Matilda is carried away

Matilda awoke at the sound of the bell. Lauds, surely! That dread hour of the night… she hated it so! Leila’s people reckoned that a day ended at sundown, and the English that it ended with the night at dawn, but for her the break came at Lauds, that grim hour…

One of the last requests she had made of Alred before she had lost the ability to speak was that Father Aelfden no longer ring the hours of the night, or at least omit Lauds. Alred had believed it woke her from her troubled sleep and had gladly put a stop to it, delighted to have, at last, something he could do for her.

But it would seem that Father Aelfden had forgotten, or that they had simply forgotten her so quickly that her request had been lost with her. Oh, that bell rang like a reckoning for her! How she hated Lauds!

At Christmas in Nidaros, she recalled, the sun rose an hour after Terce. She did not know how close they were to Christmas, but she knew she was far from Nidaros. The dawn would come again.

Leofric had been right. No night would ever be long enough. And she had thought this one would never end!

But the bell rang and rang and rang. Surely Alred’s mad priest had truly gone mad at last.

She opened her eyes, hoping to find Alred, or at least a servant she could send to silence its racket. But there was only her father.

“Oh! Daddy!” she cried. “But it isn’t even dawn! That is only Lauds, I think.”

He laughed. “We are closer to dawn than you know. And what kind of soldier lazes about in bed until dawn anyway?”

“No kind of soldier,” she sighed.

“Only the naughty kind.”

“Oh, but please, won’t you sit with me a while?” she wheedled.

“I have been sitting with you for a long while already.”

“Oh no! Then I wish you had woken me. I don’t like it when you watch me sleep.”

“But it’s the only time you ever sit still!”

“We might have talked a while instead.”

“We shall talk on the way. Come up, soldier! It’s time to go.”

She smiled her sweetest smile at him. “Won’t you carry me, please?”

“Oh, Matilda!” he groaned. “Every time, I tell you it shall be the last!”

“And it never is!” she giggled. She held her arms up to him – both arms, strong and young.

He leaned over the bed, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him pull her up and scoop her into his. What a fine, tall man he was! How she loved him! And how he loved her!

“It never is!” he laughed, and he kissed her smooth and smiling cheeks and carried her away.