Malcolm is left behind

Iylaine hurried up the wooded hill, her head high, as if she had somewhere she wanted to be that had nothing to do with Malcolm. She had met him right at the gate when he had come riding in after dinner, and she had been in such a haste to be off that she had boiled with impatience as he unsaddled Druid and put him out to graze.

Now Malcolm strode along beside her in a sullen silence that seemed to trouble her not at all. He knew that she only wanted him there to permit her to leave the castle, and he thought that, at ten, she lacked the tact to hide it.

He had been pleased, at least, that he might finally solve the mystery of these early pink flowers and the meaning they had for her, but even that was to be denied. At some distance from the glade in which they grew, she stopped and asked as politely as she could, “Malcolm, would you kindly wait here for me? Please?”

“Wait here?” he asked, suddenly suspicious. “Why?”

“Because I want to be alone a while.”

“I’m not to leave you alone out here.”

“I know, but it isn’t any danger.”

“The devil it isn’t! It’s danger enough for me, if your father learns I left you alone!”

“He won’t find out. Please, Malcolm?”

Malcolm thought rapidly. There were two possible explanations: either she truly did wish to be alone, or she wanted to meet someone without his knowledge. And judging by her reaction last year, the flowers had something to do with it. Whom could she wish to meet to whom she might give, or from whom she might receive, early flowers?

The only person who came to mind was Bertie, but if that was all she wanted, she could have simply dispensed with his own presence and gone to the woods with Bertie. He did not know of any other boys or girls to whom she was close. Therefore if she meant to meet someone, and assuming it was not someone entirely improbable, it was someone he did not know.

And then he thought of her father’s fear that the elves would try to speak to her.

Malcolm hesitated for a moment – this last idea was too troubling. But he had long since learned the wisdom of keeping one’s suspicions to oneself until one had indisputable proof – if one spoke too soon, it became that much more difficult to learn more.

Thus he did not ask her what she meant to do. “I don’t like the idea,” he said.

“Please, Malcolm,” she begged sweetly. “Nothing will happen. I only want to be alone a while and… and… enjoy the spring. If you’re near I shall only think about you, and I won’t notice the birds or the flowers.”

He shook his head slowly. She was still too young to have learned that it was always best to say the least possible when one meant to lie, but the power of flattery seemed to be already within her ken.

“For how long?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully, as if she meant to be truthful in this at least. “A while. Or perhaps not very long. I don’t know.”

That was a clue. If she merely meant to sit a while, she should be able to say for how long. It appeared that she did not know how long she would have to wait for her visitor – or perhaps how long he or she might stay with her.

“Where will you be?” he asked brusquely.

“You know. Where the flowers are.”

He folded his arms across his chest and thought. “I don’t like it,” he said finally. “It’s impolite of you to drag me out here for this, but more than that, I think it’s dangerous.”

“It isn’t dangerous, I promise!”

“How do you know?”

“Because I – because nothing will happen. Nothing ever happens. Besides, if you sit here and wait, and I scream, you will hear me and you can come.”

“That is not a very reassuring thought.”

“But, Malcolm, please!” she begged. “I’m an elf! I need to be out in the woods sometimes – I can’t stay locked up in the castle all the time. Or I might be sick or die!”

“Nor is that,” he said. But he thought it not unlikely that it was true.

“Please, cousin!”

“Very well,” he sighed. “I shall sit here, all alone and lonely, and wait for you.”

“Oh, Malcolm,” she said softly. “Don’t be mad at me.”

He only grunted and sat on a log.

“And don’t you follow me!” she threatened, the sweetness suddenly falling from her face. “I can hear you from far away, you know!”

He glared up at her. “You would insult my honor, too?”

“I’m sorry, Malcolm,” she said, sweetly again. “I shall be very nice to you afterwards, I promise!”

He scowled and waved her off, and she ran away at once.

She was still a child, he thought, and believed that it sufficed to “be very nice” afterwards to make up for a wrong. She did not realize that it was for her own sake that he had let her go. He had long thought that she spent too much time indoors for any young creature, much less an elf.

But it was hard on him after all, to be used in such a way and left behind. If Sigefrith ever found out about this, he thought, he would tell him that he was in a fair way to qualifying himself for being a squire.