Albert stepped aside and let him through the door. Then he yelled at the rest of the servants in frustration. “Why are you all standing here?! Get back to work. There’re customers to take care of.” They scurried back upstairs as he shooed them off.
“Oh, Frath, I’m so glad you’re here,” Purla said, coming over to him. She’d been crying and her face sagged wearily. “She’s been asking for you.” He nodded and quickly went to Sheela’s side. The reactions of Purla and Albert were worrying him.
Sheela’s eyes were open, but glazed. There was a healer putting a cloth on her forehead and whispering words of magical healing. The woman had blonde hair and wore a long blue robe. Grey eyes focused intently on her patient.
A blanket covered Sheela’s legs and they were in position for delivery. Concern was on the midwife’s face as well, which bothered Frath that much more. It was a little too soon for the birth, but not dangerously so from what he understood of a first pregnancy.
Frath took Sheela’s hand. At the touch, her eyes cleared a bit and she looked at him. “Frath . . .”
“I’m here now. It’s going to be alright,” he reassured her in spite of the wrenching feeling in his gut that told him everything was not going to be alright.
“It hurts. It hurts so much.” Sheela’s voice was laced with pain and her eyes were glazing over again.
He looked at the healer in desperation. “Can’t you do anything to ease it?”
The woman stopped the chanting, her eyes grim as she spoke. “I’m easing the pain with everything I have.” Then she turned her attention back to Sheela and resumed the quiet chanting. Frath knew with certainty that he was not to interrupt her again at the cost of Sheela’s comfort.
“Almost here,” the midwife declared. Frath saw the woman was sweating profusely even though it was cooler in the basement. Blood spotted her tan apron, and Frath realized the baby was being delivered at that moment. Then he saw the blood soaking the front of Sheela’s dress. Panic rose as his heart began to pound.
“Frath . . .” Sheela said in a quiet voice, raising her free hand to touch his cheek gently. He looked into her beautiful eyes, which were clear again. The pain was gone from her face and she was smiling. “Thank you so much for making me happy. I love you, Frath.”
Then the light disappeared from her eyes and her hand fell.
Silence enveloped Frath for an instant that seemed like an eternity. Then a baby’s wail pierced the silence and everything happened at once.
“It’s a girl,” the midwife said loudly while wrapping the infant in a blanket handed to her by an assistant.
The healer stopped chanting and carefully closed Sheela’s eyes. “She is gone from this life, may she know joy in her journey from this point on.”
Behind Frath, Purla burst into tears and wailed, “No!” in a ragged voice.
Sergeant Gorman put a strong hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Frath.” His gravelly voice was filled with compassion.
And Frath did nothing but sit there, staring at the face of the woman he loved. None of it was real. Nothing else meant anything. He had spent his life alone regardless of how many people surrounded him at any given time. Sheela was the only one he had ever let in and shown the things he knew. She was the only person who had ever made him happy.
The thought that she could truly be gone was creeping up on him and he wanted to run away from it. He reached out and touched her face, noticing the peaceful expression upon it as though she were just asleep. Her skin felt warm, not cold like every other dead body he had touched. She couldn’t be gone.
“Frath . . .” Sergeant Gorman said.
The word brought reality rushing in and the thought that had been creeping up on him suddenly dashed forward, hitting Frath with the immensity of his loss. It was as though a thousand swords pierced his skin at once and he screamed at the pain. A long keen ripped from his throat to shred the air in the room and beyond.
All who heard it stopped moving completely as the hair on their necks stood on edge. The scream was one of terrible loss and despair. Even shadows cringed at the sound and paused for a moment of sorrow.
When the last of it died down, Frath became silent again. He stared at the beautiful face of the only woman he would ever truly love, a fact he accepted deep in his heart. Everyone else in the room and outside in the basement remained completely still and silent, stunned by the power of the voice that had keened so despairingly. Even the babe lay quiet.
Frath kissed Sheela’s forehead tenderly, then stood slowly and deliberately. “I love you too,” he told her, knowing somehow she would hear him. Then he reached down and carefully took the ring off her finger and hung it on a plain chain he always wore around his neck. When he was done, he turned to the midwife who was holding his child. Frath solemnly told the babe, “I’ll give this ring to you when you’re older. Your mother would want you to have it.”
“Do you have a name for her?” the midwife asked as she handed over the bundle.
“Her name is Pelya,” Frath answered in clear tones for all to hear. Pelya’s eyes were open and she looked into his with gravity and wisdom greater than those of a sage. Frath gazed back, silently letting her know that he would protect her with his entire being. It was a moment he would remember for the rest of his life.
“That’s an unusual name,” the midwife stated. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard it before.”
“It’s a name Sheela and I found on three different occasions. We like it and decided to use it,” Frath explained, putting a pinkie into his daughter’s tiny hand and feeling the unexpectedly strong grip.
“What if it had been a boy?” Gorman asked in curiosity, looking over Frath’s shoulder and waving at Pelya.
“Sheela knew it was going to be a girl. I don’t know how, but I knew she was right. We never considered a boy’s name.”
“Huh . . . interesting,” the sergeant replied.
“No!” a woman cried out from the doorway. They all turned to see Tonya, the woman who had shown Sheela to her room that first night, in the doorway. She sobbed at the sight of her dear friend lying on the bed, and then ran away weeping.
It brought back the reality of what had happened. Frath fell to his knees as though a mortal blow had been struck. He couldn’t breathe. He felt as though he would never breathe again. He managed to keep the baby safely in his arms until the midwife quickly took Pelya.
Gorman helped Frath to his feet and guided him out of the room. Purla watched them pass by through tears that had never stopped. Sheela was like a daughter to her and Albert and the loss was nearly as devastating to them.
Frath didn’t remember walking up the stairs or outside into the garden, but suddenly he realized he was sitting on a bench next to a birdbath under the shade of thick trees. The birds were singing merrily, not understanding that the moment called for silence and mourning.
“There you are,” Gorman said, patting him on the back. “I thought you had gone to some other realm behind your eyes for a while.”
Frath inhaled the sweet, sticky air. Flowers in the garden let forth a beautiful aroma, but it was cloying instead of pleasant. The drone of insects buzzing was loud, distracting him from his thoughts. Frath wanted very much to go somewhere quiet so he could think. He wanted to dwell on everything for a long time. What he didn’t want to do was be in that particular moment. Frath very much hated that particular moment. It was the worst one in his life.
“Frath, I need to speak to you,” Albert said solemnly, walking toward them. “Do you have enough of your senses to listen to what I have to say?”
He thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Yes Sir.”
“Good. What I’m going to say may sound harsh, but I have no choice,” the Innkeeper began. Frath frowned, not being in the mood for any sort of lecture. “We cannot raise your child, Frath,” Albert stated, spreading his arms helplessly. “I was willing to make allowances for Sheela, but the girls are alrea
dy distracted and no one is getting any work done.”
Frath nodded in understanding. He had expected a lecture on how terrible he was for getting Sheela pregnant and letting her die. Shame ran through his veins and he was ready for condemnation.
“I’m going to pay for Sheela’s services, so you don’t need to worry about that. Do you have a place where you want her buried, or do you prefer cremation?”
Cold searing pain stabbed Frath’s heart and his eyes widened at the words.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Albert protested. Tears were welling in his eyes. “I know you’re suffering, we all are, but there are matters to take care of and you’re not in any position to do so.”
Frath nodded quickly, understanding his friend’s position. Gorman’s hand was still gripping his shoulder firmly and it was helping him to keep his mind. “Cremation. Bad things happen to bodies in this city.”
“And the babe . . . what will you do?” Albert asked hesitantly.
Frath stood suddenly and violently. “I will never give her to an orphanage!” he vowed.
Gorman stood immediately and put an arm in front of him while Albert took a step back with his one hand up in defense. The innkeeper was afraid of very few things in the world, but the look on Frath’s face gave him pause. “Here now, I didn’t say you should! I know your past, friend and would never suggest that.”
Realizing he had reacted irrationally, Frath put his hands on his face and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he told Albert. “I just . . . I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’m going to raise her myself for better or worse.”
Albert put his hand on Frath’s shoulder. “I know. You’re a good man, one I’m proud to call friend.” Frath nodded and returned the gesture with a hand on the innkeeper’s shoulder. Albert squeezed and let go. “The child is inside. The midwife brought a wet nurse to feed her so she should be fine for a little while. There’s also a pack with supplies gifted to Sheela. You’ll find diapers and . . . whatever else babies need. I don’t know. I try to stay away from babies.” He and Gorman laughed briefly, but stopped when Frath didn’t join in.
Frath nodded and began walking toward the inn. Gorman and Albert exchanged worried glances before following. They found the baby in the arms of a noblewoman in the common room of the inn. It surprised Frath that Pelya had been taken there because he was certain Albert didn’t want to disrupt the patrons.
Confirming his thoughts, Albert spoke out. “Here, what is this then? Why has the baby been brought to the common room?
“I wished to see the child, Albert,” the noblewoman holding Pelya stated haughtily. She was about a foot shorter than Frath and was wearing an expensive crimson dress accessorized by a silk hat with fresh flowers embroidered into it. “I liked the young woman. Sheela was pleasant to me. It saddens me that she is gone.” She looked at the two guardsmen then pointed at Frath. “Is this the father? The one who looks as though all the light in the world has disappeared? Yes, that is him isn’t it?” She came over to Frath with the baby. “Your betrothed spoke highly of you and I could see love in her eyes whenever she said your name.”
She placed Pelya in Frath’s arms and he nestled her as securely as possible. The little eyes opened for a moment, recognized him, and then closed to go back to sleep. The noble lady rubbed Pelya’s cheek with the back of a finger. “What will you do with her, young man?”
“I’m going to raise her,” Frath answered with head held high.
She gave him an appraising look. “I am very pleased to hear that. I believe you may just do a decent job of it. There’s something about the dedication in your eyes and the resolve in your spine that I like.” She opened the small bag that was over her shoulder and took out a pouch. From it, she pulled a gold piece and a silver piece and tucked them into Pelya’s blankets. “Care well for her.”
“Th . . . thank you, Milady,” Frath stammered gratefully. It was a lot of money to give. The noble lady curtseyed and went back to her seat.
As Frath turned to leave, a knight wearing normal clothing stood and walked over. Dark blonde hair washed over his shoulders. His beard and mustache were thick, but neatly trimmed. Sky blue eyes were soft and compassionate as he placed a silver piece in the blanket. “May Reanna’s light shine on you and bless you, child.” He kissed Pelya’s forehead, a great honor. There weren’t many Knights of Reanna, Goddess of the Sun, and they were some of the most valiant in the world.
As he stepped back, another knight and his lady approached arm in arm. They each tucked a silver in the child’s blankets and spoke a blessing. Frath couldn’t keep tears from flowing down his cheeks as he stood there while twelve other nobles, knights and ladies came and deposited silver pieces in the blankets.
When they were done, Sergeant Gorman led Frath through the front door. Everyone watched sadly as the desolate man and his infant child entered the terrible city.
Chapter 7
No one bothered them on the way to the barracks. Sergeant Gorman was known as a fierce swordsman and Frath was an imposing presence even with a baby in his arms. There was only a dim glow of sunlight in the west as nighttime was creeping in. Lanterns were lit, but Frath in his grief preferred the darkness.
The Dralin City Guard District, or Guard District as most people called it, was more of a military fortress than a real district. An Altordan army general, Izamel, built it long ago for his personal use. He redirected military funds to do so rather than use his own money. In addition to some of the best military architects and engineers, he hired wizards to help strengthen the entire fortress and to protect it from magic.
Once the fortress was finished, Izamel decided that he should run the kingdom instead of letting a bunch of wizards do it. He declared war on the Grand Assembly of Wizards and then sat in the safety of his fortress while his troops attacked the Grand Assembly’s Estate.
General Izamel and every officer who had sworn loyalty to him died a few hours later. The wizards were vastly more powerful than a silly general sitting in a fortress. It took very little effort to defeat him once the wizards who had created the wards protecting the fortress realized that they would suffer under Izamel’s rule. They deactivated the wards and shortly thereafter, wizards overran the fortress, easily incapacitating whatever swordsmen hadn’t foolishly attacked the Grand Assembly.
Other than the officers, there was very little loss of life. Every soldier in Dralin was rounded up and forced to the fortress. Powerful spells kept them from attacking or fighting in any way. An announcement was made that they would each be given a chance to serve the High Council. They would swear fealty and be magically bound to it. If they betrayed that oath, they would instantly die a terrible death. The alternative was to suffer the horrible death immediately for the crime of treason.
Thus was born the Dralin City Guard. Dralin had become overrun with crime and no one was safe. General Izamel may have been an idiot for attacking the wizards, but he had the best training regimens in Altordan or any other country. The City Guard began restoring order and destroying crime. However, the purveyors of that crime were so powerful that the guard lost half its number in the first year without fully eradicating the problem.
More recruits were hired and trained under the vigorous regimen. The city settled into a balance of order versus chaos. Order hadn’t gained much ground in the centuries since, but the City Guard prevented things from becoming so terrible again.
Each thirty foot thick wall of the eight-sided district had two gates for people to walk through and a large double gate for large deliveries. Gorman and Frath reentered through the main gate of the northwest wall and returned to the barracks. Corporal Willmas and other members of Gorman’s squad were waiting for them. The corporal had made certain that everything was spotless, not wanting to risk Gorman’s wrath by letting the squad remain idle. The squad consisted of four units of six guards, men and women, plus a sergeant and corporal.
They walked to Frath’s bunk where
Gorman had him sit down on the footlocker. The bunks were made of wrought iron with simple mattresses sitting atop thin wooden box frames. There were rows of fifteen on each side of the wide center aisle, leaving a few extra. The walls and floor were stone that helped keep it cool in the summer and warm in the winter. Small mats at the side of each bunk were a measure of comfort for the feet of the tough guards.
Pelya continued to sleep peacefully in Frath’s arms. He liked holding her even though he was terrified by how fragile she was. He just wished Sheela could hold her. The thought drove another chill dagger through his heart. Frath had never realized pain could be so cold. He didn’t hear Gorman quietly tell the others that Sheela had died, nor did he see the sympathetic reactions and even tears from a few for his loss.
“What are you going to do with it, private?” Gorman asked with his arms folded.
Frath looked up. There was nothing but compassion and concern in the sergeant’s face. Frath had never seen this side of him. Sergeant Gorman was one of the toughest and most respected men in the City Guard. He brooked no nonsense and Frath admired the man more than anyone. The sergeant’s going with him to the inn was surprising. Even more so was his bringing Frath back to the barracks with the baby. “It, Sergeant?” Frath asked.
“It. The baby,” he clarified, pointing at the bundle. “You said you’re going to keep it, but what are you doing with it?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I know I can’t stay here, but . . .” Frath sighed. “Maybe I can find a job where they’ll let me care for her.”
“What about Lady Pallon?” a female private named Bava asked. She had been in the same unit as Frath for over a year. Her personality was normally as fiery as her red hair.
Frath shook his head. “Lady Pallon’s daughter left a newborn baby on the doorstep a couple of months ago then disappeared. Lady Pallon is raising the babe because it’s family, but she’s angry at being put in that situation and there’s no way I can take Pelya to her.”
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