Egelric stopped just outside his shack and stared up at the rising moon. It was as round and bright as a silver coin, and it seemed enormous there just above the tops of the pines.
So much time had passed already since the moon had been dark and they had found the dead elf. So much time would pass again before the next new moon. God only knew what awaited them then.
Alred opened the door at the top of the stairs without knocking. He did not really expect to find Sigefrith inside, but perhaps he should have known.
“Anyone else but you, and the dragon would have slain you at once,” the King slurred from the bed, pointing at Alred with an unsteady hand.
Brede found the building empty when he arrived. He laid down his sword and shield and strolled out into the center of the ring. The shield on the far wall caught his eye, as always. It was magnificent—and it was his honor to carry the King’s shield.
Sigefrith was affable enough that was it easy to forget that he was a lord, if an outlaw, or, if one preferred, a king of a small kingdom, such as there had been in olden times before England had been united under one king. Whatever he was, he too was magnificent.
“Da!”
Egelric grunted. He was only half-awake even now, but he had the impression that Baby had been trying to wake him for some time.
Alred sat on the floor with Emmie on his lap, and with Britamund on the left of him, Colban on the right, and Caedwulf before him. Brit and Caedwulf could be made to laugh through jokes, and Colban through tickles, and while Emmie didn’t laugh much these days, she was happy as long as she was being hugged.
The guard at the door announced the Earl, and Alred looked around in surprise. “Well, what are you doing here tonight, old man?”
Eadgith was flustered already by the broad smile of the young guard who had opened the door for her, so she was utterly discomposed when she saw Sigefrith sitting on his throne across the hall. Oh, why hadn’t she come in through the back stairs?
But he looked up at her and smiled.
“Are you asleep, Edris?” Cenwulf asked with a voice that was rather more dull than soft.
Edris was not asleep. She had heard him come in and had been listening to him undress. Thus far she had made no sign of having heard; he was usually very careful not to wake her, and, not knowing his reasons, she usually preferred to let him believe he had not. Tonight he seemed to want her.
Leofric hadn’t found Sigefrith in his study nor in the room where Maud had been sleeping in the last weeks, and he was beginning to run out of places to look. He thought he would take a walk to the kitchens, where, if he did not find Sigefrith, he might at least find a mug of ale.
But the door at the end of the passage opened before he reached it, and he paused, wondering whether it might not be the man himself.
Eadgith strolled slowly from wall to wall, holding baby Lissa against her neck. She was so warm, so soft, so tiny, so sweet… Eadgith thought the only things she lacked were whiskers and a purr.
Leila leaned wearily back into the couch, idle in her fatigue, but the corners of her mouth turned up in a faint smile that Eadgith knew could last for hours if she were not disturbed. In fact, she was likely to be disturbed soon, for Raegan and Cedric would wake from their nap before long, but for a little while they would have peace.
The northwestern tower was long finished, and the workers rarely came into it any longer, which was why Egelric liked to use it for private conversations.
However, his private conversation with Aylmer had only just begun when he was surprised by the sound of a pair of boots hurrying up the stairs, carrying a breathless messenger who burst through the door an instant later.
“Never forget it, my son. Never let it be forgiven.”
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