Alred takes a detour

October 18, 1078

'Why don't you come home with me for supper?'

“Why don’t you come home with me for supper?” Alred asked Leofric as the two waited before the gatehouse of the castle for Alred’s horse. “We’ve already had a proper dinner.”

“Oh…”

“Still afraid of my little wife, are you? How do you suppose the two of you will ever make up if you refuse to see one another?”

“Perhaps one of us will forget why we aren’t speaking to one another, and speak.”

“Why are you feuding this time? Matilda claims already to have forgotten.”

“Something silly.”

“Necessarily. Who started it?”

'Necessarily.  Who started it?'

“I suppose it started itself,” Leofric muttered.

“Shall we call in Sigefrith to arbitrate?”

“Certainly not. Listen, Alred – ”

“Oh, I don’t mind that the two of you don’t want to see one another, except insofar as it prevents me from seeing the two of you at the same time. Honestly,” he sighed, “I’m not even certain you would have to see her tonight. She doesn’t come down for supper half of the time, and when she does, I believe it’s worse for everyone. And Egelric isn’t here either, these days, and Sigefrith prefers to stay at home, and our young knights are busy with their young families, and our old Earl is busy with his old one, and in the end that leaves me with precisely two friends, namely Father Grim and Father Grumble.”

Leofric chuckled.

Leofric chuckled.

“If I invite them both together, I can at least have the fun of priest-​​baiting. But even that sport gets old after a time. Why don’t you come after all? We might engage in a little… what did we call it? That thing we did when we were young? Carousing?”

“Speak for yourself,” Leofric laughed. “I haven’t given it up.”

“Then you might remind me how it’s done.”

'Listen, Alred...'

“Listen, Alred…”

“I know,” Alred said, holding up his hands to stop him. “Never mind. I shan’t make a pest of myself. I don’t want to see you turn and run every time I come into the room.”

“Why don’t you come home with me tomorrow, instead? Leila would be delighted. I believe she gets lonely.”

“Are you certain you want to invite me at a time when your wife is too bulky to outrun me?”

“I shall set Cedric at your heels if you try to chase her. He won’t even share his Mama with me most of the time.”

“At that jealous age, is he? Well, I shall think about it, old man, and I thank you for the invitation. The truth is, I don’t like to leave Matilda alone lately. Of course, she might not even notice I was absent… although I suppose that’s all the more reason not to leave.”

“Is she so very poorly?” Leofric asked with an uncharacteristic gentleness.

“Married these fifteen years and I’ve never seen her so low,” he murmured darkly. “Not even when our baby girl died.”

'Married these fifteen years and I've never seen her so low.'

“I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps you should be!” Alred said, regaining his look of good humor. “I hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps she’s only sulking because you haven’t been to see her in I don’t know how many months!”

“I do doubt that,” Leofric laughed awkwardly.

“Perhaps what she needs is a chance to bitch at you. That always cheers her up. But I don’t mean to make a pest of myself…”

“If I thought it would help, I would come.”

'If I thought it would help, I would come.'

“If I did?”

“Next time, Alred,” Leofric pleaded. “I shall need time to think of what I might say to her.”

“Just a moment – was this quarrel serious?”

'Just a moment--was this quarrel serious?'

“Perhaps more than usual, but nothing to trouble you.”

“You don’t suppose it’s truly troubling her, do you?”

“I doubt that.”

“Very well. I can see I’m being a pest, but luckily for you, here comes my horse. I shall bid you good even, and ask you to kiss your fair daughter for me if Sigefrith ever gives you a chance.”

'I shall bid you good even.'

“Don’t forget you’re invited tomorrow. I shall leave after dinner.”

“After Dora goes down for her afternoon nap, you mean,” he said as he mounted his horse.

“That’s probably more accurate,” Leofric laughed.

Alred bid him a last farewell and rode out through the gate and across the bridge, but once on the road he stopped. He stared across the gray-​​brown fields and up the slow rise to the downs, and then he stared down the road to the river, edged with its bank of poplars that glowed like red gold in the twilight, and to the rosy, faintly misted hills far beyond. He stared until Bacchus began to dance sideways in irritation.

“You’re right, old man,” he said softly. “We’ve already had a proper dinner.” He turned his horse’s head and began to ride down the road towards the mill bridge. “Besides, who knows but that elves are excellent cooks?” he said with a hard laugh.

'You're right, old man.'