Malcolm and Iylaine meet their match

Malcolm looked up and nearly groaned. Iylaine must have noticed the expression on his face, for she turned her head to follow his gaze. A girl in pink was skipping down the hill towards the shady corner of the court where they sat.

“Good morning, Malcolm!” she chirped when she came to a stop, but she looked expectantly at Iylaine.

Malcolm rose at once, and as he leaned down to help Iylaine to her feet, she whispered, “Who’s that?” with a twist of annoyance to her mouth.

“Haven’t you met?” Malcolm asked the girls. “This is Synne, Sir Brede’s sister who arrived from Denmark a few days ago. And, Synne, this is my cousin Bab – I mean, Iylaine.”

Synne smiled and curtseyed, which obliged Iylaine to do the same.

“Sigefrith told me you were here,” Synne said to Malcolm. “So I rode over with Squire Egelric. I mean – that’s your father, isn’t it?” she asked Iylaine.

“Aye,” Iylaine muttered.

“He’s so nice!” Synne said. “He made me laugh the whole way here.”

Malcolm could fairly feel the heat of Iylaine’s rising temper. She was terribly jealous of her father under any circumstances, but he also knew that Egelric’s relations with his daughter were rarely of the laughing sort these days. He even wondered whether Synne were not making up this detail, or at least exaggerating.

No one spoke, and so Synne smiled down on the two of them. Malcolm tried to smile back at her, but his cousin’s barely concealed agitation was tugging the corners of his mouth down. How was he supposed to reconcile politeness to Synne with loyalty to his cousin?

“When are you leaving, Malcolm?” Synne asked abruptly. “I was wondering when we would go on the ride you promised me. Perhaps you could ride home with me.”

Malcolm had nearly reached the point of squirming. She was doing it quite deliberately, he thought. How could a girl of twelve be so cunning? Or was it that he was too much of a novice at this sort of combat to parry her thrusts? He did not enjoy the feeling.

“I believe Malcolm was about to leave,” Iylaine said coldly. And she was only ten!

He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it in time. Then he opened it again to say, “Why don’t we all go for a ride together?”

Now both Synne and Iylaine looked annoyed. That had been the wrong thing to say.

“No, thank you,” Iylaine said imperiously. “I shall go out with Sigebert this afternoon if I fancy a ride.”

Sigebert she called him!

“Oh, is that the nice boy I met the night we came?” Synne said. “He is so thoughtful – he offered to bring me a drink before I quite knew I was thirsty!” she laughed. “He’s not very talkative, though. Not like Malcolm, here.”

Iylaine had clearly met her match, and there was little she could do but fume.

Malcolm wondered whether the girls did not spend their time with their friends practicing for such duels of words, just as he and the other boys did with their swords and their fists.

“No, they are not very much alike,” Iylaine agreed. “Good day, Malcolm. Thank you for visiting me. Good day, Synne.” She inclined her head as the Duchess did when she dismissed an inferior, and she turned to go.

Before he had a chance to think better of it, Malcolm reached for her wrist to stop her, but all it gained him was the added insult of feeling it yanked away.

“Good day, Iylaine!” Synne said. “I’m so pleased to have met you.” She turned back to Malcolm and said, “What a funny little girl! Is it because she is an elf, or is she simply that way?”

“I don’t know what the other elves are like, so I can’t say,” Malcolm muttered. He would have liked to have known what she meant by “that way,” but he was wise enough, at least, not to ask.