The smell of food filled Friðljót’s nostrils and she felt delight within her when she noticed fish cooking over the fire. They were going to have fish, just as she had hoped, and she was eager to eat.
“And who is this?” a man’s voice asked, sounding curious.
Friðljót turned to see a man who looked a little older than Úlfherr, although he was probably shorter, and unquestionably broader. He had blonde hair and his beard was thick; a little blonde-haired boy with large eyes sat in his lap, both were looking at her.
“Have you been wed Úlfherr?” the man asked.
Friðljót flushed, rather shocked that the man’s presumption.
“No, my brother,” Úlfherr replied. “This is Sigbjörg, a thrall we acquired.”
Her mortification immediately turned to indignation while the flush remained. A thrall? Surely he could’ve come up with something better than that.
“Oh,” the man said. “And why is a maid as fair as her a thrall?”
“Because her father is dead and her mother was not wise with money, according to her previous master,” Úlfherr replied.
“Well, then I guess she ought to work,” the man said.
Friðljót levelled a glare toward Úlfherr as she turned toward the fire, and she could tell that Úlfherr saw it, but that he wasn’t reacting to it, which only made her more upset.
In a matter of moments Friðljót found herself busy helping the women prepare the fish, which was a challenge, as she’d never done any cooking before, but she strove to gain as much knowledge by observation as possible in an effort to not be chastised or condemned, seeing as she had now been described as a thrall.
As grateful as she was for Úlfherr’s willingness to not tell the truth about her — or, to not repeat the lies she’d told him — she was indignant at the lies he’d chosen to tell instead, and couldn’t consider herself grateful to have been called a thrall when she was, in fact, a princess.
Nonetheless, she worked hard; she would’ve been sent to work anyways, considering that she was a woman, and the women always did the cooking, with female guests being expected to help with the cooking as much as any other woman in the home, and Friðljót found there were three.
Two of them were older women, one of whom was sister to the brothers, while the other one was probably a co-wife of the man who’d spoken to Úlfherr with her, and the other one, looking to be significantly younger than Friðljót herself, was probably the oldest daughter of one of them.
Which woman was sister of the brothers Friðljót didn’t know, but she did know that one of them looked pregnant, while the other had a baby laying in a basket near at hand, and when the meal was nearly ready she ended up having to depart with the baby, who had begun to fuss.
Pronunciations:
Úlfherr: ohlfhehr
Sigbjörg: sihgbyuhrg
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