Out of the Darkness

“I know what you meant,” Elfryth said. “If anything goes to show you’re not a baby any more, that does. That and your beard.”

“I was already wearing a beard when I, uh, left,” Ealstan said. Ran away because I was afraid I’d killed Sidroc, was what he’d meant there. He grimaced. I wish I had killed him. Then he wouldn‘t have killed Leofsig, and Leofsig was worth a hundred of him. A thousand.

Thoughts like those were probably going through his mother’s mind, too. She’d been there when he and Sidroc fought. She’d been there when Sidroc smashed Leofsig with a dining-room chair, too. She’s been through a lot, Ealstan realized-not the sort of idea he was used to having about his mother.

She said, “It’s a lot thicker now, though. It was a boy’s beard then. It isn’t any more.” She hesitated, then added, “It reminds me a lot of your brother’s, there just before-” She broke off. She’d been thinking of Leofsig, too, then.

Ealstan limped over to her and leaned one of his canes against his hip so he could set a hand on her shoulder. He’d gone off to Eoforwic and Conberge had got married, but his older brother would never come to the house again. Elfryth smiled up at him, but unshed tears made her eyes brighter than they should have been.

Someone knocked at the door. “Who’s that?” Ealstan and his mother said together. She went on, “I’ll find out. I can move faster than you can these days. Stir the chicken, if you please.”

“All right,” he said to Elfryth’s back. She was hurrying toward the entry hall. Ealstan plied the big iron spoon.

“Aye?” his mother said at the door, in the polite but distant tone she used for commercial travelers and other strangers.

“Is… is this the house of Hestan the bookkeeper?”

Chicken utterly forgotten, Ealstan hobbled toward the entry hall at the best speed he could manage. He was halfway there before he realized he was still holding the stirring spoon, not his other cane. That had fallen over. He hadn’t noticed.

“Aye, it is,” his mother said doubtfully as he rounded the corner. “And you are-?”

“Vanai!” Ealstan said.

“Ealstan!”

Somehow, his mother got out of the way as they rushed to embrace each other. Ealstan couldn’t squeeze her so tight as he wanted; she had Saxburh in a harness in front of her. For a glorious forever that couldn’t have lasted more than a minute and a half in the real world, Ealstan forgot everything but his wife. Then the baby started to cry and his mother said, “Well, I don’t suppose I need an introduction now.”

“Oh!” Ealstan didn’t want to let go of Vanai; the arm whose hand still held that serving spoon stayed around her shoulder. But he made himself turn back to Elfryth. “Mother, the quiet one is Vanai, and the noisy one is Saxburh. Sweetheart, this is my mother, Elfryth.”

Before Vanai could say anything, Elfryth did: “Powers above, Ealstan, don’t leave her standing out in the street like a peddler.” She darted forward and took the duffel bag Vanai was carrying away from her. “Come in, my dear, come in. My husband and my son told you you were welcome here, and they both have a habit of meaning what they say. Do come in.”

“Thank you.” Vanai took Saxburh out of the harness and set her on the ground. The baby stood easily. She hadn’t been able to do that when the Unkerlanters hauled Ealstan into the army. “She wants to run around,” Vanai said. “She didn’t have much of a chance while we were on the caravan car or in the cab.” And, sure enough, Saxburh’s wails stopped. She looked up at Ealstan with big, dark eyes shaped like his own.

“She’s beautiful,” Elfryth said.

That made Vanai smile, but only for a moment. “This isn’t her true seeming, you know-or mine, either, for that matter.” She sounded a little-more than a little-anxious about reminding Elfryth she was a Kaunian.

But Ealstan’s mother only shrugged. “Aye, I know you don’t really look like my daughter-”

“Ha!” Ealstan broke in, and pointed at Vanai. “I told you so.” She stuck out her tongue at him. They both laughed.

Gamely, Elfryth went on, “But I’m sure you’re beautiful in your own way, too, and so is your daughter.” She crouched down. “Hello, little one!”

Saxburh stared at her, and then at Ealstan. Pointing to him, Vanai said, “That’s your dada. We’ve got your dada back.”

“Dada?” Saxburh didn’t sound as if she believed it. She turned to Vanai and spoke imperiously: “Hat!” Vanai reached into her handbag and took out a little hat Ealstan had never seen before. She set it on Saxburh’s head. Saxburh jammed it down till it almost covered her eyes. “Hat!” she squealed.

“You’re still standing in the street,” Elfryth told Vanai. “Please come in. You must be tired. I’ll get you some wine and cheese and olives, and supper will be ready pretty soon.” She noticed Ealstan was still holding the serving spoon, took it away from him, and went back into the house.

“Come on,” Ealstan said.

“All right.” Vanai looked anxiously at him. “How are you?”

“I’m getting better,” he answered. “It still hurts, and I still have some trouble getting around-I left my other cane back in the kitchen when I heard you out here-but I’m getting better. And I’m a lot better, seeing you here.”

“I like your mother.” Vanai sounded relieved. She also did sound tired. “Come on, sweetie-we’re going in there,” she told Saxburh. Holding her hand, the baby walked into the entry hall.

“She couldn’t do that when the Unkerlanters grabbed me,” Ealstan said.

“She does all kinds of things she couldn’t do then,” Vanai answered as he closed and barred the door behind them. “A few months don’t matter much to us, but they’re a big part of Saxburh’s life.”

Ealstan reached out and lightly patted her on the backside. “Who says a few months don’t matter?” he said. She smiled back over her shoulder at him.

“Come in here,” Elfryth called from the kitchen. “I’ve poured the wine- and your cane is by the doorway there, Ealstan.”

“Thanks, Mother,” he said. “I don’t know if I ought to drink any wine. I’m so happy, I feel drunk already.”

“‘I’m going to,” Vanai declared. “After I’ve come halfway across the kingdom with a baby in tow, I’ve earned some wine, by the powers above! This kitchen is wonderful,” she said to Ealstan’s mother. “It’s three times the size of the one in our flat in Eoforwic. It’s bigger than the one I had back in Oyngestun, too, and laid out better.”

“I’ll show you around the house in a little while, if you like,” Elfryth said. “First, though, I thought you’d want to relax for a bit.”

“That would be nice.” Vanai shook her head. “No, that would be more than nice. That would be wonderful!” She picked up a mug of wine. “What shall we drink to?”

“To being able to drink together!” Ealstan said. Vanai nodded. So did his mother. They all drank.

“I’ll have to dig out your old high chair and your old cradle,” Elfryth said.

“You still have them?” Ealstan said in astonishment.

“Of course we do,” his mother answered. “We knew we would have grandchildren one day, and we thought they would come in handy. They’re down in the cellar-I remember seeing them when we spent so much time there during the siege.” Seeing the mugs had emptied in a hurry, she poured them full again.

They drank more slowly the second time through. Ealstan could feel the wine. By the way her expression grew slack, it hit Vanai hard. When the next knock on the door came, they all jumped. “That’ll be Father,” Ealstan said. He was closest to the door. He didn’t move as fast as he had when he heard Vanai’s voice, but he got there soon enough. He threw open the door and announced, “They’re here!”

“Who’s here?” Hestan asked, but then he went on, “No-don’t tell me. By the idiot grin on your face, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” He pushed past Ealstan and went into the kitchen, where he spoke in classical Kaunian: “Vanai? I am your father-in-law, and I am very glad to meet you at last.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said in the same language. “I’m very glad to meet you, too. This is your granddaughter.”

“I suspected as much,” Hestan said gravely. “Who else in this house would be sitting there banging the lid of