Cenwulf comes home

Cenwulf smiled to himself when he heard the squealing and the bustling coming down the stairs. His steward bowed and went out without a word, but with a pleased chuckle.

And then the door flew open and slammed against the wall, and Baldwin launched himself at his father. “Papa’s home!” he cried.

Cenwulf laughed at him, and laughed to hear Edris coming in behind him, wailing, “Baldwin! I told you to wait!”

“I think it safer to let them come at me one at a time!” he said as Ardith’s little body came crashing against his legs.

Cenwulf laid a hand on each of their bobbing heads and looked up just in time to see Edris come into the doorway with little Ceolred in her arms, and with such a smile that any man would have declared her a great beauty then.

“Papa!” Ceolred cried, and he held out his arms and leaned away from his mother so suddenly that she nearly dropped him. Thus he had to greet the baby as well, but finally he plucked the boy away from his mother and sat him on the floor, and then he ignored his clamoring offspring long enough to take his wife into his arms. He had been looking forward to this for many weeks, but he saw now that he had forgotten just how good it felt to have her there.

“We were so worried about you!” she whimpered against his neck. “Sigefrith has been home for weeks!”

“Ah, yes,” he said. “Wynn told me you never saw my letter, nor, more importantly, my messenger – namely your brother.”

“Raedwald?” she gasped and lifted her head.

“Raedwald,” he said and kissed her, now that her head was near. Even her woman’s curiosity was no match for this. It took Baldwin to break that spell, and even then there was only one word he could have said to do it.

“Papa,” Baldwin whined, “where’s Leofwine?”

Cenwulf winced upon hearing the name, and he could feel Edris smile against his lips.

“Home!” he told his son. “Where he shall stay until I have recovered my sanity.”

“Oh, Cenwulf,” Edris laughed. “What has he done?”

“He is the reason why I am home a month and a half later than I expected, which you would have known if Raedwald had ever bothered to come.”

“Why?” Baldwin asked.

“He broke his leg, and we had to wait for it to mend before we could travel. But that didn’t stop him from getting into trouble meanwhile, nor from climbing into and falling out of love three or four times!”

He tried to kiss his wife again to soothe his troubled spirit, but Baldwin would not allow it for long.

“But, Papa, how did he break his leg?” Baldwin asked with the hushed reverence of a little boy who believes that great injuries can only come from great adventures – a little boy too careful even to chew and walk at the same time for fear of choking, but who secretly dreamed of being a bold knight who laughed at danger.

“Oh, God help me,” Cenwulf sighed and looked up towards the heavens. “Jousting!”

“Jousting!” Edris repeated.

“Papa, what’s jousting?” Baldwin and his sister asked in unison.

“God in heaven!” he groaned. “It’s the latest fashion in Saxony. Every week there was a tournament somewhere, and the whole court had to pack up and go to it. The Baroness in the lead! God bless her, I think she wanted to try her hand at it herself!”

Edris laughed, but Baldwin and Ardith tugged at his hose in frustration. “But what is it?” Baldwin whined.

“It is where two very thick-​​headed men each get on a horse, and each takes a long, blunt spear and a shield, and they ride at one another as if they meant to crash their horses together, but instead they swerve at the last moment and try to knock one another out of the saddle with their spears.”

“Oh!” Ardith cried with open-​​mouthed awe.

“Did you do jousting, Papa?” Baldwin asked.

“No! At my age? I have a hard enough time getting into the saddle – I don’t intend to let anyone knock me out of it!”

“Did Raedwald?” Edris smiled.

“The Baroness in the lead, I meant to say, and Raedwald right behind. The only reason he stayed at Engern as long as he did this summer was for the tournaments.”

“Did he win, Papa?” Baldwin begged.

“He wasn’t bad,” Cenwulf admitted.

“Did Leofwine win?”

“Do you suppose the winners get their legs broken as a prize, Baldwin?”

“No!” he laughed.

“He won just often enough to get a fat head, and then the damned fool challenged a twenty-​​year-​​old behemoth from Kiev, and he’s lucky he broke no more than his leg. Nevertheless – God help us! – though I made him swear he would pretend he broke it falling out of bed – for God knows he was climbing in and out of various persons’ beds two and three times a night, on top of everything else! – I am certain he is already plotting to introduce the latest Saxon fashion to our sleepy little valley.”

“Let us prepare to welcome the twenty-​​year-​​old behemoths from Kiev!” Edris laughed.

“Where’s Kiev?” Baldwin asked.

“What’s a bow-​​hema, Papa?” Ardith added.

Cenwulf laid a hand on each of the little heads again and laughed. “God bless you! How I missed you all!”