Synne is forbidden

December 17, 1078

'Brede!'

“Brede!” Synne chirped as soon as her brother came into the hall.

“Synne!” he replied and strode forward as if he meant to walk past her.

“Brede, wait!”

“What?” He stopped and looked down at her.

'What?'

“Brede, may I go up to the castle?” she asked sweetly.

“Don’t ask me, ask Estrid,” he said and took another step forward.

“But, Brede, Estrid is having one of her sick headaches.”

“She is?” he asked, his voice suddenly tender. He looked up at the door to the bedroom, and Synne saw she would have to speak fast before he forgot all about her.

“Yes, but Brede, I should like to go see Eadie.”

“What about?”

“Well, I should like to… ask about a pattern.”

'Well, I should like to... ask about a pattern.'

“A pattern?” he asked with a suspicious scowl. Synne cursed herself for having been slow to respond.

“For my embroidery, silly. And to see Selwyn.”

“Oh. Oh! I see. You want to see Malcolm.”

'Oh!  I see.'

“No! I mean – he’s ill anyway.”

“Oh, that’s right! And I suppose you want to nurse him?”

“No! Simply to inquire about his health.”

“He’s the same as yesterday, Synn. You have no reason to worry yourself about him. Or do you?” he asked sarcastically.

“No! I should only like to be polite.”

'No!  I should only like to be polite.'

“He doesn’t need girls visiting him in his bedchamber, I’m certain!”

“Iylaine is there every day!” she protested with more force than she had intended, for this truly galled her.

“Fine example, Synn! Look at what her father is! It’s no surprise he lets her. The next time you mention her as a reason why you ought to be allowed to do something, I shall know it’s something I should forbid!”

“But, Brede!”

“Enough, Synne! If Estrid is feeling too ill to take you, then you mayn’t go, and that is the end of the matter. I won’t have you trotting all over the countryside alone, meeting a boy at the end of your journey and who knows how many along the way!”

'I won't have you trotting all over the countryside alone.'

“Brede! I’m not Sigi!”

“No! You’re Sigi, but more clever, and more devious, in my opinion. Embroidery patterns indeed! You are your father’s daughter, that much I know!”

“But, Brede, it isn’t fair! Simply because Sigi got herself in trouble, it means that I shall never be allowed to set foot outdoors alone again?”

'But, Brede, it isn't fair!'

“If I had forbidden Sigi to go outdoors alone, she would still be here now! And I don’t doubt she now wishes I had!”

“Brede?” called a soft and weary voice from behind the bedroom door.

“There! Do you see?” he hissed. “Now you’ve bothered Estrid with your shrieking. Just you sit yourself down and make up your own stupid embroidery patterns, for you aren’t going out today. Or, if you simply must get outside, you may accompany Uncle later when he goes to visit the elderly peasants, hmm?”

'You may accompany Uncle later when he goes to visit the elderly peasants.'

Synne fell back against the bench and squeezed her lips between her teeth to keep from crying.

“I’m here, Puss,” Brede called to Estrid and disappeared into their bedchamber.

It wasn’t fair! Sigrid had had her fun – she had been too foolish to avoid the consequences, but she had had it. And Brede and Estrid had not only had their fun, they had been allowed to turn it into a sacrament. Even Selwyn, though too young to appreciate it, had the glorious liberty of a great castle and a tolerant, winking guardian in the King.

Only Synne found herself imprisoned – she, who had done nothing wrong! Because Sigi had been foolish, and because some boys were bad!

Synne found herself imprisoned.