Egelric gains a bit of knowledge
Belsar came out of the shed with his tail waving but his head low, and he wore a sheepish grin.
“What were you doing lazing about in there, you worthless hunk of meat?” Egelric asked him absently as he began unsaddling his horse.
Belsar sat on his haunches and watched him, but a moment later he was up again and prancing more excitedly this time. He was greeting the elf who had followed him out of the shed.
Egelric stared at him for a moment, speechless. He had only ever seen him at night. In the steeply slanting yellow light of a winter afternoon he seemed much older, and there was a dark shadow on his chin. Still, his eyes were soft and childish with sleep, and he bore the imprint of wrinkled cloth on one cheek.
“Well, if it isn’t Ears! Now I see what this worthless hunk of meat was doing in there. Do you lie down with dogs now?”
“I like your dog,” he smiled. He stretched his long arms and then tried to smooth out his tangled hair.
Egelric’s attention returned to his horse. “You know, he’s trained to latch on and not let go. The only way to get his jaws open again is to kill him.”
“Or ask him nicely. But you wouldn’t bite me, would you, Belsar?” He kneeled before the fawning dog and hugged his broad head.
“You should be careful. You never know who will see you like that. You don’t want your friends thinking you like dogs better than wolves.”
“You’re the one who named your boy Wulf.”
“When you name yours Dog then I shall know I have won.”
“Do you know how we say dog in my language?” he laughed.
“No.”
“Kílós. It means ‘hand-wolf.’ Because it is a sort of wolf that licks men’s hands, I suppose.”
“Well, then. When you name your boy Kílós, I shall know I have won.”
“How is she?” he asked abruptly.
Egelric grunted and slipped the bridle from his horse’s head.
“You were with her?” the elf asked.
“And you were here all this time, at my house?”
“I didn’t bother Sela. Were you?”
“I was,” Egelric admitted. “What do you know about it?”
“Her mother is dead.”
Egelric hung up the bridle and turned back to him. The elf’s eyes were a mute appeal.
“We thought she must have had a nightmare,” he muttered after a while. “Quite a nightmare.”
“I suppose her mother’s last thoughts were for her.”
“And what did that do to her?”
“It is… very difficult… when one’s mother dies a violent death. Mine did some years ago, when I was Iylaine’s age. But I understood what was happening. I fear Iylaine does not.”
“What happened to her? Iylaine’s mother, I mean.”
“It was the new moon. Didn’t you notice?”
“I had thought of it when I saw my young cousin at my door in the middle of the night.”
Egelric’s horse had slyly begun to wander off, so he took a moment to lead him into the stall and feed him. The elf watched him in silence, and Belsar sat very still at his side, holding his head up carefully so that the elf’s hand would rest upon it.
“Would you like to come in?” Egelric asked. “I suppose it’s too early yet for supper, but you may stay if you don’t mind sitting down with a dog, two cute little half-dogs, and an old wolf such as I.”
“Not tonight. I only wanted to ask about Iylaine. Is she well?”
“She’s better now. She believes it was only a nightmare. At least, that is all she is saying.”
“Now you know what happened. In case…”
“I can hardly tell her, though, can I? How could I explain?”
“I don’t know. But you will understand, if she doesn’t. Perhaps it may help you understand her.”
“I shall need more than that bit of knowledge to understand her,” he sighed. “Certain you won’t come in for a drink? I have cider…” He winked.
“Oh, no, not that,” the elf winced and clutched at his stomach.
“That was nothing!” Egelric laughed. “Have you ever had wine?”
“No…”
“You’re dying to try it. I can tell.”
“Oh, no!”
“Oh, but I insist! I shall procure myself a bit, and next time you drop by, you shall have a taste. I insist! Wine is the most direct path to any state of drunkenness you wish to attain.”
“I don’t wish to attain any such state ever again.”
“Nonsense! That is why I have an extra bed. I must simply endeavor to invite you in on the nights when Alred does not attend. Otherwise one of you will be sleeping in the shed with my dog, whom you love, and I don’t suppose it will be my lord!”
