Haakon asks for help

Leofric could barely repress a laugh. Haakon was bouncing on his bed while tunelessly singing a battle song, albeit in perfect time to his jumps. It appeared that he had inherited his father’s singing voice, which thought brought tears to Leofric’s eyes that more effectively stilled his urge to laugh than did his desire to prolong his and Haakon’s fun.

Sigefrith had only been six years old when Leofric had been taken prisoner, and they had not met again until his son was fifteen. Although Haakon looked more like his Norse namesake than he did his father, he had so many of Sigefrith’s childish manners. He resembled Sigefrith in spirit far more than did Leofric’s other sons.

At times such as these—at the sight of a tunelessly singing five-​year-​old bouncing on his bed—Leofric could almost believe it was Sigefrith and could almost believe himself fifteen years younger, but this time, he swore, the little boy would not grow into a man without him. Sigefrith could have been a different man, he thought…

“Papa!” Haakon cried in alarm as he bounced out from behind the bed curtain. And then, “Grandfather!” in relief and joy.

Now Leofric laughed. “Scared you, there!”

Haakon bounced out of his bed and across the room to throw his arms around Leofric’s neck. “I know you won’t be mad.”

“I have to be Papa to my own boys! I can’t afford to be wearing myself out beating you, too. Now listen here, runt. Your Auntie Eadie tells me you’ve been asking and asking for me this week.”

“I wanted to know when you were coming.”

“I suppose you’ve gone and committed yourself to a duel again, and need a second,” Leofric sighed.

Haakon did not laugh. “No, Grandfather,” he said with all the great solemnity of a five-​year-​old, “it’s because I have to ask you something.”

“Ohhh…”

“It’s a secret. So I must take you to my secret place.”

“Ohhhh!” Leofric chuckled and followed him down into a small storeroom beneath the tower, built into the thickness of the wall.

“Shhh! There’s spiders in here,” Haakon warned, “but they always stay in their webs, so don’t be afraid. I like to leave them, because then Dora doesn’t come. You may sit on this barrel like my Papa does.”

“He knows your secret place?”

“He told me where to find it,” Haakon said as he pulled up a pile of pillows and sat. “He says he will build a more secreter place when he builds his new tower, like King Sigefrith had in his old castle. Then nobody will know but him and me! But we shall tell you, if you like,” Haakon assured him.

“Your father told you about the secret place at King’s Sigefrith’s old castle?” Leofric asked wistfully.

He, of course, remembered well the secret room beneath the chapel at Hwaelnaess, which one would have thought had been constructed specifically for the amusement of small boys. And of course he had shown Sigefrith, but he had never dreamed that the little boy he had been then would have remembered it. He often wondered how much his son remembered of those days. He was coming to learn it was far more than he had expected.

But Haakon was not interested in nostalgia. “Yes. Now listen here, Grandfather,” he said gravely. “I want to ask you something.”

“What’s that, runt?”

“You are my Papa’s papa, aren’t you?”

“That’s right.”

“So: my Papa said that if my Mama ever hurts me or calls me names, I must tell him right away. And he will do something.”

Leofric had never hated a woman more than he did in that first instant when he believed Hilda had done something to hurt Sigefrith’s son.

“So, I want to know,” Haakon continued. “How come you don’t do something if my Mama hurts my Papa and calls him stupid and calls him names, if you are his Papa too?”

Leofric took a deep breath to give himself a moment to think. Haakon had the voice of an indignant little boy and the face of a frightened one.

“Do you ever hear her do that?” he asked.

“She does it all the time, even when I’m there. Even though I told her to stop. She keeps doing it. So now you must do something, Grandfather.”

“Well, runt, that’s a little tricky.”

“How come?”

“First of all, if it were your father’s Mama—that is to say, your grandmother—then I would do something, because she is my wife.”

“But Grandmother is sweet and good. And I miss her,” he added with a sigh.

“And she misses you, so one of these days we’re taking you home with me for a visit, whatever your mother has to say about it, and you shall meet your Auntie Mae besides. But as for your mother, you must remember that she is not my wife, but my daughter. And if someone must ‘do something,’ it should be her husband.”

“That’s my Papa.”

“That’s right. And also, Haakon, you are still a little boy, and your Papa must take care of you. But your Papa is a man now, and he must take care of himself.”

“So why doesn’t he?”

“I don’t know, runt.”

He could see the disappointment on the boy’s face. He had his father’s trick of pursing his lips when he was trying not to cry. Leofric wondered whether his son had ever had this conversation with someone—but with whom? Sigefrith’s two grandfathers had died before his birth.

Leofric wondered now whether he had hurt or insulted his wife before his children. He could not remember. He had been nearly constantly drunk at home after his baby son had died. And he did not know how much Sigefrith remembered of those days.

Now the sight of this brave and frightened five-​year-​old took him back fifteen years. He could almost believe that it was Sigefrith, as he had never seen him, and that he himself had hurt him in this way. This child was like a judgement on him. But this time he swore that it would be different.

“But I shall try to ‘do something’ anyway,” Leofric said.

“You will?” Haakon asked, brightening.

“Of course I shall, since you asked. Come here a while, runt,” he murmured. He held out his arms, and Haakon bounced into them, smiling in joy and relief.