“So what was the favor you wanted to ask me?” Egelric asked.
“Oh, that!” Sir Sigefrith laughed awkwardly. Under the agreeable influence of Alwy Hogge’s celebrated cider, he had almost forgotten why he came. “I should say that I can’t expect another favor after the tremendous generosity you have shown me in introducing me to your lovely wife.”
Malcolm snorted.
“You may thank Malcolm for bringing you,” Egelric said. “All I did was open the door.”
“Ah, but you did not slam it upon my face.”
“You don’t frighten me,” Egelric chuckled. “Moreover, you do not know just how strong a fully grown elf can be. Sela can defend herself from any lecherous advances.”
“What about half-grown elves?” Malcolm giggled. He too had been enjoying the cider.
“Boy!” Egelric barked, and then he smiled slowly. “I don’t even know, but you can be certain their fathers can defend them if they can’t defend themselves.”
“Oh, I’m certain!”
“We shall drink to that,” Egelric proposed, and they did.
Malcolm’s boldness was surely due in part to the cider, Sigefrith thought, but even so, it was remarkable the way he permitted himself to tease Egelric.
Sigefrith himself was still slightly in awe of the man. He knew he could have cut Egelric to ribbons if it came to fighting with swords, but he would not want to meet him in a fistfight. Fortunately he had no reason to believe that Egelric would care to fight with him, but all the same, the man was so unpredictable…
“So what is it?” Egelric asked.
“Oh! Well…”
“What is it, Malcolm?” Egelric asked the boy.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I owed him a favor, so I brought him when he asked.”
“Couldn’t you have done him this favor, then, instead?”
“Apparently not.”
“Well, what is it then?” Egelric asked again. “Is it about a woman?”
“Well…”
“It is!” Malcolm crowed.
“No!” Sigefrith laughed. “I mean, it’s about three women. And two boys.”
Egelric whistled. “All yours?”
“They’re not mine! Or—wait, I suppose they are. That is, they’re tenants of mine.”
“I see. And?”
“Well, will you be coming to our side of the river once a week or so while we’re away?”
“I shall be coming nearly every day. My lord intends to leave me the oversight of his affairs.”
“Oh, good! I mean—do you suppose you could check in on them once in a while? I don’t trust their hands.”
“What about the father or husband or whatever these three women and two boys have? Wait—these aren’t Brid Oswaldsson’s family, are they?”
“Yes, they are! Did you know him?”
“The devil I did! You want me to keep an eye on Brid Oswaldsson’s family?” he laughed.
“Is that wrong?”
“Didn’t you ever ask Brid where he got the scar on his cheek?”
“You gave it to him?”
“I did.”
“You attacked Brid with a knife?” Sigefrith gasped.
“With a knife? That was my head that did it!”
“Your head! Good Lord!”
“A little problem with his betrothed changing her mind at the last. Ah, but that was many years ago,” he sighed nostalgically. “Before either of us were married.”
“And before your head got all soft from lack of use,” Malcolm added.
“Boy! But I suppose he should have thanked me for it—though he never did. I was not the first man to give his first sweetheart second thoughts, though I was the only one bold enough not to hide it. And if he had married her, he wouldn’t have married the fine lady he got in the end.”
“She is fine, isn’t she?” Sigefrith gushed.
“Too fine for the likes of me,” Egelric said and raised his cup. “But for you?” he shrugged.
“Not for me,” Sigefrith cried. “Good Lord! The poor woman.”
“She was once very beautiful.”
“Well, she still is. I only mean…”
“I suppose her daughters are,” Egelric grinned maliciously. “I would be the last man Brid would have allowed to see them. How are they?”
“The younger one is cute,” Malcolm said. “I never saw the older one. Stein says she’s prettier.”
“What’s Stein doing looking at her?” Sigefrith protested.
“He only looks.”
“Which do you prefer?” Egelric cackled.
“It’s nothing like that!” Sigefrith wailed. Egelric and Malcolm only laughed.
“If it were ‘nothing like that,’” Egelric said, “you would have answered at once, just as coolly as my cousin here with his ‘cute.’ And you reassure me, Malcolm, by having noticed.”
“But they’re my tenants!” Sigefrith said. “And I’m only looking out for them because—because somebody has to! I don’t trust their hands.”
“That may be, but they would be safer with a nice, snarly dog guarding them than with you,” Egelric said.
“I don’t mean that kind of looking out for them. I don’t think their hands are that type of dangerous. Although…”
“What kind did you mean?” Egelric laughed.
“I mean, I think their men are working as little as possible, and when they do work, they contrive to steal as much of the produce as possible. Which means they are robbing me of my own income, after all!”
“Look at him, all red-faced over his income!” Egelric said confidingly to Malcolm, who laughed until he was red-faced himself.
“You are insulting three ladies,” Sigefrith huffed.
“We are doing nothing of the kind. Have some more cider and see if it doesn’t give you a sense of humor.” Egelric filled Sigefrith’s cup again. “We are only insulting your intentions with regards to one or more of these ladies.”
“I only want to help them!”
“The devil knows I don’t care how or how often or in which position you ‘help’ any of them,” Egelric said. “I simply think it a fine joke that I am being asked to stand guard over Brid Oswaldsson’s wife and daughters, and it’s even funnier to be asked by you, and it becomes frankly hilarious when I see you trying to justify it by referring to your income.”
“Will you though?” Sigefrith asked meekly.
“What do you want me to do?” he sighed. “And how often, and in which position?”
Malcolm laid his head down on the table and laughed.
Sigefrith scowled. “You’re both being dreadful.”
“Listen to the little maid!” Egelric laughed. “I’ve heard far worse come out of your mouth, young man, and with regards to women who were other men’s wives and daughters. Thankfully, not my own. Though I am now beginning to regret having introduced you to Sela.”
“She can defend herself,” Malcolm reminded him.
“By the grace of God!”
“Egelric, do be serious a moment, please,” Sigefrith said.
“Very well,” he said and let his laugh die. “What shall I do?”
“Only go by their farm once I have gone and put the fear of God into their hands, as you know how to do better than almost anyone. And then show up and surprise them once a week or so—the hands, I mean, not the ladies—and show them the wrath of God if they have not been honest.”
“I must remember not to leave my godhead at the house,” Egelric said thoughtfully and rubbed his beard, and Malcolm put his head down and laughed again.
“Will you?” Sigefrith asked miserably.
“Aye, I don’t mind, if only for the joke on Brid. Though the devil knows I never had anything against the man. Will you warn the ladies, in case Brid had already warned them about me?”
“I hope you won’t show yourself to them.”
“That’s courtesy!” Malcolm cried.
“I mean,” Sigefrith said, “that I haven’t mentioned anything to them about my mistrust of their hands. As far as they know, they’re running everything themselves.”
“Ach! Do you suppose Brid’s children are as stupid as that?” Egelric asked.
“They don’t seem to suspect anything,” Sigefrith said.
Egelric and Malcolm exchanged a glance that reminded Sigefrith that he was in the company of men far more clever than he.
“Very well,” Egelric said. “I shall go and operate upon their farm not as God but as the Holy Ghost.”
This time Malcolm caught Sigefrith’s eyes. Egelric could be disconcerting with his easy blasphemy. Sigefrith could take the name of the Lord in vain, but he went faithfully to Mass, and he believed.
He was beginning to wonder whether Egelric was the best man to send to watch over the little mother and her children—but no one could master working men like Egelric. They did indeed seem to fear Egelric as Sigefrith feared God. Or, he thought, perhaps it would be better to say that they feared him as Sigefrith feared the devil.
That's sweet. He wants to make sure they're okay while he's gone. I like Sigefrith.