Sigefrith explains to Maud

Sigefrith sighed as he climbed the stairs to the great hall. He had just seen Colban and Malcolm off with much regret – he seldom had so much fun as when they were here. Still, he would be happy to see Alred again – for some reason his friend had seemed to drop by less frequently while the Scots were around.

Egelric had gone with them, intending to ride as far as Leol, quit them there, and come back through Thorhold. Thus Sigefrith could yet look forward to a last message of farewell from Gog and Magog, as well as the news from Theobald, if not Theobald himself. But until Egelric returned, the castle would certainly seem empty, and the days bland.

He thought he could cheer himself up with a cup or two, but first he did want to see Maud, and he did not intend to go to her with wine on his breath. Anyway, his head was still reeling from the quantities of cider he had drunk last night in the kitchen with Colban. 

Ah, that had perhaps been a mistake. He remembered that he had sworn an oath to send young Colban to his godfather to be raised, and though he regretted it now, he was too ashamed to admit that he had not been able to keep his head about him.

On the other hand, fond as he was of the boy, it pleased him to be able to exchange sons in this way. This was perhaps the first time that he really felt that he was not an exile, but truly master of his little kingdom, so much so that another lord wished to send his son to be raised in his court, and would ask his own son in exchange. And now that Theobald was Baron in the hills, together they held a fair piece of land – not worthy, perhaps, of being called a kingdom except insofar as Sigefrith recognized no other king – but it was fair to see.

“Maud – you’re crying!” Sigefrith blurted when he opened the door to the nursery.

She turned abruptly away from him, and so he could see Colban’s slanted eyes peeking out at him over her shoulder.

“Hallo, little man!” he called. 

The baby snorted with excited laughter.

“Hallo, little piggy!” he corrected. “Let me see him, Maud.”

She handed him the baby without a word and turned away again, sniffling.

Colban wanted to play, but Papa was distracted by Mama’s crying. Would no one play with him today? He kicked his feet in frustration.

“What is it, dear?” Sigefrith asked softly. “I never thought you would be sorry to see Gog go,” he said with a smile. “If he bored you last year, he must have been twice as tedious this year – he scarcely spoke at dinner.”

“Oh, him!” she said, stomping her little foot. “I hate him!”

“Maud!” he cried. “That’s no way to speak of this little piggy’s godfather,” he said, pinching the baby’s toes. Colban squealed in delight.

“I hate him,” she repeated in a growl.

“What did Gog ever do to you?” he asked, surprised. He wondered suddenly whether Colban had mentioned his promise to send the baby to Scotland in a few years. “Did he, ah… did he tell you something you didn’t like to hear?” he asked nervously. He hadn’t been planning on telling Maud right away.

She turned to him, sneering. “Why do you ask, Sigefrith? Did he tell you something that I wouldn’t like to hear?”

It seemed she did know. “Well… ah… you know, he did send his son to me…”

She blinked at him, uncomprehending. And then she seemed to understand. “And? You never asked him to. I shall not send my son to him, to be raised by those savages!”

“Maud, you know it’s always this way in noble families,” he sighed. “You know the younger sons go out to be raised elsewhere – that’s how I know Cenwulf, after all. It makes for strong alliances, and God knows we could use those now, even if only alliances with ‘savages,’ as you call them. They are good, Christian men, Maud, and I don’t fear what this little man will become with them.”

“I shall not allow it.”

“Oh, Maud,” he sighed. “It will be a long five years if we begin them like this. I know you love this little lad, but we have and will have other children, and we have young Malcolm to raise as well. This will be a good thing for him. I am certain Cenwulf’s mother cried when he came to us, but if you ask him, he will tell you it was the best thing for him.”

“Oh, Cenwulf!” she sighed. “Why can’t he go away instead?”

“So you are sorry Gog and Magog left,” he said, lifting the laughing baby up before his face.

“Sorry! Sorry! I hate them!” she said, flopping down in a chair and hanging her head.

Sigefrith sighed, but he decided it was best to ignore her. She was expecting another baby, and you could never tell what women in that condition would do or think. And meanwhile this baby’s belly was just begging to be kissed.