I didn't expect anything when I stepped into the hall, on my first day as a married woman. Former slave, married without a dowry, I owned nothing but Einarr's gifts. If I divorced, I'd have to be a servant to earn a living. It did not matter. A freed woman couldn't divorce without seeking permission from her former master. As it happened to be my husband, I guessed it would never be granted. Unless, of course, he grew tired of me, which should make me eager to keep him happy.

So I assumed that the custom of the morgengifu, a present to the new wife after her wedding night, didn't apply to me. And was very surprised to find Lord Einarr in the high chair, surrounded by grinning guests.

He beckoned me forth, and I obeyed, stopping at the foot of the dais. He smiled, his eyes appraising me. I hoped I got his approval. Svana had pinned my hair up and hid it under the plaited veil that betrayed my status, a wife and the mistress of a wealthy house. The brooches Einarr gave me held my outer dress, my beaded necklace suspended between them. I looked like a Dane.

"Did you have nice dreams, Sunngifu?" he asked in a low enough voice that I alone would hear.

"I did, thank you." What a strange question. His mother had already insisted that I narrated my dreams to her, and now him. I would have to question Svana about it.

He picked a scroll and a pouch and handed them to me. "Your morning gift, sweet wife. I hope it'll please you."

Hiding my surprise the best I could, I sat to open them. The bag contained a bar of silver and two gold bangles. My eyes widened; it was a small fortune. As my lips parted to express my gratitude, he pointed to the parchment. I nodded and broke the seal, frowning as I unrolled it. It was in their language, and I couldn't read runes.

"It is the deed of a farm on my land, overlooking the sea. I remembered you like watching it."

My cheeks heated, as I struggled to find my words. He didn't give me time to speak, waiving at someone in the crowd. Two slaves stepped forward, Eimear and her daughter.

"They are yours. Treat them well, my dear wife." He winked and I jumped into his arms, his gifts spilling from my lap to the floor. There were laughter and clapping, somewhere far away. I clung onto him like a drowning woman, in an attempt to convey what I felt. I would never be poor, or a servant, again. And he would always protect me, as I would live on his land.

"If you want to leave me, you can, Sunngifu. I don't want you to feel trapped in our marriage, as my former wife once did. It would only lead to sorrow, for both of us. I'm offering you your freedom. I just wish you won't use it."

I stared at his face. He seemed serious and perhaps a bit scared. He would let me go. If I wanted to.

Suddenly it was clear to me that I couldn't, wouldn't leave him. I feared putting a name on the cause, but I couldn't imagine my life without him. Finally, I managed to speak. "Why would I, husband? I am happy here, with you."

His grin was worth all the songs and poems. He bent and kissed my forehead, my nose, my mouth. His hands wrapped around my waist and held me close. I heard hooting behind us and Sigurd Godi appeared on our side. "It seems that your lavish gifts carried their own reward, my friend, but it might be wise to stop before going any further. As much as we would appreciate the entertainment, I guess your wife would prefer more privacy for what you have in mind..."

I instantly turned scarlet. Einarr laughed and stood. "Forgive me for being selfish. I invite you all to celebrate with me. Bring the ale and mead!"

I shook my head. Did these men ever cease drinking? It was a good diversion, though. I could escape, they wouldn't expect me to partake in their merriment with a child growing in me.

So I left, signaling Eimear to follow me.

I didn't waste my time. With a banquet each evening, there was a lot for me to do. I had to decide what would be served, instruct the cook ahead for him to heat the kilns and fire the pits, and calculate the number of beef, pigs and sheep to slay. Then I would check the level of mead and ale, and honey and barley to make them, so that we wouldn't run out. It would be a stain on Einarr's honor if his hospitality was found lacking.

Then I would go to the dairy and tell them to prepare skyr, butter or cheese as needed. In the stables I ensured that the horses had been properly watered and fed, and after that I would meet with the overseer so that my demands would be carried through.

This part, I liked least. I remembered the ugly man sneering at me, how he berated me for my failures and threatened to whip me. I couldn't dismiss him, so I pretended it never happened. Yet while he showed me the appropriate marks of respect, I could tell he was merely going through the motions. Contempt was lurking under his smooth manners. He would gladly see me fail, and I worried that he might do more than wish for it. Hence my need of Eimear.

Before her capture, she had ruled a house of her own. Although it was a small farm, it gave her experience I sorely needed. I was delighted that she now belonged to me. I would be kind to her, reward her for her tasks. No man would ever touch her against her will, and I would free her daughter when she would come of age. Eimear would be my ears and my eyes, and watch the overseer for me. Mayhap in time I could free her too, but it wouldn't do her any good unless she found a husband. She would need someone to support her, or remain a servant in my house.

"My house." I had to say the words aloud. I could hardly believe them. When I lived with my father it had been a given, and I had to lose it all to acknowledge my blessings. So many people didn't have a place to call their own, condemned to a life of servitude by the unfairness of fate, spending their lives in their master's hall.

Mildred was right, I couldn't let my newfound wealth spoil my mind.

I was humbled when I returned to prepare for the feast. Over the following days I tried to be the best hostess, memorizing the name of every guest and finding a kind word for each one.

I learned where they lived, how big their land was, how many children they had. I put my newfound knowledge in writing, and Einarr named me his favorite scholar. The only one, he said, who didn't have a beard or smell.

I chose to take it as a compliment. I wanted to be able to help these people, my people, in their time of need. Those with small farms and large families would be first to suffer should the crops fail or the cattle succumb to illness, and they might be too proud to ask for help. I could anticipate their needs, give them work and pay them in edible goods. Their praise would go to my husband and improve his reputation. It would be reward enough for my good deed. I was proud of my achievements, and more confident that I would succeed in my role.

Sigurd Godi left after three days, during which I didn't notice anything odd in his behavior. He appeared to be enjoying himself, and thanked me warmly for my gifts. In my gleeful state, I concluded that his previous deportment had been due to his doubts about me. He wanted to be sure that I would be a good wife for his friend.

At the end of the week, an eerie calm fell on the house. The guests were gone and I suddenly had too much time on my hands. I was exhausted. There had been so many late nights, so many toasts, so much noise, and enough food that I felt ready to burst. I sat in my husband's lap, my head on his shoulder, listening to Eimear singing a love song from her land. It was so peaceful. I nuzzled his neck, and his hand caressed my back. I clapped when Eimear stopped, and asked: "Shall we retire now? I'd like to visit the farm you gave me in the morn, and we could use a good night of sleep."

He seemed to hesitate, giving a quick look around. Then he agreed. "As you wish, I think we are all tired."

I kissed his cheek. "I can go alone if you'd rather stay. Do not deny yourself your pleasure in my favor."

"Nothing would please me more than to hold you in my arms, in our bed, my sweet dreki." He smiled and took my hand, helping me up.

The lamps and candles were lit when I opened the door. He must have anticipated my desire to rest. I walked to the bed and squealed, pressing my hands on my mouth to muffle the sound. There, on the furs, were my bow and arrows, and beside, in a new bejeweled sheath, my seax.