Sir Sigefrith stood at the edge of the birch grove.

Sir Sigefrith stood at the edge of the birch grove. Though he shivered from anxiety as much as cold, he was tired enough to lean against a tree. He also rested his left hand on the hilt of his sword, and it provided him some comfort, as it always did, though he knew it would little avail him this night.

The house had been dark and still when he had last seen it. There had only been the small lamp on the kitchen table that Wynflaed lit when she waited for him, and it had gone out as soon as she had seen him. Now every lamp in the kitchen was blazing, and the little mother’s room was bright. Never had home lights looked so foreboding to him.

Never had home lights looked so foreboding to him.

Only a few hours before, it had been dark and still. Only a few minutes before, he and Wynflaed had been almost happy.

He knew the lights were not lit because they had found her missing. Mouse had known of her sister’s love for some months, and she would have explained to Os or even the little mother if her absence had been discovered. There was only one explanation for so much light in the middle of the night.

He had told Wynflaed he would wait a while here for her, in case she needed him, or in case there was anything he could do. Now he saw a flash of light as the door opened, and a small, dark form stepped out of it and came running down the hill.

A small, dark form stepped out of it and came running down the hill.

She did not slow as she reached him but threw her body against his. He squeezed her as tightly as he dared. He was afraid to ask.

“Can you go for Father Brandt?” she whispered.

“Now?” he replied stupidly.

“Right away.”

“Oh, Wyn…”

'Oh, Wyn...'

“I must go back.”

“Shall I return afterwards?”

“No.”

“Might I not see her tonight?”

'Might I not see her tonight?'

“Not tonight, Sigefrith. How could I explain to her? She shall never know I was bad…” Finally she sobbed.

“But, Wyn!”

“I don’t want her to know. She would be so sorry. You may come in the morning, if it isn’t too late. Or – even if it is.”

“Tell her I love her. And that I shall take care of her children.”

She nodded.

'And I love you, Wyn.'

“And I love you, Wyn. And I shall take care of you.”

She nodded again, and she smiled though she cried. The sight moved him more than either tears or smiles alone would have done. It was very hard to love a girl who was in pain when one was stupid and had only a sword.

The only idea he had was to kiss her, which she but briefly allowed.

The only idea he had was to kiss her, which she but briefly allowed.

And then she was gone.

And then she was gone.