Alred has more news for Matilda

“Good afternoon, ladies, gentleman, and sir,” Alred said to Matilda, Gwynn, Cedric, and Leila as he came into the hall. The children were playing happily together on the floor, but his wife and Leila were sitting stiffly alongside. He had not, apparently, interrupted a conversation when he came in.

Matilda smiled weakly up at him and then looked back at the children.

Was he asking too much of her after all? He could not enter into a woman’s sensibilities. But surely if she simply allowed herself to like Leila, it would be the easiest thing in the world.

At least, he hoped her look of discomfort was due to Leila’s presence. He wouldn’t like to see such a flush on her cheek when there was neither a fire nor embarrassment to cause it.

“Whose chair is this? May I take it?” he asked, indicating the empty chair pulled up next to his wife’s.

“Egelric was here looking for you,” Matilda replied. “He sat a while with us.”

“Oh, I saw him at the castle,” Alred said as he sat beside her. “Sigefrith has had another interesting letter. Do you remember the last one?”

“What? Was it from Swein? The earls again?”

“It was from Theobald, not Swein, but it was the earls again. Roger of Hereford and Ralf Gael. Theobald had the news from the abbot, who had it from I know not where. There’s quite a revolt going on out there, while we muddle along with our hay-​making and our sheep-​shearing.”

“A revolt!”

“The country is fairly split in two.”

“Heavens! What shall we do?”

“Nothing, I think,” he said, chuckling at her adorable look of surprise. “They’re Normans after all.”

“Well? Is Swein helping them or not? We must do something!”

“We shall make hay while the sun shines, as Egelric likes to say. Sigefrith won’t move unless he hears from Swein.”

“But it takes an eternity to get a letter from Swein!”

“Well, perhaps we shall hear from him in Paradise. It will give us something to look forward to, besides having wings and playing a harp all day.”

“Alred! How can you joke at such a time?”

“Is there a time when one may not joke?”

“Not for you,” she sniffed. “But I shall die, not knowing what’s happening!”

“Then you will get Swein’s letter all the sooner.”

“Oh, Alred! Can’t we send to—oh, I don’t know whom! Have we no friends on the island?”

“You may send a letter to your friend Gog if you like.”

“Oh, him!”

“But I believe Theobald means to make inquiries. Don’t trouble your pretty head, dear.”

“What if William sends to Theobald for men?”

“I doubt he means to attack from the north, Matilda. If he does, we shall know about it. He would send to King Malcolm.”

“Oh, him!”

“No high opinion of the Scots have you!” Alred laughed.

“I don’t trust them. Except for Egelric, but he’s not really a Scot.”

“He’s a tame one.”

“But Alred, Sigefrith should do something. This might be our chance.”

“Our chance to do what?” he asked, pulling her onto his lap. “Put Ralf Gael on the English throne? That would be better than William by half, but I don’t believe Sigefrith wants to risk what we have for another Norman. Even a half-​tame one.”

“But what about Swein? You know perfectly well that if he sets foot in Northumbria or anywhere in the Danelaw he will find plenty of allies. Swein could crush Ralf or Roger, singly or together.”

“I believe that what worries Sigefrith is indeed that William will crush Ralf and Roger singly. Time after time, we’ve lost our chance to take back the country because we can never manage to work together against William, and he just picks us off one by one. Magnus and Godwine are raiding in Wales while Swein and Malcolm and the Aetheling are sitting on their hands… We’re making a stand at Ely while Malcolm is out hunting petty chiefs in the north of Scotland… Malcolm goes raiding down into Northumbria while Swein is watching his beard grow out over his great belly. The one thing the English have lacked since Harold fell is a leader, and I don’t know of a man that could replace him. Do you? Be honest—Magnus is not the man his father was.”

“We would be in Winchester as we speak if someone had ever cared to loan the Aetheling a pair of balls,” Matilda sniffed.

Alred laughed. “I’ve never met a man would consider that kind of sacrifice, even to his own king.”

“Well, couldn’t you have found two men who would each be willing to loan him one?” she asked.

“Matilda, you peerless creature!” he said, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. “If someone had ever cared to lend you a pair, William would never have made it to London, that’s what I believe.”

“You must often regret not having made that sacrifice yourself,” she giggled, and nipped at his earlobe.

“Jupiter! Not once!”

“I would have returned them, after a while,” she purred.

“You know, I don’t believe that at all.”

Suddenly he remembered Leila, who was still sitting stiffly in her chair, staring down at the children. He didn’t think she had understood what they were saying, but she had understood the rest, and he pitied her greatly.