Colburga says no

Cenwulf walked softly into the bedroom, hoping not to disturb his son if he were sleeping. But he found him lying in Colburga’s arms, drowsily playing with her long auburn hair.

“So you like to do that too?” he said to the baby, who smiled up at him.

“What a round head he has! He looks like a fat melon. Let’s have him here, Colburga. I’m hungry.”

“Are you happy, Cenwulf?” his wife asked softly. “You have a son.”

“Happy?” he laughed. “Look at this boy! Oh, so you like to play with my hair too, do you? Do you? Do you?”

Colburga turned away and walked across the room in agitation as Cenwulf talked nonsense to the baby.

“Have you fed him?” he asked after a moment.

“Yes – I was about to put him to bed when you came.”

“Then I shall. Down you go, my young lord! That’s right, there’s nothing to cry about.”

She stood and waited, listening. Cenwulf seemed to be staring down into the cradle, but the baby scarcely even squirmed.

Suddenly he was before her.

“He’s tired. He’ll drop right off,” he said. “Colburga – are you crying?”

“Oh, no!” she laughed. “I’m just yawning too much.”

“Do you think he’ll sleep long?” he asked.

“You know he never does.”

“Think he’ll sleep long enough?” he asked, pulling her against him.

“Oh – I don’t know,” she stammered.

“Let’s not waste any time, then,” he said and bent his head to kiss her neck.

“Cenwulf – wait – no!” She tried to push him away.

“What is it? It’s been two months, Colburga.”

She shook her head in confusion.

“Now, then, Colburga – you know I’m not a patient man. Two months is quite enough, don’t you think? What is this about tonight? Every night: same problem, different story.”

“Please, don’t be angry at me,” she whispered.

“I’m not angry,” he said, loosening his hold. “I simply don’t understand. You were never like this before. I was the one telling you to wait.”

“You have a son,” she said. “Aren’t you happy?”

“Of course I am. What does that matter? I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I simply want to be with my wife.”

“I don’t want any more children,” she said quietly.

“You don’t – what?” he cried. “Do you know what you are saying?”

Colburga shrugged.

“I don’t understand. Don’t you love your children?”

“It doesn’t help,” she murmured. “A new child doesn’t replace the children you have lost. And it is one more child that you could lose.”

He looked into her eyes for a while and finally sighed, “Let’s go to bed, Colburga. I can’t talk about this now.”