Hilda understands

Hilda’s husband looked like a man who had something difficult to say and lacked the courage to say it.

“Go ahead, Sigefrith,” Hilda cooed. She thought she knew what he was thinking. Even Haakon had noticed that Mama was sick all the time.

“Perhaps I am wrong… but have you been sick in the mornings lately?”

She smirked up at him. “Why, Sigefrith! How clever of you to have figured it out all by yourself, like a big boy! Yes, yes,” she said with a voice that was suddenly vicious. “I’m pregnant. I suppose I should have told you, but I simply didn’t want to give you the satisfaction!”

Sigefrith choked. “How dare you?”

“How dare I? I? What’s the matter with you now? It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Sigefrith’s face was growing red and wet. She had never seen him so before. She had only ever seen his father in such a state, and at that thought, an insult that had been rising up in her withered and sank down again.

“How dare you?” he repeated in a growl. “What I wanted? It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? I suppose he was a real man?”

“I suppose he was a real coward! Coming into my bed when I’m not even capable of defending myself!”

“What?” he gasped.

“Very clever of you, Sigefrith! But I don’t doubt your father put you up to it, so I shall only give you half credit for the cleverness!”

“What?”

“What? what?” she mocked.

“I don’t understand…”

“Apparently half credit for cleverness was already too much! You idiot! Do you think that if a woman isn’t awake she can’t conceive?”

“But, Hilda, I don’t understand…” he mumbled.

“Can even you be so stupid?” she shrieked in exasperation. “You’ve only had your hands on me once in months! That night? Remember? I hope you do, because I certainly don’t!”

“I?”

“You!”

“Hilda, I never touched you. What do you mean? When was this?”

He looked like an idiot, it was true, but he looked like an honest idiot. He was honestly confused. He honestly did not know what she was saying.

Then she understood.

She felt a fury welling up in her that was like nothing she had felt before. Her fury grabbed one of her husband’s heavy boots from the floor and began pounding the heel of it against her stomach.

“Hilda!”

Her husband was terrified. In truth, so was she. He yanked the boot out of her hands and wrapped his arms around her, pinning her own against her sides. He was stronger than her fury.

Her heart, her lungs, her mind, and even time had seemed to stop at the moment she had understood. There was only the pounding. Only once Sigefrith held her could she live and breathe again, and gasp and sob.

“Your father!”