Once he had calmed Sela and seen her and the boys comfortably installed in the bedroom, Egelric rejoined Ears in his kitchen. The elf was staring down into the last dull embers of the fire.
“If I had known you were coming I would have kept it up,” Egelric said to him. “I’ve been hoping to see you for days now.”
Synne ran into the hall as she always did, but Murchad saw at once that she was not as she always was.
“Murchad! Did they tell you?”
“Praise God!” Theobald cried and leapt from the bench. “He’s here!”
“Have the Father join us, please,” Egelric said to the man that had opened the great door for Leofric and his wife.
Father Aelfden walked slowly up the road, not because he was trying to watch where he placed his feet—the night was moonless, and watching would have little availed him in any case—but because he was deeply troubled. He had just spent several hours arguing with Father Brandt about the nature of time, and he had come to the disturbing conclusion that he agreed with the old priest on this matter.
Even more disturbing was that he had now to attempt to resolve the problem that had plagued the priest and the Duke for years: if God and the universe existed outside of time, and if time was only perceived in the minds of men, and if, as they had agreed, animals had minds that did not perceive time, then it meant that animals had minds that more nearly resembled the mind of God than did the minds of men, at least in this sense.
Captain Eadred was the only one of the four guards present who had previously descended into the crypt, but he was no less nervous than they. Perhaps a little more: he knew for how long the horror of the place would remain with a man after he had gone back up to the world again. For years afterwards he had dreamed of it.
As soon as he climbed down into the first chamber, Eadred noticed that there were no footprints in the dried mud on the floor, aside from the Baron’s own.
Bran leaned heavily against the wall and amused himself by blowing on the fringe of hair that hung down over his face. Each time it lifted like a wing until he stopped to take a breath, and then it fell back over his eye.
He had done this fifteen or twenty times before he heard boots running down the stairs of the tower opposite the guardhouse. He stood to attention just in time, for it was the Baron himself come down.
Theobald was at first more confused by his surroundings. It took him a moment to realize that he was at Sigefrith’s castle and not at home in his own bed. It was only then that he noticed what had awoken him.
There was a bat in his room. An enormous bat had somehow found its way into the room and was careening wildly around the bed. He had left one of the windows slightly open, but he had not realized that it had been wide enough for a bat to enter. Surely this one must have found its way down through a hole in the ceiling…
Lord Leofric lay with his eyes half-closed and stroked his fingertips lightly over his wife’s shoulder. Lady Eadgith thought to herself that the only thing that could have made her happier then would have been that God make her cat enough to purr. His arms were as strong as she remembered, and they were around her, and for the first time in over fifteen years, she did not feel unwanted.
Iylaine followed her father into the great hall at the castle, so sullen that she had not even responded to the whispered greeting of the funny, freckle-faced guard whom she ordinarily liked. She had wanted to spend the afternoon with her father—they were to have ridden out to Yware’s castle to visit Aylmer and his family—but the Baron had unexpectedly arrived. Her father had forgotten all about their ride as soon as he had learned.
She did not doubt that Freya and Ana had accompanied him. They were such good friends with Synne. For the first time, she was not sorry that Malcolm was not there. And wouldn’t Synne be the fine lady and parade her little sweetheart before them? Ever since she had been betrothed to Murchad, she had acted as if Malcolm was utterly beneath her notice. Because he was only Lord Colban’s son and not Lord Aed’s! She hadn’t been too fine a lady for him before Murchad came along!
“Mother?” the young Queen quavered.
“Where’s that little dragon?” Lady Eadgith asked, though the baby was quite obviously in his mother’s arms.
“Be kind to him, Wynnie. He’s a good man, but soft. That sort of man is soon spoiled by a hard woman.”
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