Lady Ragnhild greets her husband

April 24, 1080

'Haakon!  Hilda!  Who's first?'

“Haakon! Hilda! Who’s first?” Sir Sigefrith beamed and held his arms wide. “All right,” he laughed as Eirik’s dog flung himself at him. “Kottr’s first!”

Hilda gaped at him in surprise, but Haakon scrambled to his feet and greeted his father in the same manner as the dog.

“Where’s my Dumble-​​Dora?” he asked Hilda as he knelt to hug his son.

'Where's my Dumble-Dora?'

Hilda had just the time to say, “Napping,” before Haakon began pouring forth a detailed account of his activities over the last two weeks.

Thus, between Haakon’s stories, the showing of the “everything you brought me” and the “look what I made while you were gone”, and the tip-​​toe visit to Dora’s bedside, it was some time before Sigefrith was able to rejoin his wife, who had sat placidly sewing through it all.

“Well, my Hilda, don’t I get a kiss?” he asked as he fell back into the seat beside her.

'Well, my Hilda, don't I get a kiss?'

Hilda lifted a cheek to him, but he grabbed her chin and turned her face so that he might kiss her on the mouth.

“Good Lord, it’s good to be home,” he sighed in satisfaction.

He thought himself a lucky man to be able to come home with the same pleasure with which he departed on a journey. It seemed he had just the right quantity of everything good in his life.

“Where’s mother?” he asked.

“Where do you think? With Eadie. She won’t need us anymore once Eadie has her baby.”

'Where do you think?  With Eadie.'

“She doesn’t need us now, only loves us.”

“Then perhaps she won’t love us after Eadie has her baby,” she snapped.

“What nonsense! As if a child of that gangling looby of a king could be more appealing than my beauteous offspring!”

Hilda snorted.

“Put that sewing down,” he said and pushed it into her lap, “and let me have a bite of you.”

Hilda rolled her eyes, but she laid her sewing aside.

“Good Lord!” he cried as he tried to pull her into his lap. “You are getting big! Having twins like my father? Perhaps it runs in the family.”

'Having twins like my father?  Perhaps it runs in the family.'

She scowled. “No, I am certain I am not. Therefore you must be insinuating that I am getting very fat.”

“Fat! What nonsense! And if you are, it only means I can have two or three bites of you instead of one. Come here a while!” But he dared not pull her into his lap if she would not allow it – and not only out of concern for the baby.

She shrugged him away. “How was your trip?” she asked. “I trust they did not assassinate our king.”

“No! Don’t be silly, Hilda. Eirik wouldn’t take Sigefrith into a trap. We had ever so much fun, all of us. Even Alred was almost like his old self, telling jokes. He had Godred Whitehand laughing until he cried quarter.”

“I wonder how long he will be laughing,” she muttered.

'I wonder how long he will be laughing.'

“Who? Whitehand?”

“No. Alred.”

“I don’t know,” Sigefrith shrugged. “He’s getting better. We simply don’t talk about Matilda when he’s around. We simply didn’t talk about wives at all!” he laughed.

“Oh, I’m certain that was a relief to you,” she snapped.

“What? Why?” He laughed again. “It was only out of precaution, since Brede and Eirik were both there. They’re great friends, so long as they forget there’s such a thing as wives and sisters in the world.”

“I’m certain you all forgot about that.”

“What? What nonsense! I thought about Eadie constantly,” he said and tried to pinch her. She only swatted his hand away.

“Come, my Hilda,” he pleaded and tried to embrace her. “I missed you. Don’t be rough with poor me now.”

'Don't be rough with poor me now.'

“Poor you! Oh, Sigefrith, you’re such a pest!” she cried. “I’m already dragging my belly on the ground – can’t you give me a rest until the baby comes and you’re ready to start on the next one?”

“But, Hilda! When the baby comes and I’m ready to start on the next one, you will tell me you don’t want another one! When shall I have a bite of you? Just a taste? I’m starving!”

She pushed him away and said, “You still didn’t tell me about your trip. All you told me was that Alred told jokes and you didn’t talk about your poor wives. I want to know about Whitehand.”

“Oh! That’s all fine. He’s a man just like Sigefrith, you know. They have a lot in common. Both got their teeth in a nice bit of land, and both declared themselves king and defied anyone to say otherwise.”

'Both got their teeth in a nice bit of land, and both declared themselves king and defied anyone to say otherwise.'

“Isn’t Whitehand worried about Olaf?”

“Isn’t Sigefrith worried about William?”

“I suppose he was until he found himself in Scotland! What did they decide? Are they friends, allies, what?”

Sigefrith shrugged. “I suppose they’re friends, even though I think Sigefrith made it clear he’s not participating in any of Whitehand’s conquests. Friends enough that he’s letting Eirik take Sigi to live there. And, you know, now that I’ve figured out what Whitehand thinks about Olaf, I understand why your father let Eirik go with him. He’s clever, your father!”

Hilda snorted.

Hilda snorted. “What’s this about Sigi?”

“Eirik went with Whitehand to get his wife. Whitehand’s, I mean. But he means to get Sigi as well and bring her to the island. He has a house.”

Hilda looked away and pondered this in silence for a moment. Sigefrith saw his opportunity and threw his arms around her.

“Oh, get off!” Hilda shrieked and shoved him away. “I’m thinking!”

'Oh, get off!'

Sigefrith sat back against the bench, hurt at last. “Estrid didn’t greet Brede in any such a way, and I’m certain Eadie didn’t either.”

“Oh, Eadie and Estrid!” Hilda rolled her eyes. “The goose and the gaby! When they’ve been married as long as I have and had as many babies, then we shall see how they greet their husbands!”

“I don’t believe you ever greeted me as Estrid did Brede,” Sigefrith grumbled.

'I don't believe you ever greeted me as Estrid did Brede.'

“And how does our false prude greet her husband?” Hilda sneered. “Does she pull down his leggings and fall directly to her knees, or does she lead him to a chair first?”

Sigefrith leapt to his feet and scowled down at her. Her pale face was hideous when she was insolent. She looked positively malevolent. He did not know whether to respond in kind or simply leave her.

“What a face!” she cackled. “You’re the gander to Eadie’s goose, that’s for certain! I shall never understand how a clever man like your father sired two such halfwits as you and she!”

He told himself he must indeed be a fool, for only a short while before he had been thinking how happy he was to be home. Now he wished he had gone on with Eirik and Whitehand. If not for his children, he thought he yet might.

“May God forgive you,” he muttered, and he left her.

'What a face!'