Sir Sigefrith gives his opinion

Sir Sigefrith glanced out the window as he strode into the King’s study. From the height of this tower, one could see over the walls and down the long, slow slope to the river.

On the horizon far beyond, the peak of Thorhold was wrapped in a rosy mist like a cloak of wool, but the twilight fell upon the naked valley in a crystalline glare that promised a night of bitter cold. Sigefrith had been lord long enough to have observed that the cold made the peasant’s hunger all the harder to bear.

“Well, runt, how are the roads?” his godfather asked him.

“Clear, but icy in the ruts.”

“That’s all the good the thaw did us. Can you stay for supper?”

“Oh, that’s why you want to know how the roads are,” Sigefrith smiled. “You only want to know whether Eadie will be able to come.”

“I’m beginning to believe that your father is behind the weather we’re having.”

“He’s a poor hand with it, then. Half the time he keeps her away from you, and half the time he obliges her to spend the night.”

“Then I get supper and breakfast,” the King laughed.

“But nothing in between. That’s my father’s only care.”

“Too true,” he sighed.

“Only six more months, isn’t it?”

“Damn, don’t get me started counting the days!”

“Brit is.”

“She is?”

“She has a string of beads with one for each day and takes one off every night before bed. I thought you knew. Eadie told me.”

“That girl,” Sigefrith smiled fondly. “She does love your sister.”

“I should like to know who doesn’t love my sister.”

“I only wish Caedwulf did a little more. He liked her well until he learned I meant to marry her.”

Sigefrith shrugged.

“Well, that obviously isn’t why I sent for you, runt. I should like to have your opinion about something that’s been troubling me.”

“My opinion?”

“It’s about my young squire.”

“Oh…” Sigefrith shifted nervously in his chair. “I’ve been meaning to have a chat with him about that, but I… I have been so distracted with the – with the farmers.”

The King blinked at him in surprise. “A chat about what?”

“Estrid, I mean. I already told him… Wait – this is about Estrid isn’t it?”

The King smiled.

“Oh Good Lord,” Sigefrith groaned. “I’ve done it again.”

“Don’t tell me he’s still seeing Estrid.”

“I suppose he is.”

“Damn you youngsters! What’s wrong with your generation? I should like to know whom you all mean to marry once you’ve run through all of the young ladies.”

“I married Hilda,” Sigefrith offered helpfully.

“Does Brede mean to marry Estrid?”

“He had better, if he has… I mean, assuming they have…”

“What about Eirik?”

“Oh, that…”

“Never mind,” the King sighed. “I suppose I’m glad you told me. It does concern to some extent the matter on which I wanted to ask your opinion.”

“Oh – what was that?”

“Brede, as I said. But I wasn’t thinking of his… that. Listen, runt – you know Brede fairly well. What do you think of him? Aside from that.”

“Oh… I… I suppose you know him better than I.”

“I suppose I do, but I should like your opinion anyway. You obviously know a few things about my squire that I do not.”

“Oh…” Sigefrith squirmed.

He was flattered that the King wanted his opinion, but he was always nervous about giving it. He thought his cousin a remarkably clever man who was surrounded by positively brilliant men, and Sigefrith felt like a dolt around them. He preferred questions that could be answered with swords and sweat.

“You are aware that his brother and sisters will be coming here?” the King asked after an awkward moment.

“Oh, yes, he told me.”

“I am trying to decide what to do with the lot of them. I believe that Brede had intended to bring his mother and family here when he became a knight and had a home and an income.”

“That’s what he said.”

“That should have been two years hence. Now, what shall I do?”

“I… don’t know…”

“How old were you when I knighted you?”

“Sixteen. I believe Brede is already older than I was then.”

“I see.” The King sat with his chin in his hand for a moment and thought. “I suppose you deserved it less than he. Although, if he keeps it up… Anyway – the more important difference is that you have your mother. In brief, runt, my two options are to leave Brede here until he is eighteen, and keep his brother and sisters in the castle with us, or to give him a knighthood and a house and a fee and let him keep them. But what kind of lord would Brede make to his men, and guardian to his siblings, all alone?”

“I don’t know. He’s far more clever than I am.”

“I believe you underestimate yourself, Sigefrith, though God knows you have acted like an idiot several times in recent memory. But you’ve acted like a man since I put you up on your hill.”

“Perhaps that is why I stopped being an idiot.”

“I don’t know. It isn’t because I pile responsibility before you that you take it up. That’s simply the kind of man you are. I should like to know what kind of man Brede is.”

“Oh, I understand. So it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t fight very well.”

“No, it doesn’t matter at all.”

“Oh, I see…”

“My other problem is that I just gave to Aengus the house I had meant to build up for Brede. So now I would have to find something else for him.”

“Oh.”

“But that’s not important. Tell me what you think of Brede.”

“Oh…” Sigefrith was at a loss.

“Well?”

“What about his sisters?”

“What about them?” the King asked.

“Sigrid must be quite a young woman by now. I believe she’s only a little younger than Estrid.”

“Oh! And so we want to send our young libertine to stand guard over his sister’s virtue?”

“I was thinking Eirik might be a problem.”

“Eirik?”

“Wouldn’t that be a wicked sort of revenge?”

“Damn! Your squire frightens even my jaded self at times.”

“He doesn’t like Brede.”

“I believe the sentiment is returned. But you like him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“If I piled responsibilities before him, would he take them up or let them sit?”

“I think he would take them up. He’s a good man. He wants to do well – you’ve seen how hard he works to learn to fight, even though we are constantly humiliating him. And I believe he has grown up a bit since he learned of his mother’s death. I believe he’s starting to think more seriously about things.”

“Ah! At last! You’ve finally produced something resembling an opinion.”

“I have?” Sigefrith asked and then smiled when he realized he had.

“Thank you, Sigefrith.”

“You’re welcome, Sigefrith.”