by K. E. Saxon
Callum’s gaze turned pensive. “How odd. My uncle had a slave that had similar looks. He was only about nine, mayhap ten summers when I met him. I’d never seen anyone like him before, nor have I since.”
“Was he from Jerusalem, then?”
“My uncle said that the lad’s mother was from Cathay, a place that is as many or more miles northeast of Jerusalem as we are northwest. She’d been from a noble family, but had been captured and enslaved when she and her retinue were ambushed by thieves. He bought her from slave traders in the market of the city.”
They’d just crossed the burn when Fia stumbled slightly at a slippery place on its edge. Maryn kept her seat as the mare regained her balance. Patting the mare’s neck, she asked, “Where was the lad’s mother? Did your uncle leave her in Jerusalem?” She thought that a cruel thing to do, forcing the bairn away from his mother, but certainly believed Daniel’s father capable of such cruelty.
“The lad’s mother was dead.” Callum shrugged. “I was not told how she died.”
“Do you think this ‘magic giant’ could be the lad you met so many years ago?”
He was silent a moment. “Nay,” he said finally, “‘twould be impossible. How would he have survived on his own? And, as I recall, there was a babe he nurtured as well—some bairn of one of the camp followers that had died. In any case, what would be his purpose in returning here? I think it more likely that Alleck has contrived this magical creature in his head.” Sweeping his hand out in a wide arc, he continued, “There are no signs of any human habitance anywhere in these woods. I’ve certainly seen none, at least—and I have searched, several times in fact. Remember, I’m as familiar with the Maclean wood as I am with my own battle scars.”
Maryn looked around, endeavoring to see any clues that the others may have missed. After a moment she replied, “Nay, neither have I. I fear you are not wrong. I do wonder how Alleck is getting the coins, however.”
“I’m sure ‘twill all be revealed in time. For now, at least we know they were not obtained from my own collection.” Callum pulled on his reins and stopped. Maryn followed suit and turned in her saddle to face him, a question in her countenance.
“I think it not a good idea to tell my cousin of my gift from his father. ‘Twould only remind him of the horror my uncle committed against his family, and surely ‘tis not your desire to do such.”
Maryn thought of the nightmares that Daniel experienced occasionally, convinced they were related to his anguish as a youth. Aye, ‘twould only bring back painful memories for her husband and the knowledge of the coins would not serve any known purpose. “Nay, I do not wish for my husband to suffer. I’ll not tell him.”
*
A fortnight later a horrible gagging sound awakened Daniel. He rolled to his side and looked in the direction of the noise. The dim light of dawn that crept across the room allowed him to see his wife standing over the wash basin. His suspicions were now confirmed. His seed had found purchase. A sleepy grin crossed his face as his eyes made a slow trip down to her waist.
Rising from the bed, he went to get some gingerroot from his healer’s box. He noticed the retching sounds were waning, but the ginger would keep her stomach settled, at least long enough for them to have their talk.
*
Maryn thought she was going to die. This was the third morn in a row that she’d awakened with this terrible sickness, only this morn it was far worse. A cold sweat had broken out on her skin and she was sure she must have caught a fever. She poured fresh water into a cup and rinsed her mouth out before swallowing down a few mouthfuls. Taking a sprig of mint from the herbal bouquet on the washstand, she chewed the leaves to freshen her breath.
Stumbling back to the bed, she fell face down with her arms outstretched. She had not realized Daniel had gotten up until she felt the empty space beside her, but her stomach still churned too badly for her to lift her head to see where he had gone.
*
Daniel brought the sliver of gingerroot to her, as he had the past two morns. “Here, my love, chew on this,” he said, opening her lax jaw and placing it on her tongue. He sat down next to her then and rubbed her back. “If you’ll turn over, I’ll rub your belly; ‘twill help ease the sickness.”
“I cannot,” she said between chews. “Just allow me to die in peace; I give you leave to wed Jesslyn, if she’ll still have you.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Daniel’s mouth, but his voice remained serious. “And let my son die? Even if I were inclined to leave you to the buzzards, I certainly would never do so while you carried my progeny.”
Daniel mentally counted down the seconds, waiting for his wife’s reaction to both his teasing and his message. When she was still quiet after the fifth count, he stroked the hair away from her cheek. Had she fallen asleep again so quickly? He leaned forward. Seeing the expression of wonder that lit her now pink-cheeked countenance, he grinned broadly. Aye, she understood.
He could not help it, he leaned down and kissed her gaping mouth. “My thanks,” he murmured against her lips. And then, with much more reverence, he kissed them again.
*
A crisp, misty morn greeted Maryn as she walked out the door of the keep heading for Jesslyn’s cottage an hour later. She was set on bringing her friend and Lady Maclean together. A moon into the betrothal, and the ladies had yet to become friends.
But the time was “ripe” for the gathering and Maryn had just the enticement to garner their “yield.” She giggled at her mental wordplay, feeling light-hearted and blessed.
As she walked, she daydreamed of all that needed doing in the coming moons—with Jesslyn’s and Grandmother Maclean’s assistance, of course. Daniel was sure she was giving him a son, and Maryn believed him. After all, he was the one that had told her she was carrying; mayhap he did know how to tell the sex before the babe was born.
As she passed one of the alewives’ house, a man came out, his head bent as he dusted soot off his sleeve and called a farewell to the alewife. Maryn’s heart leapt into her throat and she swung her gaze in that direction, for she knew the voice: ‘twas that of the horse marshal she’d tricked! He’s supposed to be miles from here! But when she got a good look at the man, the tension fled from her shoulders and she relaxed. ‘Twas not the marshal. This man was much too tall and broad. She gave a sigh of relief, for she had no desire to come face to face with him again. ‘Twas preposterous, really, for her to have believed that ‘twas the marshal—for he’d hied himself off mere days after the theft.
A few moments later, her thoughts back on her happy condition, Maryn knocked on Jesslyn’s door, rocking heel-to-toe, so anxious was she to reveal her news. Alleck answered, clearly upset about something. Dried tears streaked his reddened face. “Alleck, are you well?” Taking the lad by the hand she turned him back into the room and closed the door behind her. “Where is your mama?” Looking around and not seeing any sign of Jesslyn, she turned back to him and awaited his reply.
“I know not. I woke up and she was not here—do you think the mother-stealer took her away?”
She bit back a smile. Poor Callum.
Tears welled in his eyes once again and Maryn knelt down and put her arms around him, drawing him close against her. “Nay, Callum did not take your mama away. You’ll see. She no doubt went to fetch water at the well or some such thing.”
“But she’s always here when I wake up! She’s s’posed to hug me and tell me to wash up before I break my fast. Then she gives me a bannock cake and some cheese. ‘Tis how we always do it.” He scrubbed at his eyes with the fists.
Just then, the door sprung wide and Jesslyn came through the open portal with Callum directly behind her. She had her head turned back toward him, laughing at something he’d said.
Maryn rose from her position on the floor and turned towards the couple, keeping her arm around Alleck’s shoulders.
“I told you Callum took my mama! Where have you been? I woke up and could not find you!” All
eck ran to Jesslyn and threw his arms around her waist.
Jesslyn turned her head to look down at her son and, noticing Maryn, nodded in greeting before directing her reply to the frightened lad. “I’ve only been to the well to draw some water, as I do every morn before you rise,” she explained. “Callum saw me carrying the bucket and offered to assist me. I’m sorry if you were fearful, laddie.” Then, walking further into the room with Alleck clinging to her waist and Callum following close behind, Jesslyn asked Maryn, “What brings you to my humble cottage at such an early hour?”
“I’ve come to invite you to the keep, as I need your assistance with a very important sewing task. Will you meet me in the solar after you’ve broken your fast?”
“‘Tis truth, my skill with a needle is limited, but I shall be pleased to help you, if I can,” she replied, her look one of piqued interest. “Would you like to stay and break your fast with us?”
“Nay, I’ve another errand to perform before my meal.” Looking down at Alleck she said, “You see? Your mama will never leave you, so put that fear out of your head.” As she walked toward the door, she caught Callum’s eye and asked, “Will you walk with me back up to the keep?”
“Tho’ ‘twould be a great pleasure, I must decline as I’m to have my meal with this beauteous lady and her son.”
Nodding, Maryn left the cottage and went purposefully on to her next quarry. If she were timely, Grandmother Maclean would be in the great hall breaking her fast.
*
Two hours later, Lady Maclean’s look was pensive as she sat with her back straight and her hands on her knees, fingers tapping. “In addition to the two dozen swaddling clothes, we must make ten shirts of the softest linen. The babe will need changing often, and we want to have plenty. Tho’ he will not wear the shirts for several moons, ‘tis best to have them ready before they’re needed.”
“Aye, Alleck would sometimes need several in one day. ‘Tis important for the babe’s health that his clothes stay clean and dry.” Jesslyn sat next to Lady Maclean, her brows furrowed as she fought with a stitch in her tapestry. “Ouch!” She brought her injured finger up to her mouth and sucked the wound.
The two ladies had been giving instruction since the moment they learned the news and Maryn was a bit overwhelmed. When she’d thought of this scheme, she’d believed ‘twould be mostly for the benefit of Jesslyn. A way for her to show her true self to Lady Maclean and break down that lady’s antagonism. But with each new item on the long list for the babe, Maryn realized how much she still had to learn before her babe was due.
In a dazed voice, she said, “The babe will have more clothing than I. You are sure? I had no idea a babe would need so many things.” She looked from one to the other.
The two ladies nodded and spoke at the same time.
“—Aye, even more.”
“—These are but for the first few moons.”
Panic in her breast, Maryn rose from her stool and walked to the arched window, looking out on the bailey where her husband was training his men. “I cannot do this. I’m no mother—I had no mother! I’ll surely do some horrible thing and my babe will suffer for it.” How was she to know what a babe needed? Why had she not thought of this before?
Her two companions came up next to her and Lady Maclean said, “Now, now, lass. You must not worry so. You’ll be a good mother and your babe will not suffer. Forget not, you have both me and Jesslyn to help you along.”
“Aye, Maryn. I shall be pleased to give you any instruction you need. You’ll do just fine,” Jesslyn said, patting her back.
Feeling a bit better, but still unsure of herself, Maryn nodded. She choked back a giggle when she saw her husband thrown to the ground by one of his trainees. Knowing how unusual that feat was, she realized her husband was in much the same dazed condition as herself. This made her feel much better.
Out of the corner of her eye, Maryn caught the knowing look Jesslyn gave Lady Maclean as Jesslyn said with mock innocence, “My, that was odd. I do not believe I’ve ever before seen Daniel so easily overset. Do you suppose ‘twas done deliberately?
Placing her tongue firmly in her cheek, Maryn replied, “Oh, aye. My husband does desire to build his warriors’ confidence as well as their expertise.”
Jesslyn and Lady Maclean gaped at her.
Maryn laughed. “I was jesting!”
That brought on a round of laughter between the three, which served to lighten Maryn’s mood a bit further.
“Let’s continue our list, shall we?” she said at last, delightfully winded from her mirth. Turning, she placed her arms around her friends’ waists as she moved with them back towards the stools.
For the next half-hour, she was instructed on rudimentary care of infants by the two experts. Her mind swam with all the new information. How was she ever to remember all these rules? What if she did something wrong and the babe got sick, or hurt, or—
The door swung open and she swung around.
“I’ve found you at last,” Daniel said to her with a broad grin on his face as he leaned against the open doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “I should have known to look for you here, but I decided to first search the areas where food could be found.”
She gave him a lopsided smile as she rose to her feet and sauntered towards him. “Ha, ha. My side aches with mirth.” And then, in feigned earnestness, she asked, “How is your backside, husband? No bruises, I hope—for I saw the trouncing you took. I pray you’ve not grown feeble with age.”
With narrowed eyes and a sardonic smile, he scooped her up into his arms.
“Eeeek!” Maryn threw her arms around her husband’s neck and held on for dear life.
“Pray pardon me, ladies, but I have something of import to discuss with my wife in privy.”
Maryn shrugged and waived to her amused friends as he carried her out of the solar.
*
Jesslyn felt a stab of envy for the love the two clearly felt for each other. She’d had that once—it seemed so long ago now. Sighing, she looked down at her tapestry, knowing that, for her, that kind of love had ended forevermore on the battlefield over two years past.
“You are not in love with Daniel, nor, I think, with my other grandson, Callum,” Lady Maclean said.
Jesslyn’s head shot up, her eyes wide with horrified dismay. Did the lady expect that she should love Callum in order to wed him? Would this betrothal be broken as well, if she did not? Oh, God! Would they expect her to wed the steward instead?
“Nay, be not alarmed. If Callum is content, then so, too, am I.” She gave Jesslyn’s knee a comforting pat. “But you did love your husband—Alleck’s father?” she pressed.
Jesslyn dipped her head and clasped her hands over the tapestry in her lap, leaving the threaded needle dangling from the last stitch. She knew not how to answer the older woman. Should she allow her true feelings to be known to the matriarch of this clan or should she equivocate? Nay, she decided in that instant, she was through with wiles.
Straightening, she threw her shoulders back and lifted her head high. With pride, she said, “Aye, I loved my husband deeply.” A wave of grief took her by surprise, making her eyes well with tears. “He was my strength, my light, my breath.” Embarrassed by her show of emotion, Jesslyn cleared her throat and touched her finger to the corner of her eye, dabbing at the stray moisture. “If I’d not had Alleck to raise, I think I might have committed the mortal sin of ending my own life during the sennights after my husband’s body was brought home for burial.”
Lady Maclean took hold of her hand and soothed the top of it with a gentle caress. After a moment, she murmured, “Aye, I know what it is to bury a beloved husband. My own dear Fergus has been in the ground lo’ these four long years and still a day does not pass that I do not miss him.” With a sigh, she shook her head. “The first several moons after his death were the worst days of my life.”
Seeing the same pain in the older woman’s eyes that she’d seen in her
own reflection these past years, Jesslyn felt a sense of communion begin to grow. And the lady had not censured her, as she’d expected her to do when she’d made her dark confession, which warmed and calmed her as well. “I do not yet love Callum,” she felt impelled to explain then, “but I hold some fondness for him. My greatest hope is that we shall learn to love each other as time goes on.”
Lady Maclean gave Jesslyn’s hand a squeeze. “‘Tis my hope as well.”
Jesslyn took a deep breath and released it on a slow stream. “As for Daniel…I love him as a brother and as a cherished friend. ‘Twas fear and desperation that drove me to behave so badly—and, I’m grieved to say, a total disregard for the feelings of either Daniel or Maryn.”
“Aye,” Lady Maclean said with a nod, “but you seem to have made amends to them. Maryn is quite fond of you and has taken your part as your protector and friend. Just see how she brought us both together this day.” She lifted Jesslyn’s chin, forcing her to look directly into her eyes as she said with a smile, “Now we shall be friends as well, I trow.”
Jesslyn smiled as well, feeling the warm glow of acceptance that she had not known she craved until she’d at last received it from the older woman. “Aye, now we are friends.”
*
Striding down the circular stair toward the level housing their bedchamber, Daniel stroked the soft breast he’d captured in his hand. Then, allowing his wife’s feet to drop to the floor, he pressed her against the stone wall in the alcove of the stair, nuzzling her ear as he continued his ministration to the plump mound. “So. You think me feeble, wife?”
Maryn thrilled to the low cadence of her husband’s voice, but was not yet ready to cease provoking him. “Aye, quite feeble, in fact.”
A wicked plan formed in Daniel’s mind. Pleasurable, but rather devious. He suckled his wife’s earlobe.
Maryn’s breath caught in her throat. “Daniel?”
“Hmmm?” he murmured, and trailed his lips over her cheek to capture her mouth. He sent his tongue deep in its wet cavern, hungrily gorging on her sweetness.
