A pair of loobies goes flying out to sea
Sir Brede cringed. He recognized that tread, which could not help but be lumbering even when the beast tried to sneak.
It never failed: as soon as he tried to sit and get some work done, his idly restless brother-in-law would come and harass him. The only question now was to which adolescent antic he was about to be subjected.
“What will it be, Eirik?” he muttered before the beast had quite reached him. “Kiss my cheeks? Box my ears? Drop the cat on my head?”
“Brother Brede!” Eirik gasped. “What kind of barbarian do you think me? I only want to come go for a ride with you.”
Brede opened his mouth to protest that he was too busy, but Eirik leapt at him, bent himself over Brede’s head as if it was his horse’s neck, and pretended to gallop madly over imaginary hills and dales.
“Eirik!” Brede shouted.
“How now, chestnut cow?” Eirik gasped. “He don’t want to go for a ride?”
“No! Eirik…”
“Oh, but he do want me to braid his chestnut mane!” Eirik cried as he started tugging at Brede’s hair. “Oooooh! Won’t he be pretty?”
“Eirik…” Brede sighed, too helplessly weary to protest.
“Wait till Estrid she see your head when I am done!”
“Eirik!” Brede snapped and swatted Eirik’s hands away. He had found some strength to protest once he had begun to wonder what catastrophes Eirik might not be capable of wreaking upon his already unruly hair.
“Breeeee-de!” Eirik taunted.
“For the love of Christ!” Brede barked and stumbled out of his chair. “What do you want? I’m busy!”
Eirik was suddenly sober. “I want to tell you what I just see.”
“What?” Brede groaned.
“I just see swallows over the field out front.”
“Swallows! What in God’s name do I care about swallows?”
“Did you already seen swallows this year?”
“What? I don’t know! No! What do you want, Eirik? I’m busy.”
“If I see swallows, it means spring is here.”
“Lovely! Now you may begin gathering flowers for your hair!”
“Be serious, Brede,” Eirik clucked. “Tell me what else is supposed to come in the spring, beside swallows and flowers.”
“Hmmm… Rain? Just the thing to delight a worm such as you!”
“Brede,” Eirik said mournfully. “I mean that Murchad.”
“Oh.”
“He say he come by spring, and those swallows they say spring is here, and where is that Murchad?”
“Well… he didn’t say he would come before spring,” Brede muttered.
“Brede…”
“I know…”
“So I say to those swallows, if it is time for you to come, it is time for me to go! And I take my brother Brede this time, because I can see up high, and he can see down low, and so we don’t miss anything.”
“Eirik,” Brede sighed, about to launch into a protest – and then he hesitated.
“I tell you what we do,” Eirik said. “We take a ship and we go up the coast, first, and have some fun scaring some Scots as we go. And then we go see that Murchad’s father and we ask him do he see Murchad. And also we tell Malcolm and Iylaine to send a letter to her poor father, if they are there. And then, if Murchad he is not there, we go find him, since he can’t find himself. So!”
“But, Eirik…”
“Don’t you want to go on a ship a while?” he wheedled. “And go do some adventures, and not only sit here all the time and cry, ‘I’m busy! I’m busy! You stupid worm!’”
And why not? Isn’t that all his life was these days? Busy, busy with the affairs of the manor, and nothing that one could consider the adventures of a knight. It seemed to suit young Sigefrith very well, but Brede was thoroughly sick of it all, and only refused to admit it out of pride.
The truth was that he envied his brother-in-law. Eirik had a few houses on several coasts, but he made his living with his glorious ships, and he and his countrymen had struck such fear into the hearts of the Scots and Irish that none had dared set forth in a vessel with more than three bolts in several years.
“Well…” Brede said with a rapidly dwindling hesitation.
“And one time you did go to Nidaros to bring a husband back for your one sister. So, now you go to Ireland to bring a husband back for your other.”
“That would be something!” Brede smiled.
“And won’t it be funny when we come home and Synne she see the head of that Murchad when we are done with it!”
“What shall we do with it?” Brede grinned.
“I think we shave it, and if he grow a long beard for Synne, we braid it into pigtails!”
“Oooooh!” Brede laughed. “Won’t he be pretty!”
