Aengus asks for refuge

Malcolm lolled his head drowsily and pretended to listen to Caedwulf’s chatter. He would much rather have spent the evening with Brede, but Brede was apparently holed away somewhere with Estrid.

Hilda and Estrid had, at least, gone up to the nursery “to talk”, but Malcolm suspected that if he went up now he would find Hilda alone with some excuse for Estrid’s absence. He might have done it, too, just for the fun of seeing her squirm, but he was beginning to believe that Hilda knew he knew, and so she might not squirm so much as counter-​attack. She knew he hadn’t really been too sick to go to Mass last All Saints Day…

Even more than with Brede, he would have liked to have spent the evening talking with Sigefrith, the way they had before. What adventures the man had had! Even Caedwulf would shut up to listen to his father’s stories.

But Sigefrith now spent his evenings gazing at Eadgith like a puppy and murmuring nonsense to her, while Eadgith’s mother glared at them over her sewing. It was quite embarrassing the way he carried on over young Eadgith—and quite embarrassing the way Lady Eadgith wore her jealousy like a blazon.

Malcolm grimaced. Women! Was there a trouble on earth for which they were not responsible, directly or indirectly? Even his own mother made his father dance a giddy step.

Malcolm sat up abruptly as the great door opened and a guard came into the hall. He knew him for one of the guards on duty in the gate tonight, so he concluded that someone had come to the gate… but on such a night? The snow came up to the horses’ knees.

The guard spoke a word to Sigefrith, and Sigefrith cried, “In this weather? His lady?” Then he looked over at Malcolm and called, “Does your cousin Aengus have a lady?”

“Aengus!” Malcolm said, stunned. “Aengus son of Colin? Not that I know. Aengus is here? It must be one of the Aengus sons of Donald.”

“Send in all the Aenguses you can find,” Sigefrith said to the guard. “We shall sort them out later. And their ladies too.”

Malcolm got up and went to stand by the King.

“Which one of your Aenguses is mad enough to come out in this kind of weather?” Sigefrith asked him.

“Son of Colin.”

“That’s what I think.”

Malcolm thought rapidly. Either it was something urgently important, or Aengus had been surprised by the weather—not that snow was all that surprising for December. But if it were an important message—and Malcolm briefly feared for his father—why would he have brought a lady?

When the great door opened again, the mystery only deepened. It was Aengus son of Colin, to be sure, looking as wet and cold and miserable as one would expect on such a night—but “his lady” was not “his” at all—Malcolm knew her at once for the wife of his cousin Malcolm.

“Aengus!” Sigefrith bellowed as he went to embrace his friend. “I was just telling this cousin of yours that only you are meatwit enough to come out on a night like this!”

“Aye, I can no deny it,” Aengus mumbled into his shoulder.

Malcolm did not miss how Aengus had sunk into Sigefrith’s arms like a drowning man coming to cling to a passing log. He was more than exhausted.

Sigefrith looked past Aengus to Maire, and Malcolm saw recognition and then confusion dawning on his face. Maire looked back at him with defiance on her pretty lips and fright in her slanted eyes.

“Maire?” Sigefrith asked.

Malcolm could see in his darting eyes and his trembling mouth how Sigefrith was trying to find an explanation for her presence. He could see the brief hope flicker over his face—hope that this meant something about his cousin Malcolm.

But his cousin Malcolm was dead—to Maire at least he was. That he could read on her lips. Her eyes were more of a mystery.

“Aye, it’s Maire,” Aengus said quietly, and he reached an arm behind him to pull her forward and pull her against his body.

In that, and in the heavy way she walked, Malcolm read the rest. Maire belonged to Aengus now—and so did Maire’s baby. But the seven years had not yet passed. Maire was not a widow. That was the fright in her eyes.

“Well!” Sigefrith said, collecting himself. “I’m pleased to see you both again.”

“She’s exhausted, Sigefrith,” Aengus said. “And cold.”

On Aengus it was the eyes that were both defiant and pleading, like a naughty son’s before his father, hoping for forgiveness but too proud to ask for it. His mouth was only tired.

“Of course she is!” Sigefrith said. He turned to the ladies and began, “Honey, would you—”

Malcolm saw him pause, saw him realize that it wouldn’t be quite right to send his young bride up with a woman of this sort.

“Eadgith,” he said then to his elder cousin, “would you kindly show Maire up to… let’s see, the room behind Cubby’s. The children’s fire will have warmed it a bit, and you can have a fire built in no time for her.”

Lady Eadgith smiled sweetly—Malcolm knew she was pleased to be asked to perform the duty of the mistress of the castle, having been recently eclipsed in that role by her young daughter—and invited Maire to accompany her. She didn’t know Maire, and didn’t know that it was not quite the honor she seemed to find it.

Malcolm watched them go. Maire had not looked at him once.

“Well, Aengus,” Sigefrith began, and then he turned suddenly to Caedwulf. “Time for bed, runt.”

“Ohhhh!” Caedwulf wailed. “I want to see Aengus!”

“You shall see Aengus tomorrow. Tonight he’s more tired than you are. Honey,” he said to Eadgith, “would you go up and see that the children are warm and make sure this urchin goes to bed as told?”

Malcolm frowned and waited for his dismissal as well, but it did not come. He stood a little straighter. This was something. Only he and Aengus and Sigefrith remained.

“Well, Aengus,” Sigefrith began again. “I can see you’re dead on your feet, and I shan’t keep you long. Would you simply tell me to what I owe the honor on this night the gods forgot?”

“Last time I came you told me I might find refuge here,” Aengus said.

“I see,” Sigefrith nodded thoughtfully. “You will forgive me for not being able to remember the intricacies of your family tree, but I was not aware that Maire was your sister.”

“She isn’t.”

“I see. I gather Colban chased her from his house?”

“Aye.”

“What will he say when he learns I have offered the two of you my protection?”

“I don’t believe Colban will have much to say to that,” Aengus muttered.

Malcolm did not miss how Aengus looked away into the fire as he said it. It would seem that Aengus too knew, and his father knew, and Aengus knew his father knew. It was another piece of evidence… Malcolm had collected enough of those by now to be nearly certain of his suspicions. But what did Sigefrith know?

“Oh?”

“He can no leave us bide with him, but he will forgive it you, Sigefrith.”

“I see. But suppose Malcolm returned?”

“Malcolm is dead.”

“But you don’t know that, do you?”

“How much proof do you need? for you will never have it. It’s far from home his body lies.”

Sigefrith sighed. “I don’t like having a reason to hope I never see him again.”

“That is between Malcolm and my own self. I beg you—if only until the child comes…” Aengus said, looking pleadingly up at him.

Malcolm had control of his mouth, but he could not prevent his eyebrows from slanting into a scowl. Women! To reduce a fine man like Aengus to groveling, wet and cold and exhausted, before even such a man as Sigefrith…

Sigefrith himself seemed to find it troubling. “Now then, no need for begging. I certainly shan’t cast you out—not into such a night, and not into such a world. I hope I’m a better Christian than that, and certainly a better friend. You may stay here as long as you desire.”

“I am grateful.”

“We shall have a little word with Alred and Egelric and Theobald to explain matters to them, and otherwise I believe it will go without saying that Maire is your wife.”

“And Dunstan and Bertie,” Malcolm added.

“Damn! The boys. Well, they’re getting to an age where they can be trusted, wouldn’t you say, Malcolm?”

“Aye.” Malcolm wondered whether it was significant that Sigefrith hadn’t lumped him in with the other two, even though Bertie was only a few months younger.

“But, Aengus…” Sigefrith paused and tapped his lower lip thoughtfully. “We shall discuss this in the morning. You look as though you’ve been dragged face-​down through a cold variant of hell. But you understand I can’t leave you live here. My bride is an innocent girl. But tonight… The bed in that room is a little narrow for two, but I suppose Maire would be a bit lost without you. Are you two hungry?”

“Famished rather.”

“I shall have something brought to you. Have a seat by the fire, meatwit. I shan’t send you up until my cousin returns and your wife is alone.”

“Thank you.” Aengus dropped into the chair and leaned heavily towards the fire.

Sigefrith turned to Malcolm and mouthed “Women!” while rolling his eyes in an excellent imitation of Malcolm himself.

Malcolm lost control of his mouth and grinned.