Théodred's patrol returned four days later, missing the departure of an éored under the command of an older man called Gamling by only a few hours. A hundred men out, and a hundred men in—there had only been time to wash half the mead cups. Alfrida was frazzled as she rushed from task to task, her hair falling from its meticulous bun. Léofe had been delegated to mopping the outside corridors, but gave up when she heard the Riders enter the courtyard. Why continue, anyway, when men would be stomping in and out with their muddy boots within minutes?

There were more men than usual, too. With mop in one hand and soap-filled bucket in the other, Léofe dallied as she walked back towards the kitchens. There was hardly space; if she was not mistaken it seemed that Théodred had somehow returned with double soldiers. She craned her neck to see him, but only saw the top of his head and Brego's ears.

"Léofe! Léofe!"

Recognizing Alfrida's terse tone (the lady having visited Léofe mopping only to remind her of something she had said hours earlier), Léofe pushed through the crowd, scowling at any man that looked her way. Alfrida pulled her forward once she was free, sloshing them both in dirty water.

"I need you in the kitchens," Alfrida said. "We have an extra éored to feed tonight!"

Not for the first time, Léofe cursed the blasted sculleries that had left their post after Théodred ordered the hanging of his would-be assassin. It was Alfrida and her that were left to pick up the slack, and Léofe could not claim cookery to be one of her favorite pursuits. In fact, she was hating it more and more each day.

Bloody haunches of cow were scattered across the work tables, and Léofe's frown deepened as she set away the mop and bucket. Chickens she could butcher very well, but beef was beyond her knowledge. Perhaps Alfrida would give her something else to do. Already the lady had rolled up her sleeves, and was now sharpening a massive knife.

"There are several barrels of potatoes in the caves," Alfrida told her. "Take a servant and bring up three barrels of spring potatoes. Actually," she added as an afterthought. "Take a few servants. Each barrel holds about eighty pounds of potatoes."

Léofe grumbled all the way to the caves, and would have on the way back, but with the weight of the barrel on her shoulders, she had no breath for it. She was lucky to have found a helper at all, but even that did not brighten her mood. Once the three barrels were aboveground, Alfrida, a pile of cut beef at her elbow, stopped Léofe as she pried the first barrel open.

"I have enlisted help to peel potatoes," she said. "I need you to run another errand for me, Léofe, if you would."

What she really wanted, though of course she would not have said it aloud, was to be alone, in her chamber and away from potatoes and cow carcasses and extra soldiers. She wanted to latch her door and bury her face under her pillow and scream. Léofe was bone-weary; the endless days of work and chores were wearing on her, though not so much as the stress of worry over Théodred. She was soul-weary, too, and she needed relief. But, as she told herself sternly, that would have to wait.

"What is it, Alfrida?" Léofe asked, keeping her voice carefully under control.

"Théodred requested refreshment for himself and the captains he has summoned. Fill a tray—be generous!—and take it to his study. I cannot do it myself," Alfrida added, not looking up from her task. "As I am covered in blood."

"Not such a bad notion," Léofe said, searching around the pantry for bread, cheeses and preserves. "Then Théodred might start fetching his own food and spare us the trouble."

Alfrida laughed, and if that was all the satisfaction Léofe would find in her day, she would muddle through the remainder of it gladly.

There was loud talking through the door to Théodred's study, and deciding not to interrupt Léofe pushed the door in with her shoulder. Her entrance was not noticed. She wandered over to the sideboard, setting the tray down with a bang. The talking ceased.

"Léofe!" Théodred cleared his voice, setting down a quill that he was using to point to a map, which all the captains were bent over. "What brought you here?"

Léofe turned to the group of men, smiling sweetly. "You asked for refreshment, sire," she said. "I am simply the bearer of it."

"Praise ye, lassie!" A middle-aged man with dark ginger hair strode over to the sideboard with great purpose, and was soon followed by the rest of the company, apart from Théodred, who had not removed his eyes from her. Léofe stepped away from the crowded corner, and the prince met her on her way out.

"I missed you," he whispered, darting a glance at the men, who were enjoying the food with great vigour and did not seem to notice anything further than their plates.

"When can we speak privately?" Léofe asked, growing concerned at the shadows that lined his eyes. New lines had appeared on his brow since last she'd seen him, and she swallowed back her surfacing fear.

Théodred was frowning. "I am departing again tomorrow."

Her spirits fell. She had been hoping to spend more time with her love; he was absent far too often!

"Chin up!" he said softly. "I will only be gone for four days or so."

What Léofe did not say, though she wanted to, was: "Four days! Four bloody days that I am stuck here without you and you are in danger nearly every moment!" But she did not say it. She managed a smile and took in the magnificent sight of her prince in his sun-emblazoned armor, and left without a word.

.

.

If Théodred was in residence, even if for only a night, that meant Brego was too. Léofe considered briefly returning to the kitchens and more chores from Alfrida, but decided that maybe she would not be missed since the lady was in such a tizzy. So Léofe fetched her cloak and walked down to the stables.

Brego was clearly as exhausted as everyone else in the Keep, his head was bowed as he ruffled through his trough of oats half-heartedly. She called his name as she stepped through the stall door, but he only shook his head in response. No more nuzzles and tickles then. Léofe felt as if a part of her had died right then with the absence Brego's youthful energy. She sighed, held back her tears, and fetched a currycomb to brush out his matted fur. He did not look at all the shining and proud stallion they had trained only last year! She brushed him for quite some time, pulling out burrs and bugs with practiced patience. They remained undisturbed, despite that the stables were busier than Léofe had ever seen: stablehands, squires, Riders, and horses all shuffled in and out with speed, arguments breaking out and horses trying to nip at each other. Everyone was on edge.

"I thought I might find you here."

His quiet voice sent a shiver across her body, and she straightened and wiped her eyes before turning to smile at her beloved. He looked even more worn-out than he had in his study. "Théodred," she murmured, pulling him into the stall and closing it behind him. "You look terrible!"

He smiled at that, his old self returning for a half-moment. "Dear Léofe! I do appreciate that you do not mince your words."

"Why should I?" she sniffed. "You look as though you need sleep! You and Brego both."

"Yes, I imagine so," he said. "And what of you?"

"Me? I am quite fine, thank you."

He crossed his arms, looking sternly down at her. "I know you better than to believe that outrageous lie, miss. Even so, your eyes betray you."

"Eyes can lie."

"In my experience, they very rarely do."

Léofe frowned. "Fine. I cannot sleep either, that is all."

"Why not?"

She dug her heel into the ground, feeling herself flush. "I worry for you. Do not say that I should not! I know that is what you wish to say, and that would be your lie. I know you too, Théodred, and I would wager that you worry for everyone in the Riddermark except yourself. But you deserve more than that. I am merely compensating."

He was silent for a moment, and she wondered if she had offended him. Then he threw his head back and laughed. "Dear, sweet Léofe! I missed you!"

Léofe dropped the comb, opening her arms to embrace him with all her might. He felt so good, as pathetic as they both were, and she did not want to let him go ever again.

"I am sorry that I am still filthy from travelling," he murmured into her hair. "I know this cannot be pleasant to you."

"It is very pleasant!" she said, clinging to him fiercely. "I love you, whether you smell or not!"

Théodred went very still. "Léofe…I love you as well. Please know that."

"I know." A snuffling noise approached them, and Léofe felt a tug on her hair. "Brego! We have not forgotten you!" They laughed together, breaking apart so that the stallion could sniff around Théodred, who produced an apple from his vest.

"I think it is past time for supper," he murmured. As he spoke, Léofe noticed that the only sound she could hear was Brego's munching. The stable now seemed quite empty, and her skin tingled.

"I should return," she sighed. "Though I do not wish to. Alfrida is having a very difficult day."

"Even with Erk to keep her straightened out?"

Léofe smiled. "He can only do so much."

"I suppose you are correct," Théodred said, returning her grin.

"I am always right. Do keep that in mind for my next statement: you ought to march straight to bed and get some sleep!"

He pulled a face. "So demanding! But I would rather stay here with you."

"You may not! In fact, I feel that I have been preventing Brego from resting as well, so I will be on my way—"

She was pulled back as she tried to leave, Théodred's fingers like a vice on her wrist. He drew her back to him, crushing his lips to hers and taking her breath away. When he released her, several moments later, they were both breathing heavily and Léofe felt flushed from her head to her toes. "I could not let you go without a kiss," he told her, looking sheepish. "I do not know when we may be alone again. The Deep is so crowded now!"

Léofe merely hummed in response, smoothing back his hair from his face. "That is the least of my worries," she said. "Do be safe—if not for me, for your father and your country."

His lips turned downward. "For you, dear heart. Always for you."

She leaned forward one last time to kiss his cheek, and this time he let her leave.

.

.

Léofe was in an exceptionally good mood when she wandered lazily back to her room to discard her cloak, and then in a spirit of goodwill set off for the kitchens. Alfrida would likely need her help, and why shouldn't she be of use? It would keep her mind off of her anxieties, at least a little bit. It was when she was passing the door at the very end of the corridor before the staircase, that she paused, straining to hear as the sound came again—retching. She stared: was that not Alfrida and Erkenbrand's chamber? Was one of them sick?

She knocked at the door, feeling foolish. An answering croak came, and she pushed open the door. Alfrida was sitting on the floor, slouched against the wall in front of a chamber pot. The image seemed so incongruous to what Léofe knew of the lady that her mouth nearly fell open. But she stopped herself. "Are you alright?" Léofe asked, closing the door behind her before going to Alfrida's side and crouching down.

"Yes, yes," the lady said, somewhat grouchily. She would not meet Léofe's eyes.

"Are you ill? I can fetch a healer—"

"There is no use!" Alfrida sighed. "I will need him soon enough."

"What do you—"

"I am with child!" At this, the lady promptly buried her face in her hands and began to sob. Léofe blinked, and then did what seemed right—she wrapped an arm around Alfrida's shaking shoulders and hugged her tight. She did not know what to say. That it would be alright? She did not know if it would. That a child should be celebrated? Perhaps it should not, at this place and time. And at Alfrida's age, too! Léofe's heart ached.

At last the lady pulled away, wiping her face on her sleeve. "Do not tell anyone," she said in a trembling voice. "Please."

"Does Erkenbrand know?"

Alfrida's lip trembled. "Of course! He always knows. And he worries, but I cannot demand his care or support from his duties, not now, so close to invasion—" She stopped, glancing at Léofe. "I am sorry. I should not burden you with this."

Léofe thought quickly, then said, "If Erkenbrand cannot help, I can. You are my friend! And you should not be alone, not now."

"Thank you." Alfrida fiddled with the hem of her dress. "I have been pregnant before, you know. Many times, in fact. We have never had any issue conceiving…"

Léofe felt herself turning red. It was an honor to be confided with such personal information, but she was not sure if she wanted to hear it.

The lady continued, her voice very small. "I stopped counting my miscarriages after eight. Though it has been many years since I conceived, why this had to be now, I do not know…"

Her despair was leaking into Léofe, and her own eyes were burning with sympathetic tears now. How many years of heartbreak had Alfrida endured? Léofe thought she might die if she lost a child, especially if it were a child of Théodred's, whom she loved…

"I will be alright!" Alfrida said, shifting. "This one will end soon enough, just as the others did."

Léofe took her arm, and together they stood. "Alfrida," she began, keeping a hold on her. "I think you should rest. You have been run ragged, and that cannot be good for your baby."

Alfrida shrugged, sniffling. "Why should it matter? I cannot keep it. My body will not."

"If that is what you believe, so it shall be!" Léofe said fiercely. "You will hurt it with your sadness if you continue to think such thoughts. There is a reason we give our expecting mares much rest and the best food."

"I am not a horse," the lady muttered. "And I have much to do, the soldiers are needing supper tonight."

"I will take care of that!" Léofe said, and began to steer her towards the bed. "You must rest."

Alfrida's dragging steps were testament to Léofe's convictions, and she heard no more argument. Once the lady was tucked in and assured by Léofe that she could, indeed, see to the running of the keep, Léofe left her to sleep. Léofe felt that she had done right by forcing Alfrida to take rest, but as she walked towards the kitchens, doubt began to plague her.

What had she just volunteered for?

.

.

Lice.

As soon as Léofe had heard the gossip from a laundress, she nearly screamed aloud. How many more things could possibly go wrong?

She was not cut out for this.

By this time, three days had passed, and with her charity worn away from stress, Léofe finally relented and told Alfrida of the troubles.

"How many are infected?" the lady asked, now her normal calm self, tucked into her bed and sipping a mug of broth which Léofe had brought.

"It was only one family that brought the lice," she explained. "But with everyone living so close...about two dozen others have complained. But that is only as of this morning."

Alfrida thought for a moment. "We need to stop this before it becomes worse," she said. "We need to gather all those with lice and treat them for it. I am afraid all the clothing and linens that could possibly be contaminated will have to be washed."

Léofe winced. "That is what I feared."

"We need to protect everyone else as well. Head wraps should be prepared, doused with parsley. It will repel the lice."

Léofe did not want to do any of those things. Since assuming Alfrida's responsibilities, she had been run ragged trying to organize everything with so little help. Meals had been very haphazard, and everywhere in the Deep just seemed...dirty. The lack of snow had also made it very hard to come by clean water, and Erkenbrand had implemented rations. It was all terribly overwhelming, and knowing Théodred was to return the following day only made Léofe's spirits sink further. He would see what a failure she was!

"You have been doing very well," Alfrida interrupted her thoughts, as if reading them. "Considering the circumstances."

"And my lack of skills," she mumbled.

"You have only been here a few months, you can hardly be expected to take over perfectly. And I am sure no one has noticed," the lady said, smiling. "It is time for me to return to the real world. Do not protest! I am feeling somewhat better, and all this lying around is beginning to drive me stir-crazy. What do you say we go to battle with Fate's ill will?"

Léofe felt her shoulders lighten, and she sighed. "I am so thankful that you said 'we'!"