'Will you stay for dinner?'

“Will you stay for dinner?” Sigefrith asked.

“I had better,” Theobald said. “I don’t like to surprise Edris with my ravenous belly.”

“Thinks you mean to eat her, does she?” Sigefrith chuckled.

“No, I only meant that they do not often entertain.”

'No, I only meant that they do not often entertain.'

“They do lately, since Edris can’t ride out any longer. But you’re probably right about not surprising them. If they haven’t invited Alred and Matilda this noon then you might be looking at cold meat and bread.”

'If they haven't invited Alred and Matilda this noon then you might be looking at cold meat and bread.'

“Convent food or what?”

“Edris has a good cook and knows what good food is. Those two knuckleheads simply don’t care—at least not when they are alone.”

“They don’t know what is important in life,” Theobald sighed.

'They don't know what is important in life.'

“Oh, perhaps they do and we don’t.”

“I prefer to remain misguided.”

Sigefrith opened his mouth to agree, but then a frantic knock came at the door of his study.

A frantic knock came at the door of his study.

“Who’s this then? Enter!” he called.

The door flew open. “Oh, Sigefrith!”

Theobald and Sigefrith both exclaimed, “Githa!”

'Githa!'

Theobald’s first thought was that he had forgotten something and that Githa had brought it. Then he realized that she could only have come for something terribly important. The children?

But she only had eyes for Sigefrith. “Oh, Sigefrith, we have had news!”

It was not the children.

“Githa,” Theobald interrupted, taking the hands that she anxiously shook into his own. “You shouldn’t have ridden down here.”

She looked tenderly at him for a moment, as if she had only just noticed he was there. “It will be all right,” she promised him.

'It will be all right.'

Theobald knew she had a rather more generous idea than he of how long an expectant mother might be allowed to ride. He only hoped she had ridden more gently than her agitation would suggest.

Githa turned back to the King as if her husband had disappeared again. Now it was Sigefrith who took her hands. “Will it be such a delight to tell me that you could not resist bringing the news yourself?” he smiled.

'Will it be such a delight to tell me that you could not resist brining the news yourself?'

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” she said. “It isn’t good news—or—I don’t know what it means. I came as fast as I dared.” She glanced over her shoulder at Theobald. “I didn’t want to—I didn’t trust—I didn’t know—”

“Let’s hear it, and then we shall calm ourselves,” Sigefrith said gently.

“Oh, Sigefrith! King Swein is dead!”

'King Swein is dead!'