Sigefrith makes a request

“Sigefrith!” Aengus cried happily as he came in, but Sigefrith thought he looked more weary than even the father of a newborn had any right to be.

“Well, meatwit,” Sigefrith said as he embraced him, “I am come to congratulate you, as you are obviously too proud now to come and be congratulated.”

“I have been meaning to come…”

“It’s no matter. It will give me the chance to see the beauties. Where are they?”

“In the bedchamber. I can fetch the baby for you, but Maire isn’t feeling well…”

“Understood. But I suspect the baby alone will be worth the trip. My cousin tells me she is lovely.”

“She can’t help that. I shall be but a moment,” Aengus murmured as he went back to his wife.

Sigefrith sighed and went to peer out the window at the muddy courtyard. His cousin had also told him that the baby wouldn’t live long, and he did not know what effect that would have on Aengus’s plans – assuming that Aengus had any as of yet.

“She’s sleeping, but you won’t mind,” Aengus said as he returned.

“She might,” Sigefrith said.

“Care to hold her?”

“It would be an honor. I would say she has your chin, but for the beard,” he added after a moment’s study of the girl’s face. “Let us hope that distinction remains.”

“It is a strange thing,” the young man said softly. “All these months there was this bit of a thing called ‘the baby’ that I wished away, for all of the trouble it had cost me. And now…”

“Not strange at all,” Sigefrith said hastily.

“There have been days where I have been almost happy for hours at a time,” he mused, staring down at his daughter’s pallid face. “I should thank you again for allowing us to bide here, Sigefrith.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“It has been a relief to Maire. We have needed neither hide nor suffer scorn. Certainly, there are a few who know, but they are friends, and forgive us, I think.”

“Of course we do.”

“Our family did not.”

“I suppose a family must look out for the interests of the family. Your friends only look after your own.”

Aengus smiled up at him. “I have never had friends who were not also my family.”

“You do now.”

“Aye. It is a grateful thing. And Maire feels it too, though she has been a bit bothered and worried these months. I think, now that the child is here, she will feel better soon, and thank you properly, and be happy.”

“I told you, there’s no need for thanking me, but I hope she does feel better soon. And happy.”

“I shall tell her you said so.”

“Tell her! Of course. Give her my love. But why don’t you do it right away, and take the little sprite back to her? I should like to speak to you for a moment before I get on to see Cenwulf.”

“Of course.”

Aengus took the baby and bustled back to the bedchamber, and Sigefrith returned to the window and the gloomy scene outdoors. He did not think either of the two would be very happy for long. He had little experience with sickly babies, aside from Harold’s last illness, but it was clear even to him that the little girl hadn’t long. Even asleep her every breath was a gasp for air. He wondered whether it had not been wiser to wait to speak to Aengus…

“Maire thanks you for your kind words,” Aengus said as he returned. “What did you wish to discuss?”

It was too late now, in any case. “I wanted to ask you for how much longer you intend to wear that kilt.”

“What do you mean by that?” Aengus laughed awkwardly as they sat.

“I should like to know what you intend to do now that the baby is here. When she and Maire are fit to travel, that is.”

His face grew sober at once. “Would you like us to move on?”

“Like it? On the contrary, I hope you will stay. I don’t know where you would go, in any event. There’s been famine everywhere. Indeed, I think we ended the winter better off than many, due to the abbot’s long parsimony where our corn was concerned.”

“I must speak to Maire of course…”

“Wait just a moment. I haven’t told you what I shall offer you and ask of you if you choose to stay. Of course, if you have long cherished hopes of being a farmer, I can certainly find a nice bit of land for you, but I believe that you were born and bred and trained to be something else, were you not?”

“It’s little enough about farming I know,” Aengus admitted.

“Indeed. And although I could always use more farmers, what I am most sorely lacking is knights.”

“I believe you said something about that once,” Aengus murmured. “I did not think you meant it, for I did not think you thought I would come.”

“I don’t often say things I don’t mean.”

“I have not behaved in the most honorable manner, Sigefrith.”

Sigefrith shrugged. “I’ve a knight who has two wives. I suppose I could live with a knight whose lady has two husbands.”

“Malcolm is dead.”

“I hope he isn’t.”

Aengus looked thoughtfully at the fire for a moment. “As do I. But if he is not dead, then I soon shall be.”

“I hope you will both live long and prosperous lives. But to return to my request…”

“Request? I thought it a generous offer.”

“It is a contract between us. That is what I want you to understand. If you remain, you shall have this house and the five or six hides of land surrounding it. In return, you shall field five men for me, and, more to the point, become my man, and swear to be faithful to me. Do you understand?”

Aengus nodded slowly.

“I mean that if circumstances change, shall we say, and Colban says you might come home, you shall say to him, ‘This is my home now, and this is my lord.’ Do you understand?”

“Aye.”

“Of course, you will speak to Maire, and I shall have my steward show you over the land and explain to what use it might be put. You might also wish to speak to your young cousin Malcolm, who has already planned how this humble little house of stone might be made into an impenetrable fortress – useful information if your old cousin Malcolm is not dead after all.”

Aengus nodded again.

“However, I shall ask you to think quickly. I need to know soon whether you will stay here or not, for I believe I shall make a similar offer to my cousin Brede in a few weeks’ time, and I had originally intended this house for him.”

“I can’t take this house if you meant it for your cousin, Sigefrith.”

“You can if I give it to you. I needn’t have offered it, you know. I have another idea for Brede which I like better in the long term, but I’m afraid that the house on that land was formerly a barn, and isn’t nearly as pleasant as yours. But there will only be his ungrateful self and his incorrigible younger siblings, so a barn is perhaps not the least appropriate place to stable them.”

Aengus smiled faintly.

“But I did mean what I said last autumn: you shall lose the kilt and dress like a man.”

“I didn’t realize that humiliation was part of the contract.”

“Forgive me for saying so,” Sigefrith said gently, “but your cousin Egelric has led me to believe that you have no right to wear it in the first place.”

Aengus dropped his head and muttered, “Not this color.”

“You shall wear red now. You understand that Gog is still my brother, and I intend to receive him here in the summer. My men shall not insult him in such a manner, though it is beyond me how such things as the color of one’s kilt can be matters of life and death in your barbarian country.”

“I understand.”

“There! You see? It is not the generous offer you originally thought. I ask much in return.”

“No, no, it is very generous. More than we deserve.”

“That is between you and Malcolm. I hope you will be happy here. I suppose Maire wishes she could be in a place where no one knows your names or your story, but I believe we have something better here. Those few that know your story are your friends, and wish you well.”