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The Journals of Raymond Brooks 37
CHAPTER III
Ingrid
I was approximately at the age of fourteen winters when
Ingrid came into my life. This was an event that broke the quiet
routine I had adopted for myself under Ivar’s care. It was after a
brief lunch that a young woman came and stood by the closed
smithy. I was occupied in the smithy with my own food, while
Ivar ate the filthy communal meal with the rest of the townsfolk.
I had never been able to bring myself to eat the disgusting
common Fayre with the rest of them: In a huge cauldron that
was rarely washed, was boiled vegetable and herb and whatever
other scraps the cook saw fit to throw in. To this was added any
meat that could be found. I made it my own habit to eat only
what I could identify, and to wash my hands prior to any meal.
Therefore, I often ate alone at the smithy while Ivar and the
