Dream of Me/Believe in Me

embroidery frames, and the like shared space with swords, lances, and shields.
    Krysta moved a particularly large shield out of the way and reached for a length of azure-blue silk that was strewn with tiny stars. She held it up eagerly. “What do you think of this? It matches your eyes and I think it would go very well with your coloring.”
    Aelfgyth looked from the fabric fit for a queen to her mistress and back again. Stunned, she said, “My lady, I cannot possibly take anything like that.”
    “Cannot ask, cannot take.” Krysta rolled her eyes. “We shall be here all day at this rate.” As though suddenly speaking to herself, she went on, “What can I say to convince her? Shall I mention how overwhelmed Edvard will be when she comes to him so garbed? How he will forget every other woman who has ever crossed his path and give thanks for the great good fortune that makes Aelfgyth his wife? Or should I point out that she should begin as she means to go on and to be the wife of such a man is no small thing?” Turning her gaze back to her bemused friend, she said, “Think grandly, Aelfgyth! Transform yourself. I became a maid that I might be a wife. Surely you can become a lady for the same good purpose.”
    Looking again at the fabric, Aelfgyth let out her breath slowly. “I have scarcely slept since he asked me. I said yes so quickly after so many months of longing for him. But I didn't let myself think at all.”
    “Thinking is highly overrated,” Krysta said briskly. “I certainly did far too much of it. Come now, let us findyour mother, who I happen to know has a wonderful hand with a needle, and get to work.”
    The morning sped by but before it was through, the women were interrupted by the shouts of men rising from the yard below the soon-to-be solar. Krysta glanced out a window and her heart sank. “They must be unloading the ships.”
    Aelfgyth and her mother joined her at the window, both exclaiming in amazement. Several dozen burly Vikings were dragging chest after chest, crate after crate, and bale after bale up the road from the harbor. Truly, there seemed no end to the procession. A raven flew overhead, seeming to supervise the operation.
    With a heavy sigh, Krysta put aside her sewing and went down to the great hall, followed by both women. Hawk and Dragon were there. As each chest or crate or bale was brought in, it was opened for their inspection.
    “Furs,” Dragon said, waving a hand at what to Krysta looked like a mountain of them. “Gold, much in plate and ornaments but much more in coin … spices, several years' supply I think … salt—apparently Sven put a very high value on salt for he had an extraordinary amount of it. You should never have to buy any again.”
    He went on, pointing out intricately carved chests of wood and beaten gold, vividly colored pottery dishes, goblets inlaid with jewels, and then as though that were not enough, a parade of weapons, some of which Krysta recognized from her father's visits. His sword was there, a mighty blade with a hilt that held a large ruby, and his shield scarred in many battles.
    Seeing her expression, Hawk picked up the shield and held it carefully. “This will always have a place of honor in my hall. It will be mounted beside my father's shield.”
    As she smiled her thanks, Dragon said as though in passing, “By the way, the ships that carried all this are also the Lady Krysta's.”
    Hawk looked startled for a moment, then laughed out loud. Krysta was too overcome to react at all. From the belief that she came to her husband without family or fortune to discover that she was instead an heiress of great wealth was more than she could contemplate. She decided not to try, but she did store away in her heart an especially grateful thought for the Lord Dragon and his fearsome brother, the Wolf, whom she suspected had plotted together to restore her honor.
    When the crates, chests, and bales had been stored away and good progress made on Aelfgyth's gown, it was time for supper. This proved a jovial affair with Dragon spinning his tales once again, drink flowing freely, and Saxon and Norse affirming the peace between them in good fellowship. It was only when Krysta saw Daria coming into the hall accompanied by Father Elbert that she remembered her intent to tour Hawkforte with her sister-in-law. But just as she was about to speak to Daria about it, Dragon began another story and the thought fled her mind once more.
    She did