Egelric Returns

Night had already fallen by the time Egelric rode back onto his farm. He had ridden slowly on his return, unheeding the hour. As he rode past the castle, a few peasants who knew and respected him were disappointed when he didn’t respond to their greetings, didn’t seem to hear them even.

He stabled the mare and then trudged back to the house with a bundle under his arm. The fire had burned down to embers, and Elfleda wasn’t home. This was the crowning touch to the misery of this day.

He built the fire back up and then stood a while in the kitchen, wondering. 

Had the whole thing been meant to get him out of the house so that Elfleda would be free to …do mischief? No, he wouldn’t try to fool himself any longer. She had wanted to be with another man. It should have been obvious. She despised him, and yet she longed for a baby. What’s more, it would be the ultimate insult to him, and that alone might be sufficient incentive for her to stray.

He would just go see how things were at Alwy’s. He was sorry to think such a thing of his friend, but he knew Alwy, and he knew Elfleda. Alwy was as trusting as a child, and Elfleda was deep and cunning. And poor Gunnilda!

Of course, it might not be true at all, but he would just go see where everyone was tonight, and if Elfleda wasn’t with Alwy, perhaps they might know who she was with.

Egelric had just stepped out the door when he heard Elfleda calling from behind the house.

“Is that you, dear? I see a fire in the chimney!”

He went around the house to find her beneath the trees. She was alone. Perhaps this idea of his was simply due to the fatigue and the misery of the day.

He expected her to ask about the boots, but instead she looked at him with concern and asked, “What’s happened? You look dreadful.”

“I had a terrible time, Leda. I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “But I got your boots.”

She shook her head. “Never mind the boots, what happened?”

How tempting it was to tell her everything! When was the last time she had looked at him like that? “Things are very bad in the town, Leda,” he explained in his low voice. “The people there are afraid of us. Everywhere I went the people hissed at me and spat at me. They think we’re cursed, and they think I brought the curse with me.”

An odd look flickered over Elfleda’s face, but he continued.

“After I got the boots – the only person in town who would talk to me was the cobbler, and only because he knew he could take me for far more than the boots were worth – the people even began throwing stones and whipping at the mare to drive me out of town. They were like a mob. It was horrible – horrible. I don’t want to talk about it.” He shook his head slowly.

“Oh, but I do want to hear about it,” she said, her voice low and eager. “Tell me all about it! Tell me how the people spat at you and tell me the names they called you. Tell me! Tell me!” she begged, and fell into her throaty, sinister laugh.

Egelric stood transfixed with pain and rage. “So this is what it was all about, this boot story!” he said through clenched teeth. “Alone, you weren’t able to insult me enough to satisfy you, you needed to enlist the help of an entire town to do it properly!”

Elfleda only laughed.

Egelric had never felt so close to hurting her before. By God, she deserved it. But he wouldn’t do it. He turned on his heel and stalked away from her, shaking with anger.

Elfleda called after him, “Did you leave my boots in the house?” And she went off into peals of laughter that still rang out in the night long after he had reached the road.