Sigefrith asks Egelric to guess

December 7, 1074

'Egelric, this is brilliant.'

“Egelric, this is brilliant,” Sigefrith said, looking up from the sketches spread out on his writing table. “I wish you wouldn’t feel obliged to ride all the way back here and ask me every time you have a brilliant idea.”

“I shouldn’t like to presume.”

“Presume! Please presume! I wouldn’t put you in charge if I thought you were incapable of making decisions.”

“I’m not incapable of making decisions. I simply remind you that we are working in stone. Each decision is weighty, if you see what I mean.”

'Each decision is weighty, if you see what I mean.'

“I do,” Sigefrith laughed. “Well, you certainly have my permission to do all of this. I’m certain Leofric would like to see, but he defers to me, and I defer to you.” He turned his chair around to face Egelric. “Now, tell me, how goes it with you?”

“Well,” Egelric said.

“The people leaving you alone now?”

“Oh, I suppose the excitement has died down a bit. The men out at the fort are good men, and they treat me well. No nonsense from them. But I’ve heard that people have come down from Thorhold to see the tree. I’m afraid my wife’s mother has learned of it by now.”

“Is that a problem?”

'Is that a problem?'

“She never forgave me for bringing Elfleda here. She blames me for Elfleda’s – for Elfleda’s problems.”

“I don’t like to tell you whether or not this was the best thing for you, Egelric, but I do think that you have done well here. I hope you don’t regret coming.”

“I don’t. Not every day, anyway,” he smiled. “And I can’t imagine life without Baby. If I had the chance to choose again, knowing I shouldn’t have had her if I had stayed, then I would have come. Might have done a few other things differently, but I would have come.”

“Happy to hear that. I feel much the same way, I suppose. Well! Enough of this grave conversation. Let us have a laugh. I have just the thing, too.”

'I have just the thing, too.'

“What’s that?”

“I want to play a guessing game with you.”

“That so?”

“I want you to guess what I found behind the chest in Maud’s old room over there.”

“I don’t dare guess what Her Majesty might or might not have had in her chamber,” Egelric said, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, you might dare. I’ll give you a hint – it belongs to you!”

“To me? Now I most certainly do not care to guess!” he laughed.

“Well then, if you won’t play my game, you must let me have my joke. Here!” he said, producing the ring. “Your grandfather’s ring, if my memory does not deceive me! Now, care to tell me how it got back there, Squire?”

'Your grandfather's ring, if my memory does not deceive me!'

Egelric’s stomach lurched. That wasn’t his grandfather’s ring. The stone on his ring was supported by a pair of hands on the band. This had the heads of stags. This was the ring of a son of Donald. This was Malcolm’s ring.

“Damn! You should see how red you are!” Sigefrith laughed. “Care for some wine? Throat a little dry?”

'Care for some wine?'

Egelric held out his hand and Sigefrith dropped the ring in.

“Been wondering where that was hiding, haven’t you?”

“I – I didn’t even know I lost it,” Egelric stammered.

“I suppose you were distracted at the time,” Sigefrith leered. “Damn, Egelric, snap out of it! I declare, you will make me suspect you if you wear that guilty look for much longer.”

“Oh, I was only wondering how it got in there,” he said. “Perhaps a little wine after all.”

'Perhaps a little wine after all.'

“Maud said she thought you dropped it when you came with your cousins to show Gog his godson for the first time,” Sigefrith said as he poured.

“You showed it to Her Majesty?”

“Oh, she went almost as white as you did red. Recovered more quickly, though,” he winked. “She’s a sly one. Well, you’re lucky we moved the furniture.”

“That was lucky,” Egelric agreed.

“Ah, wouldn’t I like to see those two ruffians again,” Sigefrith sighed, raising his cup in their honor.

Egelric did not reply, but he raised his cup to meet his King’s.