Egelric watches

Egelric spent many hours at Alred’s side over the following week, sitting or pacing. Alred never woke, but his face glowed red with fever like an ember on the pillow. 

No one could explain where he found the fuel to feed that fire. The wise woman shook her head and burned sage and told Egelric that Alred was wrestling with the De’il himself, and it was that kept him so hot. Egelric asked her what business the Devil had with Alred, and she only shook her head and shrugged.

But Egelric could spare less time to Alred than he would have liked, for Baby was ill as well. They didn’t know what was wrong with her – she had no fever, didn’t cough or complain of pains, but she wouldn’t eat, and she only wanted to lie in bed or, better, in his or Gunnilda’s lap, watching the fire.

Egelric cursed himself a thousand times for letting her sit up all through that first night. 

Wise Gunnilda thought the sensitive child was simply affected by the slow anguish surrounding her as they all waited for Alred to die. But her heart ached to see Egelric going from bedside to bedside, wearing that grey and weary expression she hadn’t seen on him since the weeks following Elfleda’s death.

“I can’t lose either of them,” he confessed to her one night as he came to relieve her from watching over Iylaine. “God help me if I lose both.”