A Queen Named Victory

Chapter Five

Ingrid pecked at the bread but ate little food on her plate, and I pinched my legs to stop myself from flipping the table. My fingers itched to douse Dinah with my bowl of beef stew. I glanced at my younger brother, idly gnawing on a chunk of meat. Suddenly, the meat tasted vile, and the mead bitter.

Who would protect him? What about Grandmother and the icy winter? Surely, the church would not spare Ingrid for such a long time when they needed her to clean, pray, fast, and follow orders to serve their whims.

Then there was my main problem: Skeg.

I gagged again at the thought of his lips smashing against my face. Half of the town's younglings were his sires. He put every one of his wives in early graves. Birth after birth after birth, he pushed them to have more. Life with that man was hell on earth. I no longer pitied Halmund what that bleak future awaited.

Later in the night, I laid awake with worry. Ingrid's eyes were swollen shut from the endless tears that fell for hours after the dinner. Her whimpers were a mournful lullaby for us. Ulf snored softly as he pulled his wool blanket closer to his dampened cheeks.

Dinah served her final blow. We clashed with her for years. Sometimes she would strike harsh punishments and other times we outwitted her. It was a game until we bested her, then we were threats. We endured and persisted. For once, I regretted the list of sins I committed thus far into my life. I questioned the presence of the old gods and watchful fey. Dinah's creator heard her devious prayers to punish each child of Halvar. A cold shudder shook my body.

Ulf had a chance to escape Dinah. He could join the raids, the king's courts, or the merchant guilds when he became of age. He was bound to receive a small sum of silver since it was his birthright as the only male heir. There was a small drop of hope and comfort for me in that regard. He only had to endure a few more years before he could leave on his own. That was the blessing of being a boy.

I heard shifting from Father's hay bed and followed the shadowy mass to the back of the house near the cowshed. Father jumped in fright at the sight of me.

"Is it true?"

He shrugged without speaking.

"You are selling me as a slave?"

"You are a free woman," he corrected.

"Does he know that?"

Father sighed tiredly, "It is not my duty to tell a man how to handle his wife."

The lump in my throat burned. I trailed after Father, arguing about our fates and his broken promises. He thrust open the door to the byre. I pursued with a growing animosity. A flashing sting struck my temple, and momentum pushed me back three steps.

"What do you know about your sister's desires?"

"I am her voice!" I struck my chest. Dinah beat it out of her years ago, but I survived her thrashings. "So, hear me Father; She does not deserve to be cast away in the church, and you know it." I trembled as the words slipped my mouth.

"Papa, please."

Did he think it is wrong to force Ingrid to live a life of seclusion? Does he feel guilty about sending me off to live as a breeding slave to a man who lets the shrimp between his legs control his mind? Does it pain him at all? There was no sign of any emotion. It did not matter because he did not care.

"You're a yellow-bellied coward," I finally spat. In my heart, I called upon all the gods to curse my father for his failures. A list of vile words fled my mouth. I flung a closed fist against his body and slapped his arms away. Elin and Heidrun both neighed anxiously. All the animals stirred in their pens. The hog squealed and the cows bellowed warily. None of it mattered. It was hopeless.

"Sigrid!" Dinah hissed. She pulled me away from my father by my braid.

"I refuse to marry that pig."

"You will be Skeg's woman."

Dinah pushed me to the ground. I looked at Father one last time. He straightened his tunic then closed the byre door. With him went my happiness, trust, childhood, and every bit of adoration for the man I once called Father.

"I've bowed down to your command countless times," I seethed as I lifted myself onto my feet and braced for the slap that would follow such insubordination.

"Lower your voice!" Dinah's eyes scanned the forest for watchful eyes or uncanny shadows. "It is the forest folk's hour."

"To hell with forest folk!" I cursed. There was nothing left for me to lose.

"What do you have to fear, Dinah? Doesn't your God protect you from the evil creatures in the forest?"

"Lord, forgive this child of her nonsense," Dinah said aside in a hushed tone. Then she spoke calmly, "There is a darkness in you that must be cleansed. Tonight, you will sleep with the animals, where you belong. I will take you to Skeg's land myself tomorrow."

"No."

"And what will you do?" She scoffed, "Will you run into the forest? If you dislike him, then you will hate the Dimikyr that takes you as his bride. Consider our arrangement to be a blessing."

"I'd gladly marry any forest folk than that two-legged pig! Do you hear that Dimikyrs?! Get your human bride!" My voice echoed back to me.

Get your human bride!

An audience of crows gathered in the trees. They cawed and bickered from the safety of the evergreen branches. A strong gust of wind cast moving shadows over the wild grass. Were they reaching for me? Or was it a trick of the eye?

Heat rose to my cheeks at the growing audience I could feel but not see. Something lurked in the forest, watching, and enjoying the entertainment. A small part of me wanted to stop before I did something I would regret later. The little voice begged me to recant and return to the safety under my blanket.

Say it.

"Sigrid, go inside. Stop with this childish behavior for once," Dinah pleaded. She too looked fearful of the dancing shadows.

"Fuck you, Dinah. I will die before you sell my body. And fuck you, Halvar. I am Sigrid Ylvadottir: the fatherless!"

Another blur pushed me onto the ground. Loud slaps to my face frightened the crows into a hushed silence. Not one animal, in the barns nor the forest, dared to make a sound. My heartbeat drummed in my ears. The stars circled me like vultures.

Was the moon supposed to spin so violently?

I groaned as I tried to stand up. I was glad that his second slap forced me to my knees because I hid my tears beneath my curtain of loosened curls. He did not deserve the pleasure of witnessing me cry. My breaths steadied as my fingers clawed the moist dirt.

"Are you certain you'd rather marry a Dimikyr?"

"YES. I'd even marry a rock! A tree! A fish! I'll marry a damn Dimikyr if it means escaping this fate!"

"Wonderful. My new bride has made up her mind."