A Queen Named Victory

Chapter Two

Halmund and Ingrid engaged in a private conversation, one that seemed too intimate for my liking. I searched our surroundings for any nearby travelers or villagers that might stumble upon us. Halmund murmured something in my sister's ear, and she giggled.

Ingrid told Halmund about our experiences in Geriset with Grandmother. The cruel winters there tormented her. Brittle bones and an old spirit left her bedridden during the cold season, and with each passing winter, she worsened. The days when we laughed over bowls of wild rice with piping-hot Grayling fillets were long gone.

"You are a blessing from God to your grandmother. Your father is a good man to send you."

He foolishly admired our father blindly. Father did not care for his mother. He sent us away because Dinah hated having a home bustling with too many children that were not of her blood.

"This is where we part," I said flatly.

Ingrid thanked Halmund and slid off the horse to join me. "May we meet again?" He called to us as we pivoted away from the main trail to the port. Heidrun's clapping hooves drowned out Ingrid's reply.

"I know you are mad," she said with her face pressed against my back.

Only the gods know what would happen if someone from town spotted the two of them. How could I explain why an unmarried woman clung to a traveling vagrant? Or worse, what would I do if he stole her away?

"But I felt—"

"Nothing. You saw a man and lost all of your senses... as always." That last bit of words stung her. A small part of me regretted saying that to her.

"He's a good soul," said my sister. Her voice cracked from the harshness of my earlier words.

"A good Christian man would not try to catch a glimpse of a maiden's nakedness on his way to pick up his new bride."

She huffed in disagreement but said nothing. She had no claim to refute me because I was right. He may have been attractive, but he was still a man. She tightened her grip on the wrapped fleece blanket that he insisted she kept.

"You wouldn't understand. You will never feel the blooming warmth of love."

"Is that the same love you felt for the many men before him?" I retorted.

She pulled away from me. "No! It is real! I felt it, the flutter of my heart. It is real, you're just too untrusting to feel it."

"Flutter?"

"Yes, flutter. Like joyous willow warblers rejoicing inside of you. It's true love."

"Ingrid," I sighed. Father must find her a husband, or she would marry the next tree stump she sees that looks like a man with broad shoulders and thick thighs. Regardless of my feelings toward her naive imagination, she might have met her future husband. We were the only marriageable girls left in Dovre and (between the two of us) she openly expressed her desire for love. Father promised Ingrid he would have a respectable match for her before our departure. While her inner Willow Warblers celebrated at the thought of meeting her betrothed, mine nervously pecked at my innards.

Ulf peered from the entrance of the byre. He dropped the milk bucket quickly to join us. "Look how much he has grown!" I exclaimed. He beamed proudly at the attention. He sprouted like a beanstalk since we last saw him. Our baby brother was no longer a cheeky youngling with a permanent look of mischief in his eyes.

"He's a growing boy and a harder worker," Father said proudly.

"HALVAR!" Dinah bellowed from within the house. Her nauseating voice rattled my ears enough to conjure pain in my forehead. Ulf scampered back to the byre, and Father left to tend to his wife's demands. Ingrid put on her bravest face as she followed Father.

"I'm not ready to face the beast yet," I said jokingly.

Ulf sighed as he scattered the dry hay into a stall then said, "She has been in a terrible mood of late, so try not to anger her."

"She's always angry."

I led Heidrun to her stable. Unna ate her serving of hay lazily beside the empty stall. "Has she fed you well?" I asked, shifting through the supplies I brought. "I am fed," he said quietly among the sound of tossed supplies landing on the ground. I grabbed his cheek gently to coax his honesty.

"I take what I can from the pig slop," he admitted.

I pulled him into my arms. Father lied again. I ripped the satchel open and emptied the remaining dried meat and fruits. "Don't gobble it too quickly, or you'll suffer later," I said before planting a kiss on my brother's forehead.

Shouts and loud thumps on the other side of the door warned me of the chaos that was ahead. I traced a finger against the wood scars where Mama's protective carvings once decorated the doorframe. Black scorch marks colored my fingertip black. Dinah initially scorched the wood with a pot fresh off a fire pit, but she could not manage to erase the deeper engravings. Father stopped her before she caused more damage.

"See this, Little Sig, it is a wolf," Mama began, "If evil tries to enter our home the wolf will devour it." She growled playfully and made snapping jaws with her open hands. I mimicked her with playful puppy-like growls.

Then I realized, "But Papa is scared of wolves. He told me to never go into the forest because a wolf'll eat me. He said monsters live in the forest too, and they will hurt me if I play in the trees again."

Mama replied with a gentle smile, "Humans can be as evil as they can be pure. If you give the forest folk respect, they will return the favor. Wolves too."

I pressed the rest of my palm against the wolf. If only it succeeded. But alas, the wolf was merely a creature Mama envied. Their mates never left them the way Papa left her. Her sacred wolf did not prevent her from getting sick. Nor did it stop my father's heart from roaming to other women as she was bedridden. The loud echo of a hard slap upon delicate skin reminded me where I stood. Ingrid plunged out of the doorway with heavy sobs.

I waited for Father to act. Instead, he sat on the bench with a blank face and no intention of interfering with the womanly affairs. Judith stood on a wooden stool in the middle of the main hall. Her head poked outside of a large fur collar atop an expensively ornate fabric. "You cry over a mere dress?" I questioned defensively on my sister's behalf. Dinah kept pinning needles into the crevices of the dress.

"Every young bride needs a worthy gown," sneered Judith. She eyed me for a similar reaction that she found from Ingrid.

"Blessings to you," I said nonchalantly, then placed the milk pail on the wood bench before exiting. I found my sister next to our willow tree. Her tear-stricken face glued strands of her bangs to her cheeks.

"Halmund would be a fool to marry her."

I plopped down on the ground beside her. We sat among small wildflowers. Ingrid covered her face with her hands and cried harder. She was a sorrowful soul weeping into her palms. "What have I done to deserve such a punishment from God?" She hiccupped.

"Is it wrong to ask for love?"

"I doubt God is punishing you for such a simple request. If anything, God is punishing Halmund with a wife from hell." I snorted with amusement from the image of Halmund's reaction when he viewed his bride-to-be.

"Why Judith? Why not me?"

"Because there is someone in the world that is better for you."

I plucked the tiny white flowers from their roots, then stabbed the thin stems with my fingernail. I wove them into a crown. "No man desires a spoiled girl." Small droplets of pale sap stuck to my fingers. I added, "An ugly spoiled girl." I bit into the stubborn stems with my front teeth. "Halmund will not marry her." I parted the hair from my sister's swollen face. Her eyes were puffy and red. Even her nose was flushed pink. I dried her tears with my sleeve.

"My heart will not survive if he weds her."

"I will not allow that," I said before I placed the delicate crown of snow flowers atop her head. The pure white petals were stars on the evening horizon.

"You do not need a man who will not fight for love."

"Ingrid! Sigrid!" Dinah called.

"Is it wrong to pray for God to take that woman's tongue?" I groaned.