Chapter Fifteen
Birth
Lara
They rode through the gates of
Crossroads Keep at dusk, and a feast of cold meats, cheeses, summer
greens, and fruits greeted them from Berta and the kitchen
servants. After supper, Talon and Charles escorted Fulrad, on
crutches, to the king’s pavilion, which had been set up in the
middle of the courtyard, and Lara retired to the chamber she shared
with Talon to find the tub full of hot water and her soap and clean
clothes laid out on her cot. Never had a bath felt so
good.
She soaked in it until the water
started to cool and her fingers pruned, then she donned her soft,
clean nightshift and passed out on her cot. She woke up screaming
Patience’s name at some point in the night, then woke up in Talon’s
bed the next morning, alone. She’d woken from her dreams every
night since her dream of Roncesvalles Pass, calling out the names
of those she saw die in them: Talon, Sophie, Wolf, and now
Patience. And every night, Talon would comfort her, whispering
soothing words into her ears and holding her safe in his arms until
she fell back to sleep.
As tempted as she was to roll over and
sleep the day through, she threw the covers off and stood at the
open window. The courtyard buzzed with soldiers and villagers going
about the day’s business, hustling and bustling around the king’s
pavilion of blue and gold as tents of every color along with small
campfires and lines of horses covered the fields. After splashing
water on her face, Lara dressed for the day in a clean tunic and
skirt, then went downstairs.
She looked for Fulrad out of habit,
but he wasn’t at his cot. A few stragglers ate breakfast at the
long table, but otherwise the hall was empty of soldiers. Lara
grabbed a slice of bread and a plum from the kitchens, then
continued out to the ovens, where she found Berta, who put her to
work making pies.
She’d finished paring the fruit and
was starting to mix the dough when a sharp bark caught her
attention. She braced herself as Wolf came bounding toward her,
scattering soldiers as they jumped out of his way with various
curses and exclamations.
“Hey, boy.” She laughed as
he turned circles around her, tongue lolling and tail wagging. She
ruffled his ears and thumped his sides. “How’ve you been,
eh?”
The crowd of curious soldiers parted
as Sophie walked past, and Lara threw her arms around her and gave
her a big hug.
“Let go of me, child,”
Sophie chided, “before you break my old bones.”
Lara stepped back, eyeing Sophie as
closely as Sophie eyed her.
“You look well,
Tante.”
“Well enough.”
“How’d Wolf
do?”
“He waited for you by the
door the first two days and nights, then went missing the third
day. I’m pretty sure he went looking for you up at the Hollow,
because he was gone for four days. When he came back, I dosed him
with belladonna for the next five days until he finally gave up
trying to nose you out and instead lay around moping and looking
miserable.”
“Aww, Wolf.” Lara eased
down to hug the hound and kiss his nose. “I’m sorry, boy. It was a
cruel thing to do to you.”
“Was it worth it?” Sophie
asked.
Memories of it all hit her, and she
focused on Sophie’s question. “King Charles has left my fate up to
Tal… the captain. Who hasn’t told me of his decision
yet.”
“Perhaps he’s waiting
until after the king has left.”
“Most likely.”
Sophie ruffled Lara’s cropped hair,
her natural auburn growing out at the roots. Then she glanced at
Lara’s flour-covered arms, where the darker skin dye had faded, and
at the balls of dough ready to be rolled out. Giving a sigh, Sophie
rolled up her sleeves. “Well now, there’s a supper to prepare and a
king to prepare it for. Marta.” She called out to the girl carrying
a pot of pitted plums. “Go find your grandmother, child, tell her I
have news of Patience and the babe.”
“Is everything well with
them?” The memory of last night’s dream filled Lara with
dread.
“The babe has dropped,”
Sophie said. “It’ll be coming soon, but yes, Patience and the babe
are doing well. The buck the captain left them and the cask of red
wine he sent made a marked difference.”
Lara hadn’t known about the wine, yet
it didn’t surprise her that he’d sent it, or that he’d never
mentioned it to her. She glanced at the king’s pavilion at the same
time Talon walked out of it and headed straight toward
them.
“Ladies.” He bowed from
his waist up. “I’ve come with an invitation from the king to sup
with him at table tonight.”
“We’d be honored.” Sophie
eyed him as closely as she had Lara.
“The Midereds have been
invited as well,” he told them. “I assume they’ll be on their best
behavior with the king here.”
“We shall see,” Sophie
said.
“Yes.” He gave a tick of
his jaw. “We shall.” He met Lara’s doubtful gaze and his jaw ticked
again. “Madam,” he said to Sophie. “If I could speak with you, in
private.”
“Of course, Captain.”
Sophie gave a quick glance Lara’s way before following him inside
the hall.
Lara had two pie crusts rolled out
before they came back out, neither giving anything away by their
expressions as they walked back toward her. Shouting broke out, and
soldiers jumped aside as a cart pulled up. Willem jumped down and
ran to where Talon and Sophie joined Lara.
“Patience is in labor.”
Willem panted as hard as his cart horse. “Where’s
Berta?”
“Inside the kitchens,”
Sophie said.
Lara was already untying her work
apron as Willem ran into the kitchens, running back out with Berta
on his heels a moment later.
“What can I do?” Berta
asked Sophie.
“Stay here and feed the
king. Lara and I will be with her.” Sophie turned to Talon as
Willem loaded her bag onto the cart. “Please give our thanks and
regrets to the king for his kind invitation to supper tonight,
Captain. Unfortunately, babies come in their own sweet
time.”
“I will.” Talon took Lara
by the wrist. “Take the roan. You’ll get there faster, and if you
need anything or anybody from here, you can send Willem back on
him.”
Lara nodded. “I need to get my bag
from upstairs.”
When she came back out, Talon was
waiting for her with the roan saddled and ready.
“Remember,” he said,
giving her a leg up onto the saddle. “If you need anything, just
send Willem.”
“I will.” Lara fought the
urge to reach out and smooth his furrowed brow. “Try not to worry
so much, Captain Talon Guiscard, patron saint of strays and fey
lads, this is Patience’s second babe, and Sophie says she’s been
doing well.”
He nodded and folded his hand over
hers as she took the reins. “What of your latest dream?”
Lara swallowed the terror she’d felt
when she couldn’t staunch the flow of Patience’s blood in her
dream, the horror of watching the life drain from her friend’s
face. “Giving birth is a bloody business. I’ve had the same dream
before every babe I’ve helped birth into this world,” she
lied.
Talon said nothing, but his expression
told her he wasn’t sure he believed her. He gave her hand a
squeeze, and Lara rode off, trying not to dwell on the fact that
Patience’s babe was early, or that it was birthing her fifth child
that had killed Talon’s mother. A fact he was no doubt worrying
over as well.
***
Sophie leaned back in her chair at
Willem and Patience’s kitchen table and stretched her neck and
shoulders, letting out a long, weary, happy sigh.
“What time do you think it
is?” she asked Lara.
Lara stifled a yawn. “Close to
midnight at least.”
A lusty wail filled the little house
from the bed loft above them, and Sophie and Lara sat grinning at
each other like two fat tabbies with bellies full of
milk.
“Patience is going to have
her hands full with that one,” Sophie said. “Strong-willed and
demanding he is, coming when he wanted as he did.” Another wail
pealed out, and then soft grunts and rootings followed by the proud
cooing of the new parents. “He knows what he wants and when he
wants it, this Wilric does. Much like the captain, who told me
you’ve been waking from your dreams, calling out not only his name,
but mine and Wolf’s and Patience’s every night since you dreamed of
the massacre at Roncesvalles Pass.”
Lara winced as each name hit her like
a physical blow.
“What happens in your
dreams?”
Lara shook her head.
“Sometimes sharing a fear
can lessen it greatly.” Sophie eyed her up carefully.
A rush of blood pounded through Lara’s
head, and she licked at sudden dry lips. “What if it would only
increase the fear, person by person?”
Sophie’s face paled and she looked as
tired as Lara felt. Then she quirked her brows. “What did you dream
of Patience?”
Lara looked down at her hands, washed
and clean of the leavings of childbirth. “There was blood. Too much
blood. I couldn’t staunch it. Patience—”
“Giving birth is a bloody
business.” Sophie repeated Lara’s own words that she’d used to
allay Talon’s worry. “Patience and the babe are both doing
well.”
Lara let out a relieved breath.
“True.”
“What did you dream about
me?”
The blood that had been pounding in
Lara’s head drained to her toes.
“You can tell
me.”
Lara clasped her fingers together in
her lap and met Sophie’s gaze. “I, ah, I wrapped your death shroud
over your face.”
“As you will, someday.”
Sophie was too quick and too offhanded in her reply. “As it should
be. I’m glad it will be your face to see mine last.”
“As I saw Plutarch’s.” Hot
tears welled in Lara’s eyes. “Though it wasn’t my face he saw at
the end, but Hamm’s and the lady Isabeau’s.”
“Plutarch?” Sophie’s voice
cracked. “Lady Isabeau?”
“He was the cook I
traveled with until my discovery.” Lara gave a sad smile. “He was
kind to me, to Hamm. He told me tales of his life as a man-at-arms
for Reginald and his wife, Eileen. Of their daughter Isabeau and
Harald, how they’d married in secret, how he’d grieved when he
returned to find her gone. Did you know this Harald?”
“I did,” Sophie said after
a long pause. “He was a man-at-arms under Orlando.”
“Your second
husband?”
“We were never actually
married. Not by the church.”
It seemed Lara wasn’t the only keeping
secrets. “You never told me that.”
Sophie shrugged. “We lived as man and
wife. We loved as man and wife.”