"She held up well," he said.
"Aye," Ivar said.
"Erik's already decided he likes her."
"I heard," Ivar said.
Ragnar looked at him sideways. "Ye're standing very close tae her for a man who said this was a political arrangement."
Ivar said nothing.
He looked across the hall at Matilda, who was listening to something Isolda was saying with her chin slightly up and her hands still, almost smiling.
They moved toward the fire.
The men gathered near the fire while the women settled at the far end of the hall with the children, and it became, gradually, the comfortable noise of people who had missed each other and were making up for it.
Torvald produced ale. Marta sent food from the kitchen in quantities that suggested she'd been planning this for days. Thor escaped Claricia twice and was retrieved both times by Erik with the weary efficiency of a man who had stopped being surprised by it.
"So," Erik said, when they'd been there long enough for the ale to have done its work. He was looking at Ivar with the expressionhe wore when he was about to say something he'd been saving. "She's nae what I expected."
"What did ye expect?" Ivar said.
"I dinnae ken. Someone more… I dinnae ken what tae call it." Erik made a gesture.
"Fragile?" Magnus said, without looking up from his cup.
"I wasnae goin' tae sayfragile."
"Ye were absolutely goin' tae say fragile," Ragnar said.
Erik pointed at him. "Ye're supposed tae be the quiet one."
"I'm accurate," Ragnar said. "Nay one said I have tae be quiet."
Ivar looked across the hall to where Matilda was sitting with the women.
She had Thor in her lap, which appeared to have happened without anyone planning it. She was listening to something Claricia was saying with the focused attention she gave things she was genuinely interested in.
As he watched, she said something back that made Claricia laugh and Isolda press her lips together in the way that meant she was fighting the same thing.
"She held up well," Torvald said, from his end of the group. "On the road. The crossin'. All of it."
"Aye," Ivar said.
"MacDougall's goin' tae be a problem," Erik said, the humor dropping out of his voice.
"I ken."
"Ye'll need men."
"I have men."
"More men." Erik looked at him steadily. "Say the word and I’ll send all the men I can spare."
Ivar looked at him. At all of them, Erik with his directness, Magnus with his quiet and his sleeping daughter, Ragnar with his stillness.
Men he'd known since they were young and stupid and considerably less careful with their lives. Men who had sailed to his island within a day of being asked, no questions, no conditions.