Egelric makes another announcement
Duke Alred sat at his writing table, lost in thought as he waited. He had not wanted to rush Egelric, but a week had passed and now he needed to know. So many things depended on what he would say.
Alred and Sigefrith would leave in only a few days, at the head of some fifty men—nearly a third of their farmers. It was a serious risk, and would leave their valley in grave danger of famine if the harvest were not especially abundant. But it seemed that Morcar and his allies represented the last stand of the old nobility against the invading Normans. If Morcar and Edwin failed, any remaining chance at defeating William would have to come from abroad, and except for the Danes, it seemed that most of the foreign rulers had already established comfortable relations with the new King of England.
Cenwulf and Theobald would stay, with the Earl overseeing the King’s lands on behalf of the Queen, and Theobald in charge of Bernwald fields, but Alred needed his own man to stay behind and watch over Nothelm—and Matilda and his sons. And his own man was Egelric Wodehead.
“Enter!” he called when he saw Egelric’s dark head through the small window in the door.
“Your Grace,” Egelric said, forgetting to bow in his agitation, “I meant to speak to you today already.”
Egelric was… smiling? This looked promising.
“Forgive my hesitation—but I have decided to stay. I won’t go to Ireland. I can’t go to Ireland!” he announced, beaming as if it were something to be proud of.
Alred laughed. “That’s certainly good news. May I ask what changed your mind?”
“Yes, it’s Elfleda—I think the curse is lifted! That is, I saw a sign that said that a great gift would come to me this year, and now—Elfleda is going to have a baby this summer!”
Alred thought it is a fragile hook on which to hang one’s hope for the future, remembering his own baby daughter. But he congratulated Egelric all the same, delighted to see him so full of joy, and relieved that he had decided to remain in Lothere.
But it was time to get to work. “Sit down, Egelric. Now that you have decided to stay, I need to tell you just how much I needed you to. You must know that we have had guests here: among them Morcar, son of Aelfgar of Mercia, and once Earl of Northumbria. Still Earl, as far as I am concerned. Now, listen, he and his brother are raising an army on the Isle of Ely, and the King and I are taking fifty men to join him.”
Egelric stared.
“I need you to remain and serve my wife. She will be your lady, but you shall be master in my lands. Do you understand?”
“Will you come back?” Egelric asked weakly.
Alred laughed. “If soldiers knew whether they would live or die, no wars would ever be fought! Don’t worry, Egelric, you will probably manage the farms better without me riding alongside making an ass of myself with my questions.”
“What will happen to us if Morcar succeeds?”
“A clever question, Egelric. I had expected you to ask me what happens if we fail.”
“If you fail, Her Grace the Duchess will know what to do, and I shall follow her. I would like to know what happens to—to this place if you succeed.”
Alred considered. Sigefrith had asked him the same question. “I know not whether this land will belong to Northumbria or Scotland. It may be that the Scots King will send men to Ely, and in such case Morcar may have offered them territory in exchange.” He shook his head. “But you will follow Matilda and me back to Wessex. King Harold’s son will no doubt be made Earl.”
Egelric bowed his head with a sigh—and a week ago he had wanted nothing more than to leave!
