Egelric asks for a nurse

“Good day, seat!” Alred cried. “Have an old man!”

“Good lord! And how are you, my morning?” Egelric grinned.

“Damn you, Egelric!” Alred laughed. “Why must you always show yourself more clever than I in front of my children?”

Egelric sat next to little Lord Cynewulf on the big couch and asked the boy, “Am I teaching you anything you don’t already know?”

“No!” Cynewulf said. “But my father can beat you with swords.”

“But I’m bigger than he. What do you think of that?”

“That doesn’t help if he fights you with a sword.”

“It was his idea to make me a knight, so you can blame him if I’m a worthless one.”

“Did you ever try jousting?” Cynewulf asked.

“Oh, not you, too!” Alred groaned. “That’s all the youngsters care about these days. Even the five-​year-​olds!”

“It is not a sport for the old and decrepit,” Egelric said.

“You’re not old,” Cynewulf said and paused for dramatic effect before adding, “But you are ugly!” And then he squealed and leapt away as Egelric began to tickle him.

“Reminds me I should go tease-​I-​mean-​visit Brede this afternoon,” Alred said.

“You might save that to cheer you up after we go see Ethelmund,” Egelric said.

“Oh,” Alred winced. “Don’t tell me…”

“She passed on last night.”

“Damn,” Alred swore softly.

Cynewulf stopped giggling, having seen the adults grow suddenly sober, and he came to sit with Egelric again. “Did someone die?” he asked in a whisper.

“The toy man’s wife died last night,” Alred explained. “How’s my little namesake?” he asked Egelric.

“Still doing well. I saw Alwy. I rather wish Githa had switched the babies’ names—no offense to Your Grace—because he seems to have taken it hard. His last three babies died, and now a baby named for him.”

“Poor old man,” Alred sighed. “I should get up to see Gunnilda, too.”

“Will he still make toys now, Papa?” Cynewulf interrupted.

“I suppose he will,” Alred said, “but perhaps he won’t feel like it for a while. I think we shall simply play with the toys we already have for now.”

“That’s all right,” Cynewulf sighed. “I suppose I’m getting a little old for toys, anyway.”

“Thank you for reminding me of your advancing age, Old Man,” Egelric said. “I have a favor to ask you,” he said to Alred.

“What will it be my honor to do for you?”

“I should like to have your nurse for Wulf and Gils. You know I was thinking to take one of Aylmer’s girls, but Wulf has come to be quite fond of yours. And I know she knows how to handle elves.”

“Oh, she knows! She’s had to handle your daughter’s fits of fire-​spitting temper for years!”

Egelric chuckled. “Neither of my boys have shown evidence of that yet. Certainly not Wulf.”

“Ah, no, I think he and Cenwulf’s boy are vying for the title of sweetest baby in the kingdom. What about Iylaine? Has she decided?”

“Oh, I think she means to stay here,” Egelric sighed. “I think she simply doesn’t know how to tell me. If you’re willing, of course.”

“Delighted, of course, though I am sorry for your sake.”

Egelric shrugged and fell back against the couch. “I suppose it would be cruel to keep her away from Malcolm now.”

“Cruel to Malcolm, perhaps. She’s still a little young.”

“You had better stop thinking like that if you mean to keep her here,” Egelric said ominously. “The worst mistake one can make with Iylaine is underestimating her. In any domain.”

“If I have learned anything from six-​odd years of living with a fire-​spitting elf, it is not to underestimate her. And that goes for Malcolm too, and twice as much when they are together.”

“Ohhhh, Malcolm,” Egelric moaned and hid his face in his hands. “God help me! He’s my only hope!”