Brides of the North

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  Upon hearing the door open, Diamantha whirled around to see Cortez entering the room. She jumped up and flew at him before he could speak.

  “Cortez,” she gasped. “Thank God you have returned.”

  Her voice sounded terrible, frightened and strained. She also looked ragged, with circles around her lovely eyes. Cortez reached out and pulled her into an embrace simply because it seemed like the thing to do. He didn’t like her tone or the look of her. Apprehension gripped him.

  “What is the matter?” he asked her, eyeing the others in the room. “Who is that man?”

  Diamantha’s lower lip began to tremble as she pointed to the small man in the dirty brown robes. “That is a physic from St. Francis,” she said, struggling not to weep. “He is a priest but he is also the physic for the town. Goodwife MacInnis sent for him. Sophie is not doing very well and he has come to help.”

  Cortez felt sick. He looked down at the sleeping baby, so pale and still. “God,” he breathed, turning back to his wife. “What is the matter with her?”

  Diamantha was wiping away tears that spilled over. “She has not been able to keep anything in her belly,” she said hoarsely. “And she continually soils herself. She has no control over her innards at all. And when it comes… well, there is blood. She seems to be bleeding inside.”

  Cortez looked at the physic, a man with great bags under his eyes and a big nose. “What have you done for her?” he demanded. “Great Bleeding Christ, she a mere baby. Illness like this will quickly consume her. What in the hell are you doing to make her well?”

  He had quickly grown irate and Diamantha grasped at him, trying to shush him. The physic, however, was unintimidated. He met Cortez’s rage with a steady heart.

  “I have seen this before, m’laird,” he said in a very heavy Scots accent. “Things like this sometimes settle themselves in a few days, but we must keep the girl full of liquid – watered wine, watered ale, boiled fruit juice. We have been forcing her tae drink watered ale mostly because it has been known tae cure the evils that cause this terrible sickness.”

  Cortez wasn’t satisfied with the answer. He dropped to his knees beside Sophie, his big hand on her head. Diamantha gently touched his shoulder.

  “Do not wake her,” she whispered. “This is the first time she has been at peace all day. Let her sleep.”

  Cortez was beside himself. He lifted his hand off of the child’s head, wanting to kiss her but not wanting to disturb her. He was very nearly distraught as he motioned the physic to follow him out of the room. The old man did, and followed Cortez a few feet away from the chamber door so they would not be overheard. When Cortez finally turned to the man, there was great sorrow in his expression.

  “Please tell me that this will pass,” he hissed. “Tell me that this will not kill her.”

  The physic could see how worried the knight was. “As I said, I have seen this before,” he said, although there wasn’t much comfort in his tone. “It could pass in a few days, or it could grow worse. Only time will tell. Make her drink as much watered wine or ale as she will take. Put a little honey in it tae sweeten it. That makes it easier fer children. Feed her porridge and soft bread when she will tolerate it. Other than that, I canna do more. Her fate is consigned tae God.”

  That was not the answer Cortez had been seeking. He looked at the physic, astonished and horrified. “That is all we can do?”

  “I canna work miracles, m’laird.”

  Cortez stared at the man a moment longer before wiping both hands over his face in a weary, distressed gesture. He didn’t know what to say. He was a man unused to feeling helpless but, at the moment, he felt incredibly useless.

  “Then I thank you for your time,” he conceded, digging into the purse on his belt and producing a few coins for the physic. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

  The physic nodded. “I will return in the morning tae see how the lass fares,” he said. For a man who had seemed rather unemotional about the entire situation, he suddenly put his hand on Cortez’s arm in a surprising show of compassion. “She is young and healthy, m’laird. She is no’ as sickly as some I have seen, some who did no’ survive. Prayer will be a good medicine tae heal her.”

  With that, he left the tavern and headed out into the dark night were fat raindrops were starting to fall from the sky. Cortez continued to stand there, hearing the noise from the common room around him but not really listening. All he could think about was Sophie and her illness. The anguish he felt was nearly beyond his ability to comprehend. Dear God, he prayed inwardly. I cannot lose another daughter, not this time.

  “Cortez?”

  A voice came from behind him and he turned to see Keir standing there with a cup in his hand. From the look on Keir’s face, Cortez knew the man had more than likely been watching the interaction between him and the physic. Cortez reached out, took the cup in Keir’s hand, and drained it. He smacked his lips as he handed the cup back.

  “Sophie is very ill,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “The physic has consigned her fate to God. He says there is no medicine he can give her, so all we can do is wait.”

  Keir’s eyes widened and his mouth popped open in horror. “God’s Bones” he gasped. “She has grown worse?”

  Cortez realized he was very close to weeping. His heart ached in ways he couldn’t manage to describe.

  “She cannot keep anything in her stomach,” he said, “and she has no control over her bowels. She is losing blood and everything else inside her belly. The physic says he has seen it before and that all we can do is wait.”

  Keir was horrified. He put his big hand on Cortez’s shoulder, squeezing in a show of support and sympathy, but the man was at a loss how to comfort his friend. “Surely there is something more the physic can do,” he muttered. “There must be something.”

  Cortez shook his head. “He has no miracle to give her,” he muttered. “The only miracle can come from God.”

  Keir’s expression was full of sorrow. “Then I will go to the church and pray for her,” he said. “I will go right now. I will not let you lose your daughter… oh, Christ, another daughter… as I lost mine. God must listen to me this time.”

  Cortez could not speak for the lump in his throat. Keir patted the man’s cheek before turning away and heading back to the table where the other knights were sitting. After a few words were passed around the table, all four knights stood up and followed Keir from the tavern. They headed across the road, through a small field, and down another wider road that led to the church of St. Francis. The big, squat-looking house of worship accepted the Sassenach knights into the dimly-lit hall, where the five of them got down on their knees near the corner of the altar and began to pray for little Lady Sophie. Candles were lit as the prayers were intoned, intending to beg God for the gift of life that He had denied the girl’s father.

  Cortez would only find out the next morning that his knights had prayed all night.

  After Keir had left the tavern and taken the other knights with him, Cortez struggled to compose himself before returning to the chamber. He didn’t want Diamantha to see how shattered he was. He wanted to be strong for her because, God knew, the woman was going to need it. First her husband, then her father, and now this. He wondered how much more she could take without collapsing completely. He wondered just how strong she really was. He would soon find out.

  Opening the chamber door smoothly, he saw that Diamantha was sitting next to the bed, leaning forward on it with her eyes closed, as Sophie slumbered quietly. Cortez shut the door softly behind him but it was enough of a noise to wake Diamantha. Her eyes popped open and she sat up, looking at him with a big, sleepy gaze. Cortez smiled gently.

  “I am sorry to wake you,” he whispered. “I was trying to be quiet.”

  She smiled faintly and yawned, rubbing at her eyes as she stood up. She went to Cortez and he swept her into an enormous embrace, squeezing her tightly. She squeezed back.

  “I spoke
with the physic,” he explained, kissing the top of her head. “He says we should try to force her to drink watered wine or ale. He says it will help her a good deal. Has she been able to drink much today?”

  Diamantha gave him one last squeeze before releasing him. “Not much,” she sighed. “Everything she ate or drink either came out of the top or the bottom of her. Eventually, she did not want to eat or drink anything.”

  Cortez nodded sadly, turning to look at the little girl briefly before he started removing his clothing. The tunic came off but he still had the heavy mail coat beneath and, not wanting to make noise, he left Diamantha in their chamber and went out into the common room to have Peter, who was over near the hearth, remove it for him.

  As the squire took the coat away to clean it before the morrow, Cortez sought out MacInnis to find out if there were any more rooms available for his knights. So far, Keir, Michael, and Drake had squeezed into the second smaller chamber in the inn, leaving James, Oliver, Merlin, and Peter to sleep in the common room along with the rest of the soldiers. As fortune would have it, MacInnis had a room attached to the stable out back, a stable where he kept his own animals as well as supplies for the tavern, but it was not a very big or very clean room. It was where the servant boys normally slept.

  Cortez went out back to take a look at it and, deeming that it was better than sleeping in the common room, commandeered it for the rest of his knights. The room had three small beds plus a brazier for warmth. It was good enough for the knights, and when Cortez went back into the tavern, he told Merlin about it, who in turn ran across the street to the livery to find Peter. The two of them settled down into the small stable room as Cortez returned to Diamantha.

  “Where did you go?” she asked as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. “You were gone so long.”

  He put his finger to his lips in a silencing gesture and took her over to the hearth, where the little animals were awake in their cage and scratching to get out. Cortez sat Diamantha down in a chair, the only one in the room, and sat himself down on the floor next to the animal cage.

  Opening the cage door, he grinned wearily as the puppy ran out, jumping on his legs, and the kittens ran out after the puppy. Soon, he had two cats and a dog crawling around on his legs as the rabbit and fox kit, being a bit more cautious, sniffed around his breeches. It brought him a distinct sense of joy to watch them play because they reminded him so much of Sophie. He felt oddly comforted by them.

  “I gave my mail over to Peter to clean it,” he told her quietly. “I was also tending to some business with MacInnis, but I am finished for now. Have you eaten at all today, sweetheart? You look so very tired.”

  Diamantha was smiling faintly, watching the baby animals crawl over his big legs. “I am tired,” she admitted. “As I said, this is the first time Sophie has slept all day. She has been so miserable that I have spent all of my time comforting her. I hate to see my child so ill. It simply breaks my heart.”

  Cortez put a big hand up and rested it on her knee comfortingly. “She is sleeping now, so that must be a good sign,” he said. “At least she is comfortable enough to sleep.”

  “She is exhausted,” Diamantha said, rubbing wearily at her temples. Then, she focused on Cortez. “Will you tell me what happened today? I assume that you did not find Robert.”

  He looked up at her. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you would have told me right away.”

  He shrugged, looking down to pet one of the kittens who was trying to climb up his tunic. “True enough,” he said. “Nay, we did not find him. But I found the place where I last saw him, so that is significant. We have started digging holes around that area to locate him.”

  Diamantha fell silent, pondering the information. “And you found nothing?”

  Cortez shook his head, petting the puppy as it tried to chew on his fingers. “We found a few items but they did not belong to him,” he said. “A dirk, four broadswords, and pieces of leather that may have belonged to shoes. We will go back tomorrow and continue our search. He must be there, somewhere.”

  Diamantha eyed him. He didn’t sound convinced. He sounded discouraged. She slithered off the chair and sat on the floor beside him, picking up the little bunny and cuddling it.

  “You said that it was raining very badly during the battle,” she said thoughtfully. “Is it possible that the rain might have washed him away? Would there have been anywhere for him to go?”

  He knew she was grasping at straws and he took her hand, gently pulling her over onto his lap. Putting the rabbit down, Diamantha put her arms around his neck, giving in to the man’s warmth and strength. Cortez wrapped her up in his muscular arms, holding her close and taking comfort in her soft body against his. It was the most satisfying feeling he’d ever known. Tenderly, he kissed her head.

  “If he is there, I will find him,” he assured her confidently. “Meanwhile, I do not want you to fret. I want you to keep your strength up. This journey has been very taxing for all of us.”

  Diamantha laid her head on his shoulder, thinking on their quest. “It seems like we left Corfe Castle a lifetime ago,” she said, reflecting. “All of it… George, the arguments between you and me, the silver collar you gave me… everything seems like it happened so long ago.”

  Cortez was glad she saw it that way. He’d wondered if she ever would. “We have been gone twenty-six days,” he said. “This is the second journey I have made to Scotland this year.”

  Diamantha lifted her head and looked at him. “You must be very weary.”

  He met her gaze. She was so close to him that he leaned forward and kissed her on the nose. “I am,” he said. “But this was a necessary quest. I am glad we came.”

  Diamantha cocked her head. “You are?”

  He grinned. “Of course I am,” he said. “What was it I told you? That this quest has brought us closer together than anything else ever could have? It’s true, you know.”

  She smiled because he was. “Are you telling me that you are glad I came?”

  “Strangely enough, I am.”

  Diamantha giggled softly and he kissed her again, more amorously this time. But the puppy barked, the kittens scratched, and the rabbit scampered off underneath the bed, so Diamantha climbed off his lap to corral the rabbit before it escaped or got hurt. Just as she got down on her knees to hunt under the bed, Sophie began to cry softly on her bed.

  Cortez got up, bending over the girl as she wept pitifully. Diamantha forgot about the rabbit and went to her child just as Cortez reached down and carefully picked her up.

  “Mama,” Sophie sobbed. “I want my poppet!”

  Diamantha dug around in the messy bed, pulling forth Rosie and giving her to Sophie. The little girl snuggled with her poppet, nestled in Cortez’s big arms. As he rocked her gently, Diamantha put a hand to her daughter’s head, feeling for a fever. She seemed cool enough.

  “How do you feel, sweetheart?” she asked.

  Sophie wasn’t comfortable in the least. “My belly hurts,” she whined. “Mama, I’m thirsty.”

  There was watered ale on the little table next to the hearth and Diamantha poured some into a cup. Cortez continued to hold the little girl as Diamantha held the cup so she could sip down the ale. Sophie slurped gingerly, smacking her lips because it was sweet. Then she saw something on the table that interested her, small little oatcakes that Goodwife MacInnis had made.

  Diamantha took one and broke it into tiny bites, feeding it to Sophie as a mother bird would feed her chick. Sophie ate about a quarter of a cake, and all seemed fine until about half hour later when she began to cry again.

  Cortez still had Sophie in his arms because she had dozed off to sleep and he didn’t want to risk waking her by putting her onto the bed. But she awoke groaning because her belly was cramping and within a few minutes, she was crying loudly in pain. Her little belly was so very tight, cramping viciously because of the food she had eaten, but when Cortez tried to put
her back onto the bed, thinking she would be more comfortable, Sophie clung to him and wouldn’t let go.

  As Diamantha stood by and watched, torn with exhaustion and worry, Cortez paced around their small room with Sophie in his arms, singing softly to her while she groaned in pain.

  “A young man came to Tilly Nodden,

  His heart so full and pure.

  Upon the step of Tilly Nodden,

  His wants would find no cure.

  Aye! Tilly, Tilly, my goddess near,

  Can ye spare me a glance from those eyes?

  My Tilly, sweet Tilly, be my lover so dear,

  I’m a-wantin’ a slap of those thighs!”

  He sang the song that had made her laugh before, hoping it would make her laugh again, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from the pain in her gut. After singing it twice, it was clear that Sophie wasn’t finding comfort in it. When Cortez glanced up at Diamantha, sitting on the bed and watching him pace, he noticed the warmth in her eyes.

  “Is that the only song you know?” she asked lightly.

  He fought off a grin, rocking Sophie gently. “I know a few more, but the language is worse,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “Not for the ears of the baby.”

  She shook her head reproachfully, though she wasn’t serious. “Do you not know any children’s songs?” she asked. “Songs that are not sung in a tavern common room and speak of women’s body parts?”

  He appeared rather embarrassed. “In truth, I do not.”

  Diamantha laughed in spite of her fears for her daughter. But the laughter faded quickly. “Do you want to give her to me?” she asked, her eyes on her child. “You must be growing tired.”

  He looked at her as if she was daft. “Nonsense, woman,” he whispered. “I am a man. Men do not get tired.”

  She cocked a doubtful eyebrow. “They don’t?”

  “Nay, we don’t,” he said, eyeing her. “But I can see that you are very tired. Try and sleep now. I will take care of Sophie while you do.”