by Jane Henry
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” he asks. If this was anyone or anything else causing her discomfort, he would draw the sword from his waist and end it.
“Just stay with me,” she pleads.
The door opens and the local mid-wife enters. She is small and alert, well-known locally as the most experienced and efficient midwife to deliver babies on all of Avalere. She ushers me and Svali out of the room.
“Come, Svali,” I instruct.
Out in the quiet of the hall, the door closes with a soft click. Svali turns to me. “I’ve never seen a woman go into labor before.”
I shrug. “From what I have heard, it can be long and intense, but mostly uneventful,” I say. “I was oldest in my family and witnessed my mother on the cusp of childbirth. Though I was never present, it seemed pretty straightforward.”
Svali’s eyes widen, and she cocks her head, her arms folding across her chest. “You call childbirth uneventful?” she asks.
I frown. She questions me? “As a warrior, I’ve seen both birth and death, Svali. Both are natural occurrences, yes.”
Her eyes widen even farther. “Would your king agree with you?” she asks. “Does he think childbirth an uneventful natural occurrence?”
I chuckle. “Likely not. But he thinks the moons rise and set on Carina.”
Svali’s eyes twinkle, her lips turning up in a smile. “Smitten, is he? Weakness from the Warrior King?”
I snort. “You will not lead me to say a word against my king,” I tell her.
The door to Carina’s chambers opens, and out steps Aldric. “Idan,” he says, shutting the door behind him and stepping into the hall.
“Yes, my lord.”
“The midwife says it will be hours yet before the little one arrives, but Carina’s discomfort increases. It seems our evening plans have changed. I will not hold you here when you have your own land to tend to and much work to accomplish. I will, however, have to delay the formal announcement of the second throne.”
“Certainly, my lord. Is there anything I can do for you here before I take my leave?”
“No, thank you,” he says. “I will send you word when our child arrives, and we will celebrate the birth. I will let you know as soon as the time is right for me to make the announcement. Until then, please be careful. I fear the unrest will cause strife.”
Strife…the very word the hag spoke in the prophecy. I fear the impending birth of his child has thrown Aldric’s logic into disarray.
“Yes, my lord. Svali and I will take our leave, as I prefer to have her home before dark.”
“You’re welcome to spend the night here,” Aldric offers, but a low-pitched moan from the other side of the door diverts his attention for a moment. He turns the door handle, and steps back inside.
Svali turns to me, questions in her eyes. I shake my head. “Though it is kind of him to offer, we must return home this evening, giving them the privacy they deserve, as well as the privacy we do.”
She nods. “Yes, my lord.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Svali
Though he is careful to be polite and deferential to his lord, I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. My new husband thinks it somehow unmanly to be swayed by the mere event of childbirth. Must he always be so implacable? I will soon know.
I follow his lead, as he has our carriage summoned, and bids farewell to the king. He allows me a moment to bid farewell to Carina. I step into her room. She still paces about the bed, grasping her abdomen, a cup of water to her lips. She puts it down and extends an arm to me. I go to her, and she gives me a quick embrace, steadying herself on a chair by her dressing table. “I am so glad to have met you, Svali,” she says. “And though I know I have a good excuse, I am sorry our time is cut short.”
“Yes, my lady.” I kiss her cheek. She has made my arrival here so much more pleasant. “It has been my pleasure to meet you, and I wish you the best as the events of tonight unfold.”
She bows her head and smiles. “Thank you. You follow the lead of your new husband.” Her voice drops and her mouth comes to my ear, her gaze on Aldric as he talks to the midwife. “Your Idan, though he appears stern and detached, has a good heart. He has always been kind to me and fiercely loyal to Aldric. You’ll see beyond his stern exterior in time.” Her face contorts in pain and she gasps, grasping the back of the chair, another spasm overtaking her. She inhales deeply through her nostrils, her eyes closed, as she rides the wave of pain. After a moment, it passes, and she smiles at me. “You will see, Svali.”
“Take care of yourself,” I say warmly, “and I will come to visit you when your baby arrives.”
She smiles. “You will come visit me if given leave,” she corrects.
I suppose she is right. “Yes, my lady.”
She nods. “He may allow you.” Aldric joins me in leaving the room, and Idan stands waiting by the door, my cloak upon his arm. He quirks a brow.
“Ready, my lord.”
⊱⟢⋯⟣⊰
The air is brisk, the wind biting as we go to our carriage. The sun has set, dusk settling in blues and grays upon Avalere. Kleedan is rough and mountainous, always dark, and the second the sun sets behind the mountains, darkness intensifies, the transition from day to night nearly instantaneous. The change is more gradual on Avalere.
My husband seems deep in thought, his eyes fixed over my shoulder as he takes his seat. He has said nothing since we took our leave from Aldric, and he seems now to be brooding. His lips are set in a scowl, his brow furrowed, and his hands tucked into folded arms upon his chest. Has something transpired with his meeting with King Aldric to make him angry?
“It is brighter here on Avalere,” I say to my husband, as we settle in our carriage. I hope to distract him with talk, and to perhaps urge him to engage with me.
He raises a brow at me, and his lips turn down at the edges.
“Have I given you leave to speak, wife?”
My heart does a quick leap, and my stomach clenches. Though I’ve been with him almost twenty-four hours, I have not surmised that I’m not to speak to him unless given leave.
“I may not speak unbidden?” I do my best to keep the anger out of my voice, but failing.
His eyes darken. “You gave yourself to the Hisrach, Svali,” he said. “When you agreed to be my wife, you agreed to do so in servitude and submission. Did you not?”
I swallow. Yes. Yes, I did, though I hadn’t fully grasped the reality of my role to him. He’d seemed to soften a bit, and perhaps I assumed he was somehow warming to me.
“Yes, I did,” I agree. “But I did not know I needed your permission to speak.”
He uncrosses his arms, leaning toward me, both hands planted on his knees as his voice lowers. “Woman, you need my permission for everything.”
I blink, and then my mouth opens before I can stop it. “Fine, then,” I snap, glaring at him.
He lifts a heavy brown, his stormy eyes bluer than gray as his face turns to stone. “I will warn you once, wife. One time. When you speak to me, it will be in deference to my leadership. You will respect me always. This will be the only time I warn you without punishment. The next time you use that tone with me, it will be twelve.”
I swallow, my mouth parched. “Twelve, my lord?” I manage to choke out.
He scowls. “Twelve lashes with the tail end of my sword belt. Do you understand?”
My mouth drops open. Though I know he is capable of punishment, the pronouncement takes me off guard. “You would whip me with your sword belt?” I ask, incredulous.
His arms once again cross on the expanse of his chest. “Yes, if necessary.”
“Necessary?” I question, unable, it seems, to keep my tongue in check. “Necessary? You speak as if leadership demands a firm hand, when you can rule in fairness and kindness instead!”
He frowns. “Firmness does not negate kindness or fairness, Svali.”
“You speak of taking your belt to me, and in the
same sentence that to do so would be both fair and kind?”
He sighs. “You try my patience, woman. Be still, now.”
I fume, wise enough not to push him lest he take me across his knee right here in the carriage. He keeps his eyes focused on mine, and though I do not respond, my anger simmers.
“I will give you a few moments to compose yourself if you remain silent. I understand deference to my authority is new to you. But you must understand I mean what I say, and I have no patience for a shrew as a wife.”
My mouth drops open and I am just on the verge of spouting out a snappy retort that will undoubtedly earn me punishment when the carriage gives a great lurch. I gasp. Idan’s arms uncross, and he reaches to steady me. Seconds later, the carriage comes to a halt, and there is a sound of scuffling and cursing right outside the doors.
“Get to the floor,” he hisses. I obey. Though I cannot hide there, I know he wishes to defend me if danger is at hand. I kneel by his feet, my head bowed. The door is wrenched open, and my husband is yanked out of the carriage. I leap from my position, prepared to defend him. At least four masked men surround the carriage. I reach for Idan.
“Stay, Svali!” he orders as one of the masked men punches him straight in the stomach, another holding his arms back. I scream, disobeying his orders to stay, leaping down to go to his rescue.
Strong, rough hands hold my wrists, just as the man in front of Idan knees him in the stomach. He gasps and grunts, rolling away, and I do my best to shove my captors’ hands off of me, but it is futile. Someone pulls me away from the scuffle, my arms gripped behind my back, and I can see from the corner of my eye that our drivers are also held captive.
“Let her watch,” a voice next to me growls. “Make her see her new husband pay for splitting the throne of Avalere.”
One masked man rears back and delivers a vicious punch to Idan’s jaw. His head snaps back but he does not react. I writhe in the grip of my captor, but it is no use. I must have them unhand me. Quickly, I lift my foot and stomp, my heel connecting with the man holding me. It is enough to cause him to slacken his hold, and when he does, I wrench my arms free, elbowing him in the ribs, momentarily freed. My head snaps back when someone slaps his hand straight across my face. “Bind her tighter,” orders one masked man, his voice sending shivers down my spine.
“Unhand me, you savages!” I shout, but rough ropes are about my wrists now. Tears burn my eyes. Idan’s head is bowed low, and I wonder if he is unconscious, but, as the man in front of him draws back a fist, Idan springs to life. He throws his head backward, hitting the man who holds him. The man’s grip loosens, and Idan spins out of range of the second man, who smacks at vacant air. Idan rolls to the ground, snatching his sword from his belt, and, with one wicked blow, cuts at the legs of the man who’s beaten him. The man howls in pain, crimson spurting from the slashes in his breeches as he slumps to his knees, but Idan does not stop. He spins around, catching the man holding him off guard, and stabs at the man’s chest. A gasp, and the man stumbles backward, but Idan does not stop. He leaps forward, and the man who held me tastes the bitter edge of Idan’s sword. My attacker screams and falls. One masked man after another attacks Idan, but he holds each off, his sword flashing. He is no longer defeated, but a warrior in battle, expert cuts of his sword brings every last one of them to the ground. The sight of so much blood nauseates me, one man’s hand grasping his neck as he gurgles and trips, twitching before he lies still and lifeless in a pool of his own blood.
He’s killed him. My husband has taken the life of our attacker and gravely wounded the others.
Next, he goes to our drivers, but when he approaches their captors, the masked men flee.
Idan comes to me, sword still dripping with blood, one eye swollen and his face lacerated.
“Are you hurt?” he asks.
I shake my head, numb from shock, from watching death right before my very eyes. My face stings from the blow, my arms sore, but I am otherwise unharmed.
Idan looks to one of his drivers. “Bind them,” he says. “Send word to Gregor of the attack, and stand sentry here until they are taken captive.” The man nods.
“Take us home,” he commands. “I will send word to Aldric in the morning.” He sighs. “I should not have traveled without establishing a guard to protect us.” He wipes his sword clean on the grass and returns it to his waist.
I return to the carriage, my eyes damp with unshed tears, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I pant, seating myself down on the bench. He draws one hand across his brow.
“Unrest in Avalere indeed,” he says, before a look not unlike concern passes across his face. “Come here,” he commands, lifting his arm for me to go to him. Moments before the attack, he ordered me into silence, demanding I ask permission for everything. I just saw him end the life of another without so much as a grimace. He murdered our attackers as if it were no different from tying his shoes or drinking a pint.
Now he wants to cuddle?
His jaw tightens. “Come here, Svali. You’ll already answer to me for your defiance when I ordered you to stay in the carriage. And now you try my patience by refusing comfort?”
“In trouble?” I snap. “For going to your defense?”
His eyes narrow farther, his lips turning down in a scowl. “Trouble for putting your life in danger.”
“It already was in danger, you fool!”
“Enough!” he bellows. “You will be silent until we arrive home, and only then will I deal with you.”
I scowl right back at him, my arms tight across my chest in a futile show of self-protection.
Why did I ever agree to wed this brute?
⊱⟢⋯⟣⊰
It is late, the skies a deep purplish-black as we finally arrive back at our home. I shake myself awake, lulled to near slumber, my eyes heavy with the long day and much that is on my mind. When I focus in front of me, Idan stares, his bearded jaw clenched, feet planted wide apart on the floor of our carriage.
He stands, opens the door, and gestures for me to rise. “Get out,” he growls, his deep voice harsh in the still of night.
I get to my feet with a grumble, still angry at him. Though I know, according to his rules, I deserve to be punished for my behavior, much has transpired today. Between the accusations of Carina’s servant and the knowledge of unrest in Avalere, I am weary. So I do not protest when Idan places his large, firm hand at the small of my back and guides me into our palace.
I am so tired, I hear only the murmur of commands, questions, and harsh orders at first.
“My wife needs her rest,” he says. “Bring immediate word from Gregor or Aldric, but do not disturb us otherwise.”
Servants bow, as he guides me to our room.
Will he allow me rest after what he’s promised?
After opening the door to our bedroom, he ushers me in and points to the bed. “Sit, Svali.”
I obey, watching him shut and fasten our lock. His gaze has softened, his shoulders relaxed now. He no longer seems angry, and I am grateful.
He turns around and stalks to me. “Today was a long day for you,” he says. “You were tried at the king’s residence, and the attack on our return trip was both unexpected and unsettling. Tonight, you will get some rest.”
My heart patters in my chest. Will he punish me tomorrow, then?
I look away from him, trying to make sense of it all.
“Is there something you wish to say, Svali?” He stands in front of me, my magnificent warrior husband, his feet planted apart and broad arms crossed on his muscular chest, eyes focused on me with both warning and concern.
I have so much to say, but I will start simply.
“My lord,” I say. “What…what became of the men who attacked us?” I begin to shake.
So much bloodshed…
He does not blink as he responds. “The ones I did not kill were bound and taken to Gregor, the second in command to Aldric. He lives closest, and will see the men brought
to justice. They will be suitably punished for treason. Anything else?”
“You mentioned… that I will be punished as well.” My voice falters. I am once again a child caught in trouble in school, embarrassed by my actions and nauseous with apprehension.
To my surprise, his eyes gentle, he sits next to me on the edge of the bed and folds his hands in his lap.
“Yes, Svali. You know I expect you to obey me. You could have been killed for failing to obey me. Once exposed, one swipe of a sword or twist of your neck, and they could have killed you.” His voice is both stern and gentle, but no longer scolding. “And you must understand when I give an instruction, it is for your own good.”
“But what if you are wrong, my lord?”
His brows rise. “I never said I would be perfect,” he says. “I am not a god, Svali. I am fallible. But when I fail, the responsibility lies on my shoulders, not yours.”
I nod, but do not respond.
“As your leader and protector, I will take my duty to care for you seriously.” One hand reaches for my knee and squeezes. A wave of something warm and pleasant threads through my lower body at his touch, my chest heaving with the thrill of his stern voice.
He would punish me for putting myself in harm’s way.
Why do I like that he would?
A day or so ago, I rejected the imbalance of power, but now I don’t.
“Do you dislike the thought of rising tomorrow to face your punishment?” he asks.
I think about it for a moment. I do dislike knowing I must go to bed and rise to face discipline. I will not sleep well knowing his displeasure hangs over me, especially as he mentioned his sword belt earlier, in the carriage.
“I do, my lord.”
“Then come here now. We will put this behind us, as you learn your place as my wife and learn to submit to me.”
My stomach clenches as his fingers go to his waist, and the sound of clinking metal indicates he’s removing his sword belt. Will he whip me with it? But, as my breath catches in my throat, he doubles the belt up and places it on the floor then pats his lap.
