Argoen had learned swiftly, that Siggred of House Karr was a pragmatic woman.
He had not thought much of her, the first time they had met overt he lip of a war tent table. Siggred was a tall and pole-thin woman, with a square face and large, pale eyes that were near constantly outlined in a thick, black kohl. She cut a strange and somber figure in the already frigid North. Argoen had known her 4 weeks now. He had yet to see her smile.
But he had not once in those 4 weeks, seen Siggred flounder. To her face, they called her Iron-side and Argoen could see why.
She was an ever present figure at Valencias elbow since she had joined them at Fort Kuldor, only offering her advice when she knew that it would be useful to their plans. What she had added however, had worked flawlessly and Argoen was pleasantly surprised to find that as sour as Siggred was, she was war hardened and clever.
He liked her.
The 400 men Siggred had brought to add to their ranks beat yellow and black shields for her and toasted to the Iron-side of Karr Castle when she returned from the field with her white hair bloodied at the ends. Valencia had once told him the North bred warriors as easy as it did ice, and after meeting Siggred, he could do little else but agree.
