Egelric asks for Bertie

Gunnilda sat sewing by her kitchen window in the slanting light of a late summer afternoon. Outside the wind blew, and, except for an occasional shout from Bertie, who played in the yard behind the house, its rushing over the grass was the only sound she heard. It was a strange thing to live so far from others after living for years right at the crossroads. She wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for the peace or to be lonely.

She heard Bertie come walking down the hall from the back door, and she called out without looking around, “Bertie, would you go see whether your Da left some wood out for supper?”

“He did, Ma,” a deep voice said behind her.

“Oh, Egelric!” she cried, startled. “I thought it was only Bertie.”

“Unfortunately, it is only Old Egelric. Bertie let me in the back.”

“Well, why don’t you put this big old thing on the floor and sit down for a while?” she asked, laying her sewing atop the great basket that sat on the table. “I was just thinking to myself that I was feeling a little lonely up here on my hill.”

“We can’t have that. What are you making? Another pretty dress?”

“Oh, I hope so, but it isn’t for me – it’s for Wynn.”

“Is it fair to us men to have two lovely women in this house?”

“Maybe it will help prevent us from being lonely,” she dared to tease.

“I fear that in times to come, when that girl is a little older, you will be happy to have the few moments of peace that the young men will leave you.”

“Oh, not Wynn! She’s a real shy one.”

“So were you, as I recall. Look at you now.”

“Oh pish! I always was real shy. I never had the young men buzzing around me.”

“Now, you see you could have. You’re as pretty as your sisters ever were.”

Gunnilda laughed. “It has been nothing but compliments from you and Alwy and the Duke and everyone else these past days. I can’t have a serious conversation with a man any more.”

“I’m here to prove you wrong, Gunnilda. I came precisely to have a serious conversation with you, and I shall do my best not to be distracted by your beauty.”

“Oh, go on with you!” she blushed.

“You know my cousin is here?”

“I haven’t seen him, but I guess Bertie has. He had one of my towels wrapped around him this morning, pretending it was a kilt.”

“I can picture that!” he laughed. “Indeed, I came to ask you about Bertie. I am going to Scotland with my cousin and the King in a few days, to see Malcolm married and Colban’s new boy christened. And I would like to take Bertie with me.”

“Bertie!” she gasped. “With you! To Scotland!”

“Aye, if I may. My two young cousins will be with us, and we three men. There’s little danger.”

“But he’s only a little boy!”

“He’s eight years old. Young Malcolm was not yet eight when his father brought him here from Scotland.”

“But those men are savages!”

“Oh, Gunnilda! They are no such thing.”

“But he’s only a baby, Egelric! He doesn’t – he doesn’t even know how to ride!”

“Oh, doesn’t he?” he laughed. “You might be surprised what that boy knows.”

“But Egelric – but why?” she wailed. “He’s only a baby! What use would he be to you?”

“I don’t bring him as a beast of burden, Gunnilda,” he smiled. “I think it would be good for him. How I would have loved to go to Scotland – to go anywhere – when I was a boy! It might have saved me from doing some foolish things when I was a young man.”

Gunnilda shook her head. Young Egelric Wodehead had been a wild one. But she could not believe her sweet, generous son capable of such escapades, whether or not he ever left the valley.

“Gunnilda, allow me to speak seriously with you, since that is what you desire. A boy is only a boy for so many years. But the things he does as a boy have a much greater importance than the same things done as a man. I have had the honor to know men who had the opportunity to travel and meet people and do things when they were lads, and I cannot but wonder what I might have become if I had had the same opportunity. I can promise you that he won’t be the same boy when he returns, and he won’t become the man he would have become if he had only stayed here and helped on the farm. He’ll be a wiser and a stronger and a better boy, and a wiser, stronger, and better man.”

“Well, I guess you make me feel real mean and selfish to want to keep him here with his Mama,” she said, her lower lip trembling.

“No, Gunnilda, I don’t think that at all. You’re being a good Mama, I’m sure. And I’m trying to be a good friend to him. He’s a remarkable boy, Gunnilda. He already writes better than I do. I believe he can be something much more than a farmer.”

“There isn’t no shame in being a farmer.”

“No, there isn’t. But many men can be farmers. The world needs other men to do other things, and few men are capable of them. And it’s hard to be a farmer when you’re capable of doing more, even if there’s no shame in it. I know.”

“You two will break my poor heart,” she sighed, staring out the window so he might not see the tears that threatened to come.

“I think your heart is better and wiser and stronger than that,” he said softly.

“Oh pish! I don’t know why I get so flustered. I guess it will be a real treat to get that boy out of my hair, that’s what! Me and Wynn can take care of the two little ones, but it’s that one heathen that ties me into knots. You can take him, and welcome!”

“I must ask Alwy.”

“Oh, Alwy will just tell you to ask Gunnie. You go tell the boy, but you take him out real far from the house first, so I don’t have to hear his hooting and hollering.”

“Thank you, Gunnilda,” he grinned. “I will.” He rose and pushed his chair in, and then he stood behind her for a moment, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I promise I shall bring him home to you again.”

“Oh, you better if you know what’s good for you!” she said, patting his hand, but not daring to look up at him.

He retreated down the hallway, and she heard the door open and slam, and then she let out all of her breath in one silent sob.