Egelric comes for Iylaine

“Oh, Egelric,” Gunnilda murmured when she saw him. He looked so terribly sad. 

“Good evening, Gunnilda,” he said politely.

“I guess you was out working the harvest today,” she said.

He had searched for weeks – by day, by night, on foot and on horseback – and some part of her was relieved that he had at last stopped searching. She had watched him growing closer to death every day. But she couldn’t bear to see what the loss of hope had taken out of him.

“Oh, Egelric,” she blurted, “Don’t give up hope! I can’t believe they took that baby to do him harm. I think they’ll love him and take care of him just as you do Baby. And, Egelric – I do believe you’ll see him again some day. I do believe it.”

Gunnilda took him by the sleeves and shook him gently, as she did when she was trying to get an idea into Bertie’s head.

Egelric gazed stonily at her for a moment, and then he asked, “How was Baby today?”

“Oh, she was real good. She always is. We just love having her around. Bertie has been teaching her and Wynn to turn somersaults, you should get her to show you. You should hear her laugh!”

“I will, Gunnilda, perhaps later.” he said dully. “Where is she?”

“Why – at home! Elfleda came and got her after supper.”

“Elfleda? Already?” he asked, seeming alarmed.

“Why, yes. Was that wrong?”

“No – no, of course not. I was only surprised. I thought she would still be here. I had better get home. Good night, Gunnilda.”

Gunnilda watched him retreat into the woods, his back lit by the last light of the setting sun. He seemed hurried – and troubled, which troubled her. But he no longer shared his thoughts with her.