Egelric hurried up the path, sorry he had not taken the mare that evening. He had walked all the way to the forge to enjoy the spring evening, and in the end had spent several hours chatting with the smith. Now it was no doubt too late to play with Iylaine before her bedtime. He would be lucky if he found Elfleda still awake.
As he stepped out of the woods, he noticed an odd, light-colored bundle lying on his doorstep.
Well, this was surely no animal, and it was far too big for the cat to have brought this time. Was this some kind of game?
He clenched his fists and strode forward, but as he got closer the pale bundle resolved itself into pink flesh and white cloth. His heart gave such a bound that his whole body shook with it. Iylaine!
He ran the few remaining yards and then stood on the stairs, uncomprehending at first, and then quivering with rage.
It was not Iylaine, praise God. No, it was a pig. Someone had taken a pink piglet, slit its throat, clothed it in a child’s dress, and left it at his door. To complete the horror, the piglet’s ears had been chopped off and stuffed in its mouth.
It was a long while before he had mastered himself enough to take the dead piglet out to the barn. He prayed God that Elfleda had not seen it.
Afterwards he waited outside, trying to calm himself and listening for Elfleda – he couldn’t face her now if she were awake. But as he waited, the utter stillness of the house began to terrify him. What if the pig had only been a warning of what awaited inside?
He unlocked the door with trembling hands and stepped into the house. In the soft glow of the banked fire he saw only his own familiar room. Little Iylaine slept in her cradle with her dolly, and Elfleda in their bed, in all her beauty.
He got undressed, but he couldn’t bear the thought of lying still in bed, pretending to sleep. And so for half the night he paced before the fire.
That's horrible!!!