King Sigefrith meets the peasants

“What is this, men?” Sigefrith asked jovially when he arrived. He was not going to take them seriously unless they made him, hoping they would use the opportunity to pretend it had all been nothing. Some of the men did indeed seem abashed, like naughty children having been found out by their father. But the scowls on a few of them showed that bonhomie would not be enough this time.

“Majesty, we are hungry,” one of them said to him, bowing.

“We are all suffering this winter, and you know the harvest was – ”

“The harvest!” one of the sullen men sneered. “The curse, you mean!”

“The curse! You have heard what Father Brandt says of this curse.”

“But you haven’t heard what we have to say of this curse! It is time you listened!”

“Everth, you forget yourself,” one of the others whimpered.

“Speak then!” Sigefrith commanded.

“We’ve been living above this valley for generations. We know there is a curse. It isn’t because you ride in here on your fine horses and say there is no curse that there is no curse.”

“Finished?”

“No! Now listen – we know where that curse is. It’s that Egelric Wodehead – he’s no better than us – he was born a serf too, and now he lords it over us like a king! And he rides by and gives us the evil eye, and what happens? Our corn rots, our pigs die, our babies die – and look at that fire! He bewitched that girl Wecta and sent her into that burning barn calling his name! And that elf child of his! How is it she’s the only one who didn’t get sick? And that – ”

“Enough!” Sigefrith thundered.

The men cringed – they had never seen their easy-​​going king lose his temper.

“Who is your lord?” Sigefrith asked.

“His Grace the Duke,” Everth responded, unshaken.

“Then you have every reason to know that without Egelric Wodehead overseeing the planting and the harvest you would have been starving to death by now. I don’t know who started this story about him being cursed, but let me tell you this: he is better than all of you, whatever he was born. I will not have you forget it.”

Everth only snorted.

“As for this curse, I see I must also remind you that I forced none of you to come here. I gave every one of you the choice to remain at Thorhold or to follow me here. If you feared curses you need not have come. You will not punish a good man to protect yourself from your childish fantasies. Now, need I remind you also that I am your king?”

Sigefrith stared at the man until he flushed and looked away.

“Go home, all of you,” he said more gently, turning his back to Everth. “I know you are hungry, but we shall survive this winter. I give you my word. You have known hard winters before, and did not think of a curse. There is no reason to fear curses now.”

The men began milling around, contrite, mumbling apologies, and coming to kneel in the snow at Sigefrith’s feet.

“Go home,” he repeated quietly. “I shall ensure that you all have bread tomorrow.”

As the men began dispersing, Sigefrith turned away with Father Brandt and began walking back to the castle. Everth Cullen watched them until they disappeared into the night, beyond the reach of the torchlight.