'That's a bad word.'

“Damn!” Alred swore again once they were on the road.

Iylaine looked up at him with wide eyes. “That’s a bad word,” she said solemnly.

“Perhaps we should wait to discuss this,” Egelric suggested gently.

Alred walked on, furious.

“I beg your pardon, Baby.” Alred walked on, furious. There was really nothing to do tonight but get drunk. If he didn’t, he was likely to go back to the castle and strike that smirk off of Malcolm’s face himself, even if Sigefrith would never know why.

Matilda had been right—that Maud was a witch. Why had Sigefrith always fallen for the most useless women? And this Maud was the most useless baggage of them all. It figured that he should have married her!

“Egelric!” he said suddenly, for in searching for some other topic of conversation he had thought of something he had been waiting all evening for Sigefrith to mention. Perhaps Sigefrith hadn’t wanted to spoil a happy occasion with bad news—or perhaps he had not wanted to worry Colban, who was planning on leaving his young son behind as a page to be raised up in Sigefrith’s court.

Damn! That boy! He hadn’t reckoned with that boy. He had Malcolm’s smile, and he had the whole family’s nose. The last thing they needed around the castle was a model against which to compare the young prince as he grew out of his baby face. Egelric was danger enough. They would have to get Colban to take the young Malcolm away with him again. He hoped that Colban had already realized that as well.

'Your Grace?'

“Your Grace?” Egelric prompted.

“Begging your pardon,” Alred stammered. “What was I about to say?”

“A bad word?” Iylaine guessed.

'The very worst of them, Baby!'

Alred laughed. “The very worst of them, Baby! No, Egelric, I was about to tell you about something else that I was surprised Sigefrith never mentioned. You know the old Baron is dead?”

“Aye, that was before I left,” Egelric said.

“That’s so—but then the young Baron came to see Theobald. That was after you left.”

'That was after you left.'

“He came here?”

“He came here. And he came with threats. It seems he intends to annex the valley and make us pay him rents. The alternative is that he inform William of our presence here. Probably thinks he would end up holding the valley anyway, as a reward for betraying us.”

Egelric didn’t answer.

“Are you listening, old man?”

“I’m thinking.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Let me know when you have found a solution. Sigefrith won’t say so, at least not to his humble servant, but he doesn’t know what to do.”

“There is no point in accepting his offer. Gifmund is a scoundrel. He’ll take half our harvest and then betray us.”

'He'll take half our harvest and then betray us.'

“You know him?”

“Know him! We all know him, and hate him. He seemed to think that the lot of us were beasts to use as he would. I wouldn’t mention his name around Gunnilda Hogge. He raped her sister, and he blinded her brother when he came after him for it.”

Alred saw him cast an uneasy glance down at Iylaine, but the girl walked on quietly without raising her head. No doubt she didn’t know what the word meant.

“That only leaves one course open to us,” Alred muttered.

“Two—if I may presume.”

“Presume! Presume!”

“We either wait for William to attack us, or we attack first.”

“Attack Thorhold…” Alred mused.

“I don’t mean march to London.”

'I don't mean march to London.'

“That castle will be difficult to take.”

“May I remind Your Grace of what William did to Northumbria on his way through? There would not be a man left alive in the valley. And God help the women.”

“Won’t William be after us once we take Thorhold?”

“No doubt. But that castle will be easier to defend. There’s Thorhold on the summit, and there are the old forts at two of the necks of the valley. The third is the only one that is not defended, and it’s difficult to traverse in any weather. A small keep on either side of the lake should suffice to close that route.”

“Are you certain you were always a serf, old man?”

'Are you certain you were always a serf, old man?'

“Walking behind a plough leaves plenty of time for reflection.”

“I should try that!”

“I’m surprised that His Majesty did not suggest that course of action,” Egelric said, returning to his analysis of the situation.

“I don’t believe Sigefrith knows the benefits of ploughing either—a joke! A joke, Egelric. I believe he meant to pay the Baron off, as hard as that is on a man’s pride. He’s already paying a fifth to the abbey—Damn! All for that woman! I should say the old abbot got the better of that deal!”

“Your Grace…” Egelric cautioned.

'Your Grace...'

“I also don’t believe he wanted war with the Baron when he could have peace. He’s not the bloodthirsty Scot you are, Squire.”

“Your Grace must take that into consideration when weighing the merits of my advice. Consider also that I and most of my brethren have many reasons to hate the new Baron. However, my advice is this: if His Majesty sends rents to Thorhold this season, he will be doing nothing more than provisioning the Baron against the siege that we shall soon be forced to lay.”

“It is excellent advice, Egelric. I am happy you are home in time to give it. I should tell you that there is a another course that Cenwulf proposed, though it pleases Sigefrith little.”

“What is it?”

“We leave.”

“Whereto?”

“That’s the question. It’s easy for Cenwulf to say—Colburga has lands in Saxony, or she will when her mother dies. Matilda and Sigefrith and I are landless exiles.”

“We’ve had six harvests here,” Egelric said quietly after a time.

'We've had six harvests here.'

“I don’t want to leave either, old man,” Alred sighed. “But we’ve stolen six years from the Normans. Now comes the reckoning.”

“What’s the reckoning?” Iylaine asked.

“Oh, Baby, I forgot you were here.”

'Oh, Baby, I forgot you were here.'

“Were you listening to all of this?” Egelric asked her uneasily.

“Aye. What’s the reckoning? Why do we have to leave? Is it because of that Baron?”

“A reckoning is a very boring thing that adults do, Baby. You wouldn’t be interested,” Alred explained.

“Nobody said we were leaving, darling angel,” Egelric reassured her.

“His Grace did.”

'His Grace did.'

“I said we could leave,” Alred corrected. “And Matilda always says that you’re so sweet she could eat you up, but she never does, does she?”

“No!” Iylaine laughed.

“So you see? adults often say nonsense that they don’t mean. You shouldn’t listen to them too much if you want to remain as wise as you are.”

'You shouldn't listen to them too much.'

Egelric laughed. “Lord, you are undermining my paternal authority.”

“It would take more than a jester like your humble servant to undermine your gravitas, old man. Besides, this Baby is wise enough to get by, if we let her.”

“None of your nonsense!” Iylaine reminded him, and they all laughed at her favorite joke.

'They all laughed at her favorite joke.'