Matilda asks Alred about Egelric

“Where’s that young patriarch?” Alred asked as he came into the bedroom and walked up to the cradle.

“He’s already sleeping, Alred. Don’t wake him,” Matilda said from the bed.

“I shan’t wake him, poor old man.”

“Stop calling him an old man. You’re dreadful.”

“I call everyone old man.”

“Not your other sons.”

“Unlike Methuselah here, they don’t look old yet.”

“Oh, Alred!”

“Hush, don’t wake him,” he scolded, grinning. “Matilda,” he said as he went to open the chest, “I can’t help but call him old. He sleeps with that same slack-​​jawed expression my worthy grandsire always had when he fell asleep in his chair. It makes me want to try to toss a berry or something worse in there from afar, the way my brother and I used to do with poor old grandfather.”

“Your sons have inherited the pastime.”

“What? How?” he asked as he came around the bed.

“When you fall asleep after supper.”

“What? I never do.”

“Don’t you?” she sniffed.

“I never notice.”

“No – when you wake up you just carry on talking as if nothing had ever been. I’m sorry I told you now, for it’s one of our favorite games to watch you.”

“You’re lying to me, Matilda. You’re breaking my heart.”

“Only ask the boys. They will tell you.”

“Jupiter, I’m getting old or something.”

“Better old than something.”

“That’s so.”

“Come here, Alred, I want to ask you to do something for me.”

“Oh, Matilda,” he sighed. “My back still aches from two nights ago. What have you cooked up for me now?”

“Nothing like that,” she giggled.

“Oh. Then I am a bit disappointed after all. But let’s hear it.”

“I want you to talk with Egelric.”

“The old Squire, eh? What have you done to him now?”

“Nothing, Alred. I am worried about him, and I wish you would talk to him.”

He sighed. “Don’t you think I have tried? He’s as prickly as a hedgehog these days.”

“What’s the matter with him?”

“I don’t know. I suppose he’s worried about Baby. Also, I don’t know whether it’s true, but I heard he got mixed up with some kind of woman out there, and she died of a fever all of a sudden. Perhaps Egelric finally took your well-​​meaning but indiscreet advice and fell in love.”

“Oh, Alred…” She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, “It may be true, but I do not think he fell in love with her. He could not love that type of woman. Besides, didn’t we decide he was in love with Gunnilda?”

“Holy mother Juno, don’t say we ‘decided.’ Leave her out of this. Egelric hardly goes to see her any longer, either.”

“Well, that’s not good. He comes home every Sunday after Mass and spends the afternoon holed up here with Baby, and then he goes back again before supper. He didn’t even come home for Cenwulf’s wedding until the day of, and I suspect it was to miss your night of debauchery.”

“Matilda, there is far more debauchery going on in this bedroom most nights of the week than ever happened with the four of us hairy old men sitting around past our bedtimes and drinking warm wine. Egelric didn’t miss anything of import. Nevertheless I do wish he had come. He has a knack for finding clever rhymes with parts of the body.”

“My poor Egelric,” she sighed. “I only wish he would fall in love, with a good and unmarried woman.”

“You women think that’s the solution to all of men’s problems, don’t you?”

“He accused me of thinking the same once.”

“It can work out beautifully, my dear, as we two demonstrate, but it is not often that love meets with its like. Say, that’s good – I’m writing that down,” he said as he turned to grab the stick of charcoal and the scrap of parchment he kept beside the bed for just such poetic emergencies. 

“Look at Edris and Cenwulf,” he continued afterwards, “or Leofric and Eadgith, or even Sigefrith and Maud. There is always one who loves, and one who – we hope – at least allows him– or herself to be loved. And that is very fine for poetry, but it is not so pleasant a thing for life. Let the poor man’s heart alone, unless you can guarantee him a return of his affections – and I don’t mean you personally, my lady. But I believe his problems are deeper than that, anyway,” he sighed.