A Mother's Fears

“She forgot her cloak” Ingrid said, her voice waning.  “It’s cold out tonight.  She’ll be freezing.”

Thorod looked up from his small carving, which he had been carefully working into a piece of seasoned Oak.

“She’ll be fine, love.  Now tell me what’s truly bothering you.”

Ingrid’s face fell.

“I’m worried about her, that’s all...” she began.  “She’s still so young, and she hasn’t even lain with a man.  She’s strong willed, but she’s not ready to be out on her own.”

Thorod took a deep breathe and gathered himself.

“Sigrid is a capable woman, like her mother.  If you care to remember, you were younger than she when you first saw battle.”

Ingrid looked up at her husband, who smiled.

“Besides, the Earl would never send her off on her own.  They’ll help keep her safe, and perhaps she’ll find her love among them.”

“I doubt that they’ll pursue her for love,” his wife shot back.

Thorod chuckled. 

“Some see better than others, but not all men are blind.”

Ingrid’s brow furrowed.  “We live in a world of blindness.”

Thorod still held his smile.

“Come on, now, love, she has a sharp eye.  Have faith.”

This time, Thorod had hit a nerve.

“I had faith in myself, and my companions, and you remember what happened.  They left me fighting, and didn’t come back for me for nearly a day.”

Now, the smile that spread across Thorod’s face curled and darkened.

“I’ll never forgive what they did to you, Ingrid.  But we must not let fear extinguish our daughter’s hopes and dreams.  Imagine what your life would be, had you never gone.”

There was a still silence in the room.

“So many men spilled their seed in me that endless night.  Imagine what my life would be, had yours not already taken hold before that day.”

Thorod was finally without comment, lowering his gaze at the thought.

“I’m afraid for her... and for her dreams...”