Eadgith asks a favor

January 12, 1076

Sigefrith groaned inwardly when he heard Eadgith’s voice following her knock. At least he had taught her to knock.

“Enter!” he called.

She hesitated in the doorway, watching his face. He gave her a weary smile, and she relaxed.

She hesitated in the doorway, watching his face.

“Sigefrith, I should like to ask you a favor. Perhaps I have no right to it, but…”

“If it is in my power to oblige you, Eadgith, I shall be happy to do so. Come in and sit down, dear. I’m too tired to stand.”

“You’re half a gentleman, Sigefrith,” she scolded playfully. “You won’t sit when ladies are standing, so you make them sit. But I’m too nervous to sit, for I must ask a favor of you, and you look bearish tonight.”

“Don’t you get tired on your feet, grandmother?”

Don't you get tired on your feet, grandmother?

“There you go again,” she giggled.

“You still laugh like a girl. And blush, too, behind all your freckles.”

She giggled again. So, he had done his duty and cheered her up. Now he only wondered what sort of favor she had in mind.

“You still tease as much as when we were children,” she said.

“Admit that I no longer pull your hair.”

“You might, if I still wore it in braids.”

You might, if I still wore it in braids.

“I might at that,” he agreed. “Now what great favor did you mean to ask of your bearish lord?”

“Sigefrith, I have thought about what you said, and I should like a house of my own. I am only your poor cousin, and can only come a-​​begging to you, so don’t be hard on me and make me dance. But you gave Leofric a castle, and I only ask a small, snug house for me and Eadgith.”

He smiled indulgently at her and began to speak, but it seemed she could not resist interrupting him with a bit of petulance.

“After all,” she said, “when Leofric returns you will be quite inconvenienced by having me here. I should hate for you to have to miss seeing your dearest friend and cousin because I am in the way.”

“Oh, Eadgith,” he sighed. “Don’t make me dance either.”

'Don't make me dance either.'

“I’m sorry, Sigefrith,” she sniffed, “but that’s how I see the situation.”

“And I’m sorry you see it that way. I told you, I love you both, and don’t like to have to choose.”

“That is why I am choosing for you. I shall get out of your way.”

“You’re not in my way.”

“It seems I am. But it is no matter. Will you, cousin?”

'Will you, cousin?'

“Will I give you a house?”

“Only a small one. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You are no burden, dear. It is a delight to have you and Eadgith with us again. And I have more land than I have farmers, and it would be nothing to me to offer you some of it. However, I wonder whether you do not wish to wait to see what Sigefrith will do?”

“Why? What will he do?”

“I have no idea what he will do, or what Haakon will ask of him. I only offered him a knighthood and six hides of good land on the hills behind the church for his fee, to start himself. If Haakon offers something better, I suppose we shall soon hear of it.”

“Oh, Sigefrith! Do you think he will come back to me?”

'Do you think he will come back to me?'

“I hope he does. Otherwise Swein Forkbeard’s great-​​great-​​grandson will be in thrall to a Norseman, and I should hate to have to answer to the old man for that when I get to Paradise.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed, dear, if he chose to remain with Haakon after all. More to the point, I didn’t want you to be angry with me for not offering him more.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Eadgith, the boy is only fifteen years old – ”

'Eadgith, the boy is only fifteen years old--'

“He shall be sixteen in but a few days.”

“Granted. That is still a very young man. There is more to being a knight – and to being a man – than fighting, for all I have heard he fights like the devil. He obviously has a lot to learn. He has evidenced that by getting his lord’s thirteen-​​year-​​old daughter – ”

“Fourteen now.”

“Thirteen then, with child, first, and second by running off with – with I don’t know whom, because he didn’t like his father’s manners. I flatter myself that I am being very generous with a boy who has made nothing but trouble for me since I laid eyes on him last summer.”

“Oh, Sigefrith,” she smiled, glowing, “I believe he will come home.”

'I believe he will come home.'

“I hope he does. However, he was wise enough not to promise me. In any case, Eadgith, as I was saying before you forced me to reveal my clever schemes, I would recommend that you wait at least until we learn what Sigefrith plans, before you make any plans of your own. Wouldn’t you prefer to live with him and his little Hilda than bearish old me?”

“Would he and his little Hilda prefer it?”

“I don’t know, dear, but Sigefrith fights like the devil, and he adores his mother. I believe you could ask no better protection.”

“You may be right,” she said, growing pale.

“There now! Aren’t I always? Will you be patient? We shall have a letter before long – if only from Haakon, demanding his three half-​​marks of silver.”

'We shall have a letter before long--if only from Haakon, demanding his three half-marks of silver.'

“Oh, but Sigefrith! What if he never made it at all! We have only heard from Leofric, and he was still in Denmark.”

“As soon as the words had left my mouth, I knew that last sentence was a mistake. I am certain that Sigefrith made it in one piece, dear, at least to the coast. My messenger is a capable man.”

“Then why hasn’t your mysterious messenger returned?”

“He is a funny character, that one. Sometimes he disappears for so long that, when he finally comes, no one remembers him any more. I assure you, you will forget all about the messenger once you have had a message from your boy.”

“Oh, Sigefrith!” she cried, and she threw her arms around his neck suddenly as she liked to do. “If he only comes home, I shall be almost happy!”

“Then I shall be almost happy for you,” he chuckled, gently pushing her away.

'Then I shall be almost happy for you.'