," I complained while I rubbed the crick in my lower back.

"She made bread."

"Bread that the pigs will not eat," I insisted.

"He is here," Ulf said.

Our brother lingered at the farthest end of father's dining hall. He was too young to sit at the common table but that did not bother him. It was the first time he enjoyed a fresh meal since our arrival, and he would not let the tension ruin it for him. Halmund sat at the table in his best tunic. His uncle seated beside him with his usual scowl. His wrinkled eyes whipped us with his divine judgment before he nodded his acknowledgment.

"Welcome, Father Eilif. God has blessed us all with this marriage."

Ingrid's voice tamed the wildest of beasts (except for Dinah and Judith, but I know they clawed their way up from Hell). Father Eilif approved of her words because his scowl loosened. Halmund did not acknowledge her. He barely looked her in the eye, and he dared not peek a glance at me either.

Dinah said with a laced voice, "Make sure to look how well she embroidered her dress, my son to-be! Imagine the fine tunics my daughter will make you."

"Ingrid is a wonderful cook. She prepared this plentiful dinner for you. Thank goodness God blessed her with a sense of flavor," I praised quickly, combatting Dinah's falsehoods. She glared unsheathed daggers at me. I eagerly took advantage of our guests' protection from her usual rage. Without them, she would have thrown my food onto the floor and sent me to the barn without a meal for days on end.

"Praise him. Thank the lord for this heavenly meal."

Our silent war went unnoticed by Halmund, but Father Eilif raised an eyebrow at the sudden choice of words. It was taboo for anyone but the bride to prepare the feast for her future husband.