Alred Opens the Door

Alred woke, dimly realizing that something wasn’t right. He rolled over and looked around, but saw nothing out of place in the torchlit room. Ah, that was it – the torch was still lit. Too often he couldn’t make up his mind whether to sleep or not, and he would either put out the torch and then lie wide awake for hours, or leave the torch lit and fall asleep as soon as he lay down to relax a bit in bed. Tonight was one of the latter nights.

He got up thinking to extinguish it and go back to bed, but a breath of air from outside revealed that the night was warm – he would just step outside a moment and look out over the fields.

He stood a while with the moon at his back, listening to the frogs and thinking over the second tower that he and Egelric Wodehead had begun to plan. But he was tired, and after a time he turned back into the room.

As he pulled the door shut, however, he saw a flash of white behind it, and quickly stepped outside again. He was stunned to see his wife standing there – or rather slumping heavily against the wall, her eyes closed and her head leaning against the door-​​case.

His heart leapt to find her there. So at last she had come to him, and, too proud or too shy to open the door, had fallen asleep on her feet like a naughty little guard at her post. He moved to gently wake her by brushing the pale cheek where the moonlight lay.

But his hand stopped inches from her face as he had a second thought – what if she had come only to ensure that he was sleeping alone? He turned away, ashamed and angry and – unsure. 

He couldn’t leave her standing there like that, but he doubted she would appreciate having to face him immediately upon awaking, whatever her intentions.

But Matilda woke herself with a gasp as she noticed him before her.

He turned back to her. She looked away – ah! was she embarrassed? 

Alred thought he would risk a joke. “The punishment for a sentinel found sleeping at his post is either flogging, branding, or execution, depending on the danger of the night or the whim of the commander. What say you, soldier?”

She smiled, a little sadly, a little sheepishly. But she didn’t seem inclined to slap him and so he moved closer. “Or do I mistake you? Are you a prison guard? If so, I bid you notice your prisoner has escaped. I hope he wasn’t dangerous.”

She smiled wryly, with a corner of her mouth, as only Matilda could smile. Alred thought this looked promising. He reached down to take her hand. He knew very well that this was the first time they had touched since she had slapped him months before, but she didn’t pull away.

“Or perhaps his punishment has ended?” he asked hopefully.

She looked up at him through her dark lashes and nodded.

He knew better than to ask her to explain. Drawing her by the hand, he began to lead her back to her bedroom. “In that case, your duty has ended, and you may go back to bed.”

“I’m not that tired,” she complained.

“Who mentioned sleeping?”