Sigefrith learns something about Leofric

It was only just dawn, and Sigefrith had risen early so that he might write to Theobald without interruptions for a change. With two children of interrupting age, plus Malcolm, plus his wife, plus Eadgith and Leofric and their children all staying at the castle, he was rarely allowed an hour of peace.

But apparently even rising at dawn was not enough, for he heard the door open behind him, and someone enter the room. It was not a servant, unless it was a servant that wanted to be punished for entering without knocking.

And such quiet feet could only belong to a woman, he thought. Oh, Maud! Had she come to him of her own will? And for what? He hoped, for a moment, and almost believed, that she simply wanted to see him, like one of the shy deer that came to her now even when she did not sit with a handful of corn.

But it was not Maud.

“Oh, Sigefrith!” The anguish in that trembling voice tore through his frail little dream and chilled him.

“Eadgith!” He rose at once, but he stopped beside the chair when he saw her face across the room.

“Where is Leofric?” she cried.

“Eadgith, what has happened?” he asked, unable to believe what he saw.

“Where is he?”

“I was told he left before dawn, dear. He said he was going to find your son. What happened?” He gently brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers – a cheek that looked swollen and bruised. Her left eye was worse, and her lip was cut. All of this was familiar to him, having been a rowdy young man and a soldier, but he had never seen such on a gentlewoman’s face. It was so incongruous as to seem impossible. “Did you fall?” he asked, finally hitting on a plausible explanation.

“Oh!” She gave a choking laugh. “It is what I always told Sigefrith! Mama fell. Mama hit herself with the door. Mama bit her lip.”

“What happened?” he repeated, still uncomprehending.

“Leofric did this!” she cried. “I told him I would tell you.”

Sigefrith took a step away from her in spite of himself, as if she were an impossible, unknown creature and, hence, potentially dangerous. He remembered also that he had once feared himself capable of doing such a thing to his wife, when he had had too much to drink. But no. He saw now that he could never do such a thing. He had never been that drunk in his life.

“I forgot to lock the door,” she blubbered, beginning to cry. “He must have checked every night.”

“You locked your door?”

“I forgot! Tonight I forgot, because I went out again to ask Eadgith… I forgot.”

“You’ve been locking your door against him?” It still didn’t quite make sense to him.

“He came the first night. He didn’t hit me – no, he did — he slapped me. After that, I locked the door.”

Sigefrith remembered then that Leofric had wanted to go to her the night he had arrived. And Leofric had been drinking. Of course, Leofric always was drinking. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” he asked.

“Tell you what? I am his wife.”

“I would have put a guard.”

“Against what? I am his wife, as he has since reminded me.”

“Forgive me, Eadgith, but I don’t understand.”

“You have no right to keep him away from me. I have no right to lock my door against him. He may forsake me, he may take another wife, he may forget me, he may dishonor me, but after all of that, I am still his wife, and he may still do what he will with me. That is what he meant to make me understand tonight.”

“I don’t understand,” Sigefrith mumbled.

He did understand what she was saying – but it was all more than he could comprehend. He knew, he had always known that Leofric and Eadgith had not married for love, and he knew that such things were possible – but not his own friends, his own family.

“My poor dear, what did he do to you?” he asked, lifting a gentle hand to her face again.

“What he would! What he would.”

“But why?”

“To show me he could. And because he’s furious with me – he meant to punish me – he believes that I sent Sigefrith away. He believes I told him lies about his father – as if I should need to tell him lies in order to make him hate his father! And I’ve been telling him for weeks that he should go find him! My own boy! Because of him!”

She threw her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder.

Sigefrith was overwhelmed. He could have faced Leofric just then, he would have known exactly what to do with him, but Eadgith was another matter. He had no idea what to do with a brutalized woman.

“Now, Eadgith, I’m certain that Sigefrith has simply gone back to his Norsemen. You will hear from him soon enough, if he doesn’t come to you himself. But tell me about this – shall I understand that Leofric was already like this years ago?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me, dear?”

“I told Colburga. I did. But what could we do? He was my husband. He still is.”

“You should have told me. You should have told a man.”

“Oh, you in those days! Leofric could do no wrong in your eyes.”

“You should have opened my eyes for me, then. Tell me something – would you have come here if you had known that Leofric was here?”

“I – I don’t know. Perhaps I should have written first. I only thought to find you again, Sigefrith. And even when you told me he was here, I thought perhaps he would leave me alone, happy enough to get rid of me. I thought he would go back to his castle and his woman, and I could stay here, with you, Sigefrith.”

“Would you like to go away now?”

“I want to stay with you,” she repeated, clinging to him again. “My lord and my cousin.”

Leofric too was her lord and her cousin, but he did not remind her of this.

“I told him I would tell you, this time,” she said. “And then he hit my face, because he knew he would not need to hurt me where it could be hidden. But I have told you!” she said with a small smile of triumph. “And you won’t let him hurt me again, Sigefrith.”

“Of course not,” he agreed, but he wasn’t sure how far he could go to prevent it. Eadgith was still his wife.