Egelric gets a different reception
Egelric let himself be dragged into the hall by a scandalized five-year-old girl.
“Mama!” Ete cried. “Guess who this is!”
“Bless us!” Maire gasped, and then she laughed.
“Can’t you tell?” Ete asked.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Cousin Egelric!” Ete groaned.
“Bless us!”
Egelric winked at Maire. “That’s better than the reception I got from my daughter this morning. She took one look at me and screamed.”
“What did Lili say?”
“She told me I looked fifteen years younger. And I’m not certain whether to be flattered or insulted.”
“That depends on whether you intend to let it grow back again. Aengus!” she shouted as the court door opened. “Come guess who this is!”
Aengus strolled in and stopped short in the doorway, stunned for a moment.
“Lose a bet?”
Egelric laughed.
“What possessed you, Egelric?” Maire asked him.
“I think he got pitch in his beard,” Ete suggested, “like I did in my hair that one time and you had to cut it off!”
“That’s a clever idea, girlie,” Egelric said, “except that I don’t ordinarily tar barrels with my face. The truth is I shaved it off so that I could more readily kiss little girls.”
Ete squealed and hid behind her mother. Maire laughed and asked, “Why, truly?”
“That’s truly why,” Egelric grinned.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s a little joke on my lord. He caught me beneath the mistletoe with Lady Gwynn yesterday and decreed that no bearded creature shall be permitted to kiss his daughter.”
Aengus rubbed his own beard thoughtfully. “That’s quite a sacrifice for a ‘little joke’.”
“One must rise early – and shave – to pull a joke on that man.”
“Poor Gwynn!” Maire sighed.
“What do you mean, ‘poor Gwynn’?” Egelric huffed. “I forgot just what a handsome twenty-eight-year-old man I had hiding under there. Last time I saw him, he was eighteen.”
“Twenty-eight is still rather old, Egelric,” Maire scolded.
“I don’t intend to kiss the ‘poor girl’!” Egelric laughed. “The joke’s on Alred, not on my lady. She’s been carefully avoiding the mistletoe all morning. But I prefer them a little older, myself, anyway. That’s why I’m here,” he winked.
“Ach, you’re here to try out your twenty-eight-year-old on an eighteen-year-old?”
“Is that acceptable?”
“Perhaps not to Lili!”
Egelric looked around the hall. “Don’t you have any mistletoe around here, to give a man an excuse?”
“No,” Aengus said, “but we may have some later. Cedric and Conrad were here this morning to get Domnall – hoping he would know where some mistletoe could be found.”
Egelric laughed. “Will even the son of the Bearded One attempt to exploit his beardlessness this holiday season?”
“I’m afraid Son of Beard is too smitten with Daughter of Nine Kirtles these days.”
“Girl-Flann?” Egelric chuckled. “She’s a walking bunch of mistletoe. Where are the girls this morning? How’s Cat?”
“Go get the girls, Ete,” Maire said to her daughter. “Ach, Egelric!” She leaned her head close to his as Ete skipped away, and she whispered, “I should tell you, Cat’s feeling a little better today. We all are. She’s not pregnant after all.”
Egelric took a deep breath and sighed, so relieved that he was even willing to admit the existence of a Greater Power. “Thank God.”
After an awkward silence, Maire said, “She even ate breakfast this morning.”
Egelric closed his eyes and sighed again.
They waited quietly until the door opened behind them, and then Egelric kept his face carefully averted.
“What’s the surprise?” Cat asked. “What did you bring us?”
“He’s the surprise!” Ete cried and tugged on Egelric’s hand. “Turn around!”
Egelric obediently turned around, and he was heartened to see both girls break into giggles.
“Isn’t he fine?” Maire asked.
“Isn’t he?” Flann gasped. She reached up to touch his face, but Egelric pushed her hand away.
“No, no! Lili tells me the only proper instrument for judging the smoothness of a man’s cheek is a lady’s.”
Flann laughed appreciatively. “Doesn’t Lili also tell you you’re an old devil?”
“This morning she tells me I’m a fifteen-years-younger devil.”
“That still gives me a ten year’s advantage on you.” She laid her hands on his shoulders and pulled him closer. “Come here, oldish devil, and let me be the judge.”
Flann stroked her cheek carefully along his, as if there truly were a procedure for judging the quality of a shave. “Mmhmm, mmhmm. Not bad,” she murmured.
“Can we do this every morning?”
“I believe you have the technique mastered.” She patted him on the arm and lifted her head. “In a few weeks you might be as smooth as Wyn.”
“What are you doing rubbing your cheek all over that knave’s face?” Egelric cried.
“Just helping him judge!” she winked. “What do you think, Cat? If he had come visiting us looking like that, I don’t think he would have made it home again without a wife.”
“Is it that much of an improvement?” Egelric asked dazedly. He was beginning to wonder whether those fifteen minutes Ethelwyn wasted every morning were not in fact well-spent.
“Elves shave when they are young,” Cat said in a queer little voice. “And when they are married, they grow a beard. Iylaine told me.”
Everyone fell silent, and even little Ete was affected enough by the adults’ discomfort to stop her squirming.
“They all had beards,” Cat murmured. “All but the one.”
“Cat…” Flann said softly.
Cat turned abruptly, lifted the hem of her skirt, and ran back the way she had come. Flann followed without a word.
Egelric turned away from the door and stared for a while at the crack where the wall met the floor. “Do you suppose I did wrong?”
“No, Egelric,” Maire sighed. “You simply came as you are. That’s all you can do.”
“But I ‘are’ a man.”
“A man she can trust.”
“She doesn’t want to live with me.”
“Give her time, Egelric. That’s all you can do.”
