Sariel’s face softened as she glanced down at her protruding navel. If Justinian’s plea to stay had anything to do with their unborn son, she was at least willing to listen to his point of view.
“I understand how helpful you may be to the Marinossians if we stay, but what would I be able to do around the house? I certainly won’t be tending to the horses or whipping Heron and Hawk into shape…not in my current state.”
A laugh escaped Justinian’s chest.
“You could bend those lads around your little finger regardless of the condition you were in. If anything, pregnancy has made you quite the force of nature. I certainly don’t dare defy you, and neither will they.”
She let out an impatient sigh.
“I understand what you mean, but you must understand that I can’t help with chores like I used to! Somebody is making my feet swell and my backache, not to mention what beastly things he’s doing to my bladder.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders and rinsed out the sponge, then wiped off her skin. “I could help with Althea’s herbalism class, but she has no more students to teach. She’ll have plenty of time to look after things here. Besides, a new baby will keep everyone awake all night. He will grow faster than Anthea’s baby once he’s born. He’ll be into everything before we know it.”
“Have you forgotten about Stella and Sloan? This house is plenty safe for young children,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Well, aside from the kitchen, but they’ve boarded that up now. I don’t know why the Marinossians would object to us staying. It’s not as though they’re sleeping well to begin with. I think a new baby would bring them some much-needed happiness. It will give them something to look forward to, and he’ll be here much sooner than Anthea’s baby. She’s not due until April, but our little man will be here in just a couple of months. Also, you did say that you wanted him to be born here so that Anthea and Althea can assist you, and you’re getting to the point where you shouldn’t be traveling unnecessarily. Why, you were just saying how much your back hurts! Why not stay put right where we are now, and let me wait on you hand and foot?”
Sariel wrung out the sponge one last time and set it on the table next to the basin and pitcher. She reached for a lightweight robe and slipped it on before coming over to sit on the edge of the bed. He sat up and curled his massive arms around her, pulling her close.
“Please?”
“Fine. How long do you want to stay?”
“Oh, I don’t know…” he trailed off with a hopeful smile. “Forever?”
“Justinian…”
“Sariel…”
“We have a home.”
“You have a home, but I feel like a guest in it,” he replied, this time with less of a twinkle in his light blue eyes. He’d been meaning to have this conversation with her but had been putting it off again and again. With their baby due in two short months, he was quickly running out of time. “If you think the Marinossian’s home is too grand, we could always find a cottage in the village. That way we’re still close to them, but we’d have more privacy. Although this place is so large that I doubt privacy is much of an issue at all. You could let Runa have the cave all to herself. It’s much more suited for a bachelorette like her.
“You mean to never live there again?” she argued. “I have lived there for hundreds of years. I raised my daughters there. How can you expect me to abandon it?”
“That is not what I’m saying,” was his patient reply. “I’m saying I think your home is more suited to you than it is to me.” He let go of her, leaned back, then puffed out his broad chest and flexed his huge biceps. “I’m not a little samodiva like you. I’m so big that it makes me feel trapped. I don’t think you realize how difficult it’s been for me to squeeze through a narrow passageway every time I want to go outside.” His hands dropped down to his stomach and he gave it an affectionate pat. There was plenty of muscle there, but he wasn’t nearly as trim as his younger brother. “I get scraped up enough as it is. What’ll happen if I should get fatter? I’ll tell you exactly what’ll happen—I’ll get stuck, and then you’ll have to rub me down with lard to push me out the door. And then eventually bears will smell the lard, and then I’ll have to defend you from them. But I won’t be able to fight very well because I’ll have to grease myself up while you run and hide, which means my hands will be too slippery to hold my sword well enough to defend you from all the bears. What a hassle that would be.”
“That’s not going to happen,” she said, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling. He’d clearly given this some thought. He took her back into his arms again and grinned.
“It will happen, because we’re going to grow old and fat together,” he affirmed. “You’re already on your way there. Why, I can barely hold you; you’re so fat!”
“Justinian!” she howled in mock disapproval.
“Sariel!” He laughed, and caressed her round curves affectionately. “You might have a head start on me, but I’ll catch up to you soon enough.” Still holding her close, he began to tickle her through her robe. She clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing too loud as she tried to escape. Those strong arms curled around her more securely now, guiding her to lie down beside him. After swearing off men for centuries, it was such a delicious and foreign sensation to roll around in bed with one so worthy.
“You won’t have time to get a belly the size of mine. I won’t be this big for much longer,” she reminded him. Justinian gave a fake frown, then gave a genuine grin.
“So you say, but I know how to fix that,” he said with a wink. “I’m sure this little nugget might enjoy some brothers and sisters to play with. That’s another good reason for us to think about finding all of them a bigger home.”
“All of them?” Sariel gasped in a playful tone. “How many more children do you have in mind?”
“As many as you want,” he hummed into her ear. “You know…I don’t care where we live, as long as it’s large enough to have a proper bed like this one.” He pulled her robe open and took her exposed breast into his hand, running his lips over the blue veins and the darkened flesh of her nipple. Then he rested his hand on her navel before letting it slide down towards her thighs. “Our home ought to have proper light as well, so I can appreciate all of your beauty. Would you at least give it some serious thought? The only cave I want to revisit over and over is this one right here.”
At the touch of his warm fingers, Sariel shuddered in hungry anticipation, but it was overruled by a renewed surge of grief. Tears began to form in her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away.
“What’s wrong, my love?”
She shook her head and gave him an apologetic look.
“I can’t…not now. For a few blessed moments, I completely forgot about the awful reason why we’re here. How horrible could I possibly be, to do such a thing? I shouldn’t be smiling and laughing at a time like this.” She wiped her eyes again and stared at her belly, then rested her hands protectively across it. She found herself wishing that she could shield the tiny soul inside from the evils of the world. As much as she wanted to meet her son, part of her wanted him to stay nestled safely inside where nothing could harm him. It broke her heart to think of the things that might be running through Althea’s mind, having one son trapped in the afterworld and the other one trapped in prison.
“You’re being too hard on yourself. As long as we’re being discreet—which we are—and it’s for the right reasons—which it is—then there’s no harm in smiling or laughing in the privacy of our bedchamber,” he reasoned. “That’s the thing about wee little babes…they make us smile and laugh. Their innocence can bring us comfort when we need it the most. That’s exactly why I think it would be good for the Marinossians if we stayed for a while. None of us will ever be in danger of forgetting Finn…or Talvi, if things go poorly for him in court. I’m simply saying that it’s important to have a break from the constant sorrow. Especially when this should be such a happy time for you…and for An
thea. It should’ve been a very happy time for all of us, but the fates have cheated us from experiencing much of that joy. I wish there was a way for me to give it back to you.”
Sariel nodded but didn’t reply. Justinian may have been a powerful paladin with the ability to heal most physical wounds, but wounds inflicted upon the heart were harder to mend. Seeing the depths of her sadness made him realize how weak and powerless he truly was, and he hoped that his words could bring her at least a little bit of comfort. So far, it seemed to be working. He tugged her robe back into place and hugged her closer, then kissed her on the cheek.
“I am so sorry for your loss. I know how close you were with Finn,” he added. “I remember you telling me that he’s the one who helped you create your family tree down in his library. That had to have taken some dedication, to create such a thing.”
“It did,” she sniffed. “I think he read every book ever written about blood magic before he was ready to tackle the mechanics of building the wall and having someone create the black quill.
“The black quill…” Justinian repeated with dramatic flair. “It sounds like the name of a ship or a novel.”
“I suppose it could be, although I don’t know what sort of story could be told by a magical pen that only writes names on a stone.” Justinian held back a snort of amusement.
“I imagine a pen like that would write your story. It does make me wonder, though…”
“What does it make you wonder?”
Justinian was quiet for a moment before he took a deep breath, let it out, and asked her yet another question he’d been putting off.
“When our son is born, will you add his name to that wall, since it’s your family tree?”
“Of course,” she replied. She was fully expecting a follow-up question, but he didn’t seem likely to ask one. She looked up at him, and he quickly looked up at the ceiling. Instead of seeing his typical jovial grin, or even a mildly contented version of it, there was an expression of ambivalence resting on his face. “Do you have some sort of objection?”
He immediately shook his head and glanced out the window, but Sariel wasn’t having it.
“Justinian, what is it? I may not be able to read minds, but I can read your body language perfectly well. Do you not want me to add his name to my family tree?”
It was rare for the sacred knight to lie, and this moment was no exception. His face twisted into a forced smile, and he started to speak but then quickly gave up. Then he took another deep breath, let it out, and took another one.
“I fully expected you to add his name to your family tree. It’s just that…well….it’s just the particular name that you’ve chosen. It doesn’t sit well with me.”
Sariel sat up and looked down at him in surprise.
“What do you mean? Are you saying that you don’t like the name I’ve chosen for him? Kalevi is a fine, strong name!”
Justinian pulled himself to sit up beside her. Then he forced himself to face his warrior wife-to-be. If he had the option to fight ravenous bears instead, he would’ve taken it in a heartbeat. Even if he was covered in grease and had no sword, he felt his odds of survival were better than the battle he was about to fight.
“It’s a fine name for a Viking’s son, but I’m not a Viking. I had no say in the choosing of our son’s name. It makes me feel like I’ll have no say about much of his upbringing…and little say about much of our future in general. I’m not a worrier, but I worry that you are only penciling me in when you find it convenient. I’m not demanding that you give me the moons on a silver platter…I’m asking if we could live someplace with a door wide enough for me to walk through it comfortably. I’m asking if we could wake up in a bed like this every morning and see the sky from a window. I’m asking to have a say on what we call our son.”
Sariel’s blue eyes widened in surprise and disappointment.
“But I’ve had this name in my heart for hundreds of years!” she gasped. “What better way is there to honor the son that I lost, than by giving his name to the son who’s about to be born? How can you expect me not to honor his memory this way?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Justinian calmly explained, even though his heart was racing. Diplomacy wasn’t his best trait, but failure wasn’t an option. “I’m not asking you not to honor the child that was taken from you all those years ago. I’m asking you to consider a different perspective on the matter. I’m asking you to consider my perspective. You chose that name for a son who wasn’t mine, and you decided on it with a man who wasn’t me. I know the story of how they were both taken from you, and I would never dream of asking you to forget them. I mean that. I simply want the honor of being relevant in your life today. I want my thoughts and opinions to matter to you.”
“They do matter!” she argued.
“Do they?” he asked with a skeptical expression. “Sometimes I feel like the only thing I’ve contributed to our relationship is the seed that it sprang out of.” He gave an apologetic and helpless shrug. “You can ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you that I’m not the jealous type, but this might be the exception. I admit it—I’m jealous of a fellow who died centuries before I was ever a twinkle in my father’s eye. Your first husband will always outshine whatever kindness I can show you. Whatever I give you, he’s already given. Whatever I say to you, he’s already said. Even my own son will have the name that he chose. I can’t compete with a memory, Sariel. I just can’t.”
Sariel sat in silence, barely able to wrap her mind around what he was telling her. Backing down and making compromises wasn’t her forte. Neither was admitting that she might be wrong.
“Why didn’t you say something to me sooner? You’ve had plenty of time to mention it! Why didn’t you speak up months ago, if this is how you truly felt?”
Justinian buried his face in his hands and then massaged his temples as if he were silently kicking himself for saying anything at all. But he was already in too deep. He might as well go all the way.
“Sariel…I love you, but you don’t make it particularly easy for me to voice different opinions, let alone completely disagree with you,” he said, wincing ever so slightly. “I thought perhaps you might consider a first name that I’ve always been partial to, and then his middle name would be the one you chose for the son that you wish to honor. For the son that I wish to honor, as well.”
Knowing that Sariel wouldn’t be likely to surrender, he braced himself for her reaction. But a strange thing happened between them in that precarious and precious moment. The longer she thought about Justinian’s words, and the more she thought about his feelings and his ideas, the less unreasonable they sounded to her. Maybe neither of them were wrong. Maybe this new direction their lives were headed in required a new set of rules…and maybe those rules needed to be more flexible, given that a child was now part of the equation. If there was a single law of nature that was universal among humans and wood nymphs and every other living creature, it was this: having a baby changes everything.
“I would have to agree on the name,” she warned him. He gave an enthusiastic nod of agreement. “Well then? What is this name that you’ve always been partial to?”
“Aidan,” he said in a bashful tone. “It means ‘little fiery one.’ It seems fitting, what with the way he’s been kicking you in the ribs.”
As if to drive his father’s point home, the little fiery one gave Sariel a flutter of kicks, mostly against her very full bladder.
“I think he likes it,” she winced. Justinian sat up a little straighter.
“Don’t tease me, now. Do you mean that?”
She nodded, still riding out the last few kicks.
“Aidan Kalevi, would you please stop?” she gasped in desperation. “At the very least, could you not kick me in the bladder? You’re going to make me wet the bed!” To her surprise, the baby began to shift his position. Sariel’s pale blue eyes met Justinian’s with wonder and surprise.
“I think
the decision has been made. We shall call him Aidan,” she found herself saying before she had time to overthink it. Justinian looked at her as if he’d misheard her speak.
“Do you honestly mean it?” he asked. She nodded her head reluctantly, although she gave him a soft smile along with it.
“Yes. It’s a very fair suggestion. I’m touched that you came up with such a compromise, and such a beautiful name,” she admitted. “I’ve lived so much of my life in the past that I don’t often plan very far ahead for the future. And I’ve had to fend for myself for so long that sometimes I forget to let you be a man…to have your voice heard. Leave it to a little fiery man to force me out of my comfort zone.” Just then she felt a flurry of soft jabs against her ribs. She reached for Justinian’s hand and pressed it against her upper abdomen, letting him feel Aidan kick. “I think someone found that revelation quite funny.”
The morning light shined brightly in Justinian’s eyes as his jovial grin spread across his face.
“That makes two of us,” he hummed happily. “I may not know the color of his eyes or his hair, but I’d bet my broadsword that Aidan has my sense of humor.”
6
Home Sweet Home
Prisoner TM00769 arrived at Bleakmoor Island on a particularly sunny day in early August, strapped into a dolly with a black hood draped over his head. The sound of angry waves crashing against rocks filled his ears, beckoning him to fall into a false sense of relief. He had an idea of what awaited him inside those walls, but if he could smell the salty air and hear the ocean, then at least he could pretend that he was staying at his cousins’ vineyard by the sea.
He hadn’t been there in years, yet his memories of running along the path from Corbin and Weaver’s house down to the beachfront were crystal clear. The sun was so hot on his bare feet that he could almost feel the warm sand giving way beneath his toes. He could picture the glints of sunlight sparkling on the waves, and he could see the rows of twisted vines drooping behind him, heavy with their endless bounty of grapes that were just about ready to be picked. Those were the days…when the sun never set and the wine flowed constantly and freely. When it was time for bed, he’d wait patiently for his younger cousins and Corbin and Weaver to fall asleep before sneaking out of the house and into the village with Heron and Hawk. They’d cause the type of mischief that had come to be expected from ‘those Marinossian boys’—magnificent without being malicious, and more comical than criminal. The few times that Corbin had tried to punish them, Finn always had some clever justification for earning them a reduced sentence. Talvi’s heart sank as he realized those days were history. The Marinossian boys would never ever be together again. Not in this lifetime, anyway.
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