Sigefrith gets a lesson in poetry

“Alred!” Sigefrith cried upon stepping onto the arched walkway of the small cloister. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“They didn’t even tell you?” Alred asked. He sat beside Eadgith on the stone bench that was the sole furnishing of the shadowy court. “I was told you weren’t to be disturbed, but your fair wife took pity on me and invited me to sit with her in the shade.”

“You poor darling,” Sigefrith said fondly. “I had not thought this spot sunny enough for you and had not bothered to do anything with it yet – and now you spend your evenings here.”

“It’s no bother,” Alred said. “I get plenty of sun throughout the day.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, you ninny,” Sigefrith laughed.

“If you were talking to Eadgith, then I should like to remind you that some flowers bloom best in the shade. Only think of violets, for instance. The shyest are often the sweetest. There – look at the bloom on her cheeks.”

“I shall never need to learn to read poetry as long as I have you, Alred,” she said.

“That’s a lovely compliment.”

“If you two have finished,” Sigefrith said, “I should like to sit down.”

“You may sit in my lap,” Alred offered.

“I had thought of something along those lines, but since both of you only come up to the level of my armpits, the safest course of action for all knees concerned is for Eadgith to sit in mine.”

“If that is what passes for poetry with your husband,” Alred said confidentially to Eadgith, “you will need me around for the rest of your life.”

“May one not mention armpits in poetry?” Sigefrith asked as he took Eadgith’s place on the bench and pulled her down onto his lap.

“I shan’t rule it out, but it takes a deft hand. You might have said, for instance, that we only come up to the level of your heart, which is quite the same thing but already more poetic.”

“I’m too old to learn,” Sigefrith sighed.

“But you’re not too ugly,” Eadgith said.

Sigefrith laughed. “God bless you two. Precisely what I needed.”

“What happened, Sigefrith?” Eadgith asked him with a charming expression of gravity. “Did my brother go home already?”

“Your brother didn’t go home, honey. He and Brede are getting ready to take a trip.”

“Where are they going?”

“To see Tryggvason.”

“What? Why?” Alred asked, sitting up so that he could peer around the back of Eadgith’s head into Sigefrith’s face.

“Brede is going to kill Eirik, and Sigefrith is going to prevent him,” Sigefrith sighed.

“Oh, dear!” Eadgith wailed.

“Sigrid?” Alred frowned.

“You made short work of that conundrum,” Sigefrith said.

“Damn!” Alred swore to himself. “I was getting suspicious about the habit the two of them had of disappearing at the same time. I should have said something.”

“What is it?” Eadgith asked anxiously.

“Poor darling,” Sigefrith said gently. “It seems that Eirik has, as they say, got Sigrid into trouble. Do you know what that means?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “Oh, dear.”

Sigefrith pulled her head down onto his shoulder so that he could look at Alred. “I believe Eirik intended to take his time, and Brede intends to ride there on the back of a whirlwind. He may make it in time to prevent a wedding. I only hope he does.”

“He means to bring him back here to marry her?”

“He means to kill him, but I believe Sigefrith will talk sense into him between here and yon.”

“Hmmph,” Alred grunted. “It would be a shame for the girl either way. I shouldn’t like him as a husband for one of my daughters.”

“Nor I.”

The three sat thinking for a moment before Sigefrith muttered, “I feel twice as hard-​​hearted when I think of how I sneaked Estrid and Eirik out of here to keep Estrid and Brede from pulling some such stunt.”

“I told you that was wrong,” Alred said. “I don’t believe they would have.”

“Let’s not start that again,” he sighed. “I’m merely saying I have additional reasons now. If I had spread the news, the girl might have had a chance to speak up, if she already had suspicions. Anyway, she believed he meant to marry her. I don’t doubt he told her so.”

“When did it – never mind…”

“Midsummer Eve or later,” Sigefrith said. “Earlier rather than later, Hilda figures.”

“Well, that’s time for him to get back here.”

“What’s the matter with the boys these days, Alred?” Sigefrith cried. “Were we such idiots?”

“All parties concerned are orphans, remember.”

“So were we.”

“We still had mothers.”

Sigefrith grunted and then remembered Eadgith, whose still lay docile against his shoulder, awaiting his pleasure. He wondered what would have happened if he had been such an idiot at that age, and had found himself yoked to some… to any other woman. Whenever he thought of how many events over the years had contributed to his being here now with her, the sheer precariousness of his current situation took his breath away. If any of those events had not happened just so…

“Damned fools,” he muttered, and he squeezed her. “They will never know what they might have had.”