Bertie has some regrets

Bertie tried to hurry with his Latin. It would soon be time for supper, and he would have to go down to help get it ready. One of his duties as a page was serving his lord and lady at dinner. He didn’t mind serving the Duke or the Duchess – especially because the Duke always made jokes with him, for he had been a page once, too! But it was tedious to have to serve Dunstan – and especially that bratty little Yware.

He hadn’t had time to finish his Latin this afternoon because Malcolm and Caedwulf had been here. Dunstan had already finished his lesson two days ago – that was Dunstan! Bertie always saved his until the last minute. But he wanted to finish before supper, because he had been granted permission to go visit his family afterwards. Latin or no Latin, he would go, but he hated it when little Dunstan made him look bad before Father Brandt.

A servant came and asked him whether he had seen Iylaine.

“I haven’t seen her since just after dinner,” he replied, hoping the man would not ask him where. He didn’t want to admit they had been in the forbidden storeroom. But the servant went away again with only an apology for disturbing him.

He felt awfully bad about what had happened down there. He didn’t know what had gotten into Malcolm today. He was never gentle with his cousin – although he was polite enough with other girls – but he had never seen him mock her for being an elf before. That seemed as if it had been a bit too much.

It was true they had been discussing what to do about the elves. They had perhaps worked themselves up a little with their talk about what the elves had done to the various people they had killed, and what they would do to an elf if they found one – other than Baby, of course. Bertie had an odd feeling that some of those ideas weren’t particularly commendable either. Malcolm certainly had a vivid imagination.

Anyway, those ideas weren’t helping him with his Latin. He picked up his book and turned back to his work.

After he had finished his lesson, he closed his book and sat back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. He must be getting good at Latin. Either that, or supper was late today. Perhaps he would go see.

Before he had quite risen from his chair, the Duke himself appeared at his door. He didn’t look like a joke. Bertie wondered whether he had found out that they had been in the storeroom again.

“Bertie, have you seen Baby this afternoon?”

“No. Why?”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“After dinner. We were – ” He hesitated.

“You were what?”

“We were talking, and she wanted to play with us, but we didn’t want to play with her, so she went away.”

“Do you know where?”

“No. She never said.”

The Duke left again, and Bertie sat back in his chair, wondering. Baby must have gone off to pout somewhere. Perhaps Malcolm’s insults had hurt her more than even he had realized. He would go tell her he was sorry, and that he liked elves. And next time he saw Malcolm, he would tell him to leave his little cousin alone, even if Malcolm was a bigger boy than he.

Bertie checked in Baby’s favorite hiding places in the castle – he even looked down in the storeroom to see if she hadn’t shut herself up in there out of pique for having been chased out of there earlier.

He was about to go check in the stables when he ran into the Duke again – this time accompanied by his Da.

“Bertie!” the Duke said. “Where did you see her last?”

“In the storeroom under the hall,” Bertie said. He did not feel that it was a good idea to lie at this point. “But I just looked there.”

“Perhaps she climbed into a chest and can’t get out,” Alred said, jogging past him with his Da close behind.

Bertie ran on out to the stables. If his Da was here, it meant they had already looked at his house. Where else might she go? Perhaps to her own house.

He would check there after he looked in the stables. He thought it not unlikely that she had gone up into the loft to bury her sorrows in a pile of kittens, or else had gone to the stables to talk it out with her sweet-​​faced little pony, who had come to live at Nothelm along with his mistress.

But her pony wasn’t there.

Bertie stood open-​​mouthed before the empty stall.

“Wulsy,” he said as the tall groom walked by, “where’s Baby’s pony?”

Wulsy stopped and stared with him. “Well, I don’t know. I been to the smith’s all day. He’s out to pasture, maybe?”

“He’s not supposed to be.”

“I’ll go see.”

“Wait – where’s her saddle?”

“Her saddle? Humm.” Baby’s saddle was not on the rack.

Bertie went to find the Duke.

“Bertie! There you are!” the Duke cried in a sort of panic. “Does she have any places she likes to hide, or anything?”

“I already checked all around here. Maybe she went to her own house?”

“I already looked there,” his Da said softly. “No one saw her.”

“Oh, God!” the Duke said, hiding his face in his hands. “If the peasants…”

“But wait,” Bertie said. “Her pony’s gone. And her saddle.”

“Her pony?” The Duke looked up. “Damn!”

“Maybe she went out riding by herself and got lost,” his Da suggested.

“Get your dogs.”

“But wait!” Bertie said as the two turned to go. They stopped and looked at him. He would have to tell the truth – it might be important. “I guess when she left she was maybe real mad – or real hurt.”

“Why?” the Duke asked. “Because you wouldn’t play with her?”

“Noooo…”

“Well?”

“I guess Malcolm said some real mean things to her, and said nobody liked her, not even her Da. Because she was an elf.”

“And?” he snapped. “What were you doing all this time?”

“I don’t know…” he whimpered. “I guess I told Malcolm he shouldn’t say such things.”

“And what did Malcolm say when you made him apologize?”

“I guess I didn’t make him…”

“And what did Baby say when you went after her to tell her you were sorry and that Malcolm was wrong and that you did like her?”

“Well, I guess I didn’t go after her…”

“No, I guess you didn’t. Is that how we treat ladies here?”

“No, I guess not.” Bertie’s eyes fell before the angry glare of the Duke, and the disappointed frown of his Da.

“I’m glad you realize that. Now, go up to your room and think about that, and think about what you will say to Baby when you see her again, as I pray you will soon do.”

He turned and stalked away, but Bertie ran after him. “Wait! I want to help look for her!”

“You do, do you?” Duke Alred said, stopping but not turning around.

“I can’t just sit up in my room and think while Baby is lost somewhere. And maybe scared and cold.”

“It’s going to snow tonight,” his Da said mournfully.

“Aren’t you going to be scared and cold, boy?” Duke Alred asked him, pitiless.

“No, I guess I won’t be!”

“Fine, then. Get your horse saddled and go with your Da. Alwy, tell Matilda I’m taking a horse over to the castle to get Darius. I need a horse that can go fast and far. I have to go tell her father – and with any luck that’s where she was heading. Get your dogs, but hunt out that way first. If it looks like she went east, take the road, unless the dogs say otherwise. I shall take the hills. And before you go, try to find out who saddled her pony and see what he has to say for himself. Got all that?”

His Da nodded.

“And you,” he said, pointing at Bertie, “you can think about what you should have done while you’re riding.”