“Wyn?” the thin voice called from behind the door after the knock. “It’s Iylaine.”
“Come in!” Eadwyn called after a quick glance at Leofwine. Leofwine appeared to be amused.
“Have you—oh!” she cried when she saw who else was in his room. Eadwyn knew Leofwine’s opinion of Iylaine—which some girls would have found flattering—and hers of him was quite apparent. Young Iylaine was a poor hand at hiding what she thought of people, considering how much time she spent with the master of duplicity, Malcolm.
“We c-can’t go out while it’s snowing,” Eadwyn reminded her.
“It’s not your day to take me anyway,” she said, still watching Leofwine out of the corner of her eye. “I was simply—”
“Bored?” Leofwine proposed.
“Well?” she asked, bristling. “You don’t look so busy yourselves.”
“That’s true. Have you taken pity on us and come to amuse us?”
“Amuse you how?” she asked, wrinkling her pretty nose.
“Mmmmm… dance for us, Salome.”
“Dance for you!” she cried.
“You danced with Eadwyn a few days ago at the castle.”
“I—I had to! And anyway, dancing with someone is not the same as dancing for someone, you stupid boy.”
“No? How is it different?”
“Because when you dance with someone, he is dancing too, but when you dance for someone, he is only watching.”
Eadwyn tried to catch Leofwine’s eyes. Of course Leofwine knew the difference perfectly well. He was only amusing himself with the girl.
“Well?” Leofwine smirked. “I’m lazy. I prefer to watch.”
“She’s not S-s-salome, you ninny,” Eadwyn said. “She’s Vashti.”
“Who’s Vashti?”
“Idiot! Have you ever opened a B-b-bible in your life?” Eadwyn knew that Leofwine’s education had been poor, and he meant to humble him a bit before the girl by reminding him of it.
“I know!” Iylaine said. “Her husband the king told her to come, and she refused, and so he got a new queen, who was Esther.”
“And she doesn’t even know how to read!” Eadwyn said to Leofwine.
Iylaine sat on the bed beside Eadwyn’s feet, apparently well-pleased with herself, and generous with him after the compliment he had paid her.
“So perhaps the kings will dance for you, Vashti,” Leofwine said. “What say you, Wyn?”
“I say she and I shall dance, and you may p-pipe us a tune.”
“Oh, no! You danced with her the other day. My turn now.”
“I don’t want to dance with anybody!” she cried. “I only came to ask where Dunstan was.”
“He’s out with his father and mine,” Eadwyn said.
“Can’t your father go anywhere without the Duke?” Iylaine whined.
Now it was Eadwyn who bristled. “He and the Duke are f-f-friends.”
“He used to be the Baron’s friend all the time.”
“He still is! But he’s f-friends with the Duke, and when he c-comes here he can see me.”
“Then why aren’t you with him?”
“Because he didn’t want to miss you when you came to his room this afternoon,” Leofwine grinned.
“Shut up, Leof,” Eadwyn muttered. “Why don’t you like my f-father, anyway?” he asked Iylaine. “Whatever did he do to you? He always tells me how p-pretty you are.”
“Oh, that’s his mistake!” Leofwine laughed. “Every time I tell her she is, she stomps on my toes.”
Iylaine waved a foot menacingly before him. Leofwine snatched at it and kissed the toe of her slipper. He very nearly earned himself a kick in the face, but ducked away in time.
“I don’t say I don’t like him,” Iylaine said after making a vicious face at Leofwine. “It only seems as if he’s always following the Duke or the Baron around like a dog all the time.”
“Well?” Leofwine asked. “You’ve been known to follow a certain gentleman around like a dog all the time.”
“What?” she gasped.
“Not one of the gentlemen currently present, alas!” Leofwine sighed.
“Shut up, Leof,” Eadwyn growled. “Leave her alone.”
“If only you knew how you cheat yourself, Iylaine!” Leofwine continued grandly. “When you could have the undying devotion of a gentleman such as I, or even, I shall grant him, Squire Eadwyn here. You err, Iylaine, you err,” he said sadly. “You don’t realize that it is you who are following a dog around.”
Iylaine leapt to her feet. “What?”
“Quit it, Leof,” Eadwyn warned.
“No! He shall tell me what he means!”
“Now, Iylaine,” Leofwine said gently. “I am only thinking of your own good—although I admit I would be overjoyed if you would allow me to follow you for a change, unworthy dog that I am—”
“Leof…” Eadwyn said.
“Shut up!” Iylaine snapped at him. “I want to hear what he wants to say.”
“No, you don’t,” Eadwyn said.
“Yes, I do! Tell me, you beetlehead!”
“I suppose you should ask Wyn to tell you, since I wasn’t there,” Leofwine said. “But I shall tell you what I know—and only to warn you—which is that young Squire Malcolm has not shown you the fidelity one would expect from a loyal dog—”
“What?” she shrieked. “What? What? Malcolm?”
Eadwyn got up and approached her gingerly from behind. “Iylaine…”
“What?” she shrieked, at him now. “What is this?”
“Only that our young squire was not entirely sorry to stay behind in Denmark this autumn,” Leofwine said, “on account of the little blonde sweetheart he had found there.”
Iylaine shrieked something that sounded more like a dying animal’s strangled cry than any English phrase.
“Shut up, Leofwine!” Eadwyn barked. “You weren’t even there!”
“I’m only telling what you and Bertie told me!” Leofwine gasped with an air of offended innocence.
“Tell him he lies!” she commanded Eadwyn.
“W-well—I—” Eadwyn stuttered. “I m-m-mean… she wasn’t his s-s-sweetheart or anything…”
“Oh, but there was a she! There was a she! Very fine! And you think to taunt me with this! Damn you! Damn you! The devil eat you both! And make a barrel of your ribs and a flask of your hides! I don’t care! I don’t care!” Her voice, which had started as a growl, had risen in pitch to an ear-shattering shriek by the time she had reached the last “I don’t care,” and she topped that by slamming the door behind her as she fled.
“What in G-god’s name did you do that for?” Eadwyn asked in exasperation.
“I like to see her angry,” Leofwine laughed. “She’s even prettier that way, don’t you think?”
“I think you’re an ass.”
“I know, but it was fun. Besides, she ought to get her pretty head off of Malcolm for a while. He’s not so grand, simply because he’s a lord’s son.”
“At least he’s k-kind to her.”
“Is he?” Leofwine asked. “Do you call that kind, what he did?”
“Oh, shut up, Leof. That’s n-n-nothing. It’s n-not as if he was in love with the girl.”
“So? I don’t know what a girl hates more—if her sweetheart loves another girl, or if he still loves her and lies with another.”
“I would have thought you would have figured that out by now,” Eadwyn grumbled, “having tried all combinations of girls and sweethearts and loving and lying.”
“But this girl is an elf, don’t forget. I wouldn’t mind trying some combinations with her,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the bed.
“You never will.”
“Not so long as Malcolm is in my way.”
“Is that what this was about?”
“That—and also because I like to see her angry,” he laughed.
Chapters
That was laughably evil. I don't know how you do it, Lothere. It's hard to entirely hate most of your characters - except Hilda.