My grandfather nodded and helped her up from the floor. “Thank you for the advice, Sigrid. We will heed it.”
Grandfather saw her to the door. Sigrid paused and looked Grandfather in the eyes. “Don’t let that child go on that voyage.”
He nodded and handed her money.
Grandfather was the patriarch of our family and I never knew him not to be in charge. My father always stood down. It was the way of the old country.
“Dad, we’re in England. I was born here. I’m not a child. I’m 23 years old. And do we really have to use ancient Norse magic?”
Grandfather sat at the table and looked at me. “Hush, child. Runes are very powerful. Sigrid is the most widely respected rune caster in all of England. We are fortunate to have her live close.”
“But the ship sails in under one month,” I pleaded.
Father stood up. “The answer is no, Ingrid. You will not be on that ship. There will be no more discussion on the matter.”
I stared in disbelief. This was the first time father weighed in on a matter where Grandfather had made a decision. The case was closed.
On April 10th, 1912, the Titanic set sail from Southampton, England, without Ingrid on board.