“It’s not what you think,” I tried to explain. “Ah, ah! I think it’s time! I think-”
“Had a little accident, did we?” An ugly gleam entered the male’s eyes, and I saw red.
“No, I-” I all but shouted, but he wasn’t fit to hear me.
“I think ye can manage on yer own.” Ketik snapped as his eyes flashed black, runes lighting up, lips curling in disgust.
“She canna have that babe on her own, Dub- Ah, uhm, Ketik,” Quaz’s face flushed guiltily before he cleared his throat roughly. “Fatherin’ be damned. No matter the sire, it’s still a babe, an’ she’s still a livin’, breathin’ bein’. Tis madness ta chance it. Bektam would-”
“Fuck tha’ fool! He’s as good as dead now, anyways! Why prolong it?! Let him out ta do as he will! Ye know the way of it. Bindhe and Clohe went much the same, what makes ye think their end’ll be any different?”
“An’ Zeik? What ‘o’ him, then? Or Bane? Or the others in the ‘combs?”
Leering down at me, Ketik sneered, “Dinna matter. Canna ye hear the arse? No... Tis different. She’s a dead woman walkin’.”
Having had enough of him, I struggled to sit up, glaring at him as my eyes lit bright blue, runes flaming, crackling like static in the air during a storm. “You’re the dumb arse! I am sick of your dirty looks and your foul words! I didn’t ask to be taken! You’ve kidnapped us!”
Leaning in, rushing the bed, he roared, “Ta save me brother!”
“He. Left. Me. Whatever he’s done to himself, is of his own doing! You will release us, and you will leave him be! He doesn’t want me anymore, said so himself!” The words were bitter on my tongue, but rang true.
Face flushing so dark, eyes blazing and pitch black, spittle flew from his mouth as he gripped the edge of the bed, unearthing a mighty roar. My as of yet born child stilled, the kicks he was giving my abdomen ceasing immediately. The room lapsed into dead silence, Ketik’s chest heaving like a bellows, veins in his neck popping up and pulsing.
“Ketik...” Quaz’s voice was low and forceful, a lull to it that had the hairs on my nape prickling.
“No!” Ketik boomed. “We do this my way!” Head whipping around, he pointed to Brevin, who was softly crying from his corner. “Ye’ll stay put or I’ll beat the piss outta ye, an’ ye too.” His gaze whipped back to Quaz.
Quaz’s expression tightened and a low growl built in his throat.
“An’ ye,” the mighty Ketik swung his gaze back to me, “ye’ll push out that feckin’ squallin’ brat, cut the bleedin’ cord, suck up yer innards, an’ fix me dumb arsed siblin’!”
“And you, you insensitive bastard, can go screw yourself! Now, you, get out of this room!” Finger stabbing at him, eyes flashing, vision changing as it darkened, rage flowing through me, I screamed the last words, sending him flying back, slamming into the wall, then straight out into the hall.
Brevin’s jaw dropped in amazement, but Quaz just grinned, rushing to the door to poke his head out.
There was a hard groan and a pained moan, letting me know the arsehole still breathed.
Quaz’s hairless brows arched and he grinned wider. “Be thinkin’ I like ye, lady nugget.”
“Talk and you’re next!” I barked.
Miming zipping his lips, smiling wider, he just chuckled.
Tis Time
“Ah! It’s too much! It’s too much! It hurts! Someone help me!”
“Ye willna let me come near ye. Canna help if ye dinna let me have a peek.”
“No one’s peeking! At anything!” I shouted irrationally, slamming the blanket down as his fingertips grazed the edge. “And what do you know about birthing babies?! Have you even done this sort of thing before?” My voice shattered on a wail, hands fisting the sheet.
The rattling of the walls had gotten so bad we were all choking on the dust, a sheen of red covering the room. Brevin had long ago passed out from exhaustion, sound asleep and snoring on the floor. Quaz had been humane enough to bring him food and water earlier, and Ketik had yet to come back. While I was thankful for the angry, purple-eyed Ornthren’s absence, I had a really bad feeling about it.
Bearing down with the next pulse of pressure/pain, I felt something give, a sort of sliding sensation. Crying out at the mounting sting at my opening, I tossed up my thin covering, all sense of propriety or bashful anythings aside, gaping as the head of my child crowned.
“Oh, bloody... hell. I lied,” Quaz mumbled, flushing a dark shade of green, mouth flapping open and shut as he flopped back on his ass.
The urge to push came again and I gripped my knees, panting through it, rewarded with a better glimpse of a perfectly rounded infant head.
“Ah! It hurts,” I growled, gasping at the burning sting, but I wanted this over with, and I wanted it done now.
“Hafta... lotta... ye...”
“I know!” Eyes flashing, I reached forward, ignoring Quaz as he stumbled towards the edge of the bed.
“Ye canna catch it yourself,” he blurted, wide-eyed, when he realized that was exactly what I was about to do.
And who else did he think was going to get the job done? “Really? Watch me.” Another pain hit and I bore down hard, reaching forward to catch the already wailing babe.
The newborn flew the rest of the way out in a rush of birthing fluid and babe, much larger than I would have imagined, but so small still.
A stout wail rent the air, blood curdling in its intensity but so sweet to my ears.
“Oh... Oh...” Was all I could choke out as I pulled the squalling babe to my breast and cried, bursting out into heavy, heaving sobs, tears streaming down my face as I had a good look at him.
Quaz still looked poleaxed, his blood red troll eyes huge, face suddenly unreadable.
Tucking the screaming infant, wrinkly faced, more than a little pissed, and covered in blood, into my chest, I took a deep breath, settling back against the bed as I held him close. His pudgy fists flailed wildly in the air, legs sliding over my arms, slippery with birth, letting the world know of his arrival as he howled his displeasure.
Soft, fuzzy orange brows furrowed over large, bright blue eyes, a small dusting of orange fuzz covering his perfectly shaped head, and his little nose, small but wide, crinkled as his face pinched tight. Snuffling softly, his fat little fingers found my hair, gripping and tugging it tight as he rooted around into the open air.
Cradling him gently, I laughed softly at his exuberance, cleaned off his face as best as I could with the cloths Quaz had tossed next to me, and put him to my breast. Turning him slightly, I jumped when his little nostrils flared and he grunted, immediately latching onto a nipple, suckling hard.
Soft little grunting noises, like a little piglet happy to feed, filtered through the room. Smiling down on him with motherly pride, I place a quick, chaste kiss on his head. Once he was settled, I glanced up at Quaz, meeting his stunned, red gaze. They never left my son’s as he suckled hungrily.
“What are ye gonna tell him?” he blurted, blinking slowly.
“Nothing.” My voice hardened, hands tightening on my babe. Body still contracting, though not as hard, I was more interested in finishing this. “I’m not done yet.”
“Not done... yet?”
I was beginning to feel grateful I’d gone this alone, and for all of Adamina’s, I mean Zeme’s, informative talks about babies and child birth.
What did he know of birthing?
Sighing heavily, I motioned that he should come forward. “Come. There’s more. I need your help. Don’t pass out.” The rush of everything waning, I was starting to feel drained—bone tired.
“More! There’s more? More can fit in there?!” His eyes kept going from my woman’s place to me, then the babe, grimacing as he tried to force his face not to.
“Not another babe.” The idiocy wasn’t needed, and my tone implied it quite heavily.
“Och, phew, dinna be scarin’ me like tha’, woman! Yer shite already looks stretched ta-” At
my non-plussed look, he quieted and mumbled, “Isna he big, eh? I says to meself, how can another fit, erm, in there?” He pointed to the gaping maw my child had unearthed from, yanking his fingers back just as fast, like he thought it might suddenly sprout teeth and bite him. “Uhm, was all.”
Lips pursed, a small snort pushing free at how disturbingly ridiculous this all was, I wasn’t going to dignify that with an answer. “Just... just come here.”
Approaching slowly, he fetched the bowl of hot water and clean cloths he’d laid out, swallowing hard as he assisted with the afterbirth.
“Is that all?” he asked when all was done. His hopeful tone had me laughing as I swaddled my new babe in a clean, dry cloth, accepting his offer to change the bed.
We’d tied off his cord with a small length of twine Quaz had boiled, using a small, clean knife to cut it.
“Lost a lot of blood,” he mumbled as he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Not gonna die, or nothin’, is ye?”
“I don’t plan on it,” I murmured absently, staring down into my son’s sleeping face.
Bundling up all the bloodied rags and sheets, Quaz balled them up, a look about him as if he’d love nothing more than to flee, but wasn’t sure I was out of the woods yet.
“You can leave, if you want,” I offered, never taking my eyes off the little cloth wrapped bundle. Crooning softly, I ran my fingers softly over a cherub cheek, grinning when he mewled, face pinching for a moment before smoothing out, then went right back to sleep. I’d never seen anything more, “Beautiful.” Sniffling softly, I cupped his little bald head, kissing it tenderly. “Hello, little one,” I whispered hoarsely, “welcome to the world.”
Lineage
I’d just drifted off, the baby snuffling softly in his sleep from the small crate Quaz had helped prepare. Stuffed with soft furs and my cloak, my little one was warm and comfortable, cocooned in his little bed. I was sore and dead on my feet, pale but freshly washed, and I was happy. Mine, I thought, thinking of my little one, relief washing over me, as it was just the two of us. Privacy at last.
Quaz had scooped up Brevin, settling him in a small, empty room they liked to use for storage, right next to the one I occupied, making a small pallet out of extras to place him on.
Promising to look after him, he’d bid us good morning, or for him, as the sun was out, goodnight, and lumbered off.
The cave rattling wasn’t what startled me out of my short lived, dead sleep, it was the angry, gut twisting, bellowing roar.
There was a series of thumps and thuds, cursing and snarling, Ketik’s voice followed by Quaz’s, shouting and bellows, and then heavy foot falls, alerting me that someone was headed right for us, had me popping up.
“Missus!” Brevin came scrambling in, rushing for the bed, diving underneath the blankets to cower. “He’s come, missus! Ketik set the beast free!”
“Free? Who? Beast...?”
“NO!” Quaz snarled, sailing into the room and right into the wall, a mighty roar following as his body made a crater sized hole in the cave wall of our room, his body falling with a heavy thump, where he then lay, unmoving.
Gasping, I tried to get up, tucking my babe farther towards the wall, gritting my teeth as I slowly shuffled my way over to the downed Ornthren.
Quaz wasn’t moving, and I couldn’t make out any kind of breathing pattern from my spot, normal or erratic, his odd angle making it near impossible.
About to let go of the bed and stumble towards him, Quaz’s eyes flit open and he blinked up at me. “Ye alright, Nugget?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you the same?”
Quaz’s eyes found the baby, who’d woken up from all the commotion, crying softly. “Save tha’ bairn,” he muttered, struggling to his feet.
Just about to reach him, a snarl ripped through the air.
“MIIINNNNEE!” Huge body filling the doorway, I gasped as I got my first look at him. “No touch! Mine!” Black, dead eyes scanned the room, the body that once screamed virile and strong was wraith thin, so emaciated I couldn’t help the softy cry that escaped me.
“Gersthart,” my lips trembled at the sight of the male in front of me, my bonded, a shell of his former self. “What’s been done to you?” All razor sharp edges, from his high cheek bones to his knobby looking knees, the only thing he had left on his wide frame was lean muscle and sheer size. It looked odd, unnatural, his skin an unhealthy yellowed grey. Trolls were built thick, and he was anything but, giving him a ghoulish, deathly appearance. His eyes were sunken in, cheeks hollowed, hands like thin, reaper’s claws. “Is this the price you payed to be rid of me?” The pain and hurt in my voice was undeniable.
Sniffing the air, head cocked to the side, a harsh sound rumbled out of him. “Mine.”
“No,” my head shook, “not anymore. You don’t want me anymore. You made me go away. You deserted me.”
“Dinna think agitatin’ his arse right now is the best-” Quaz didn’t get a chance to finish, garbling out a shout as he sailed, much the way he’d entered, right over Troll’s head as he lifted him, roaring, tossing him back out of the room.
Brevin moved under the sheet, catching Troll’s attention, and the unstable Ornthren roared again.
“Don’t hurt him!” I cried, stumbling to reach the small boy as Troll ripped the sheet off. “Gersthart, no!”
“MINE!”
A high pitched scream ripped from Brevin’s throat as I threw myself over him.
There was a second roar, challenging the beast that’s become my bonded, but it was Ketik who shoulder-rammed Troll into the wall, forcing him into the crater Quaz had made.
“Run!” Pushing Brevin towards the door, he didn’t look back as his little legs pumped. “Hide if you can’t find Quaz!” Wait, what am I saying? “Run anyways!”
“Ye run too,” Ketik snapped over his shoulder, nodding towards my baby. “Take yer get an’ be gone. I opened the cave for ye. Made a mistake,” his eyes flashed black, “I’ll not be apologizin’, but best ye save yer arses now.”
Nodding, I went to retrieve my son, breathing heavily with the effort. The two were still battling and I knew I didn’t have much time, if we escaped at all.
Ketik cried out in pain only moments later, thumping as he slumped to the floor.
Time had just run out.
Running, I tripped over a sheet, crying out as I hit the floor.
“Mine!” Troll stooped over me, hunching, head jerking as the babe’s wail finally caught his attention. Growling low, he froze.
“NO!”
Snuffling loud, Troll shot up and stormed past me, eyes wide and flaming, orange licking his black irises like fire.
“No!” Gripping his leg, I held on tight, grunting when he flicked me off as if I was nothing but a nat, sending me tumbling. The baby was screaming his head off at this point, blankets kicked loose on his little body. I threw myself on Troll’s back, beating at him fiercely with clenched fists as I screamed obscenities, telling him exactly what I’d do to him if he dared harm a hair on my baby’s head.
Troll froze at the sight of the infant, sucking in a sharp breath. Hopping off his back, I scrambled around him, hovering over the little crate bed protectively.
“Don’t you touch him! I mean it! I’ll murder you!”
Troll fell to his knees with a soft chuff, shoulders slumping, and just stared. As the little one’s arms and legs flailed and he squalled with all his might, the fight went right out of him.
Ignoring him, I snatched the babe up, hugging him close. Baby tucked into my side, I scooted back across the bed, hoping to reach the other side. Troll’s hand on my ankle, grip steely and tight, prevented that.
“Stay. Bleedin’.”
I was bleeding, naturally, and quite a bit, my borrowed, flowing white shirt stained crimson along the bottom, dripping crimson around the hem. Knowing I couldn’t fight him, even at full strength, I settled uneasily, focusing on calming the baby.
Watching Troll warily from
my peripherals as he just sat there, hunched at the side of the end of the bed, fingernails digging into my ankle, staring, I exposed my right breast, cuddled the babe to it, and let him feed. Mewling hungrily, his little fingers gripped and squeezed, lips latching on immediately.
Head cocking from side to side in a very hawk-like, animalistic manner, eyes still bottomless pits of black, Troll was still more animal than man, staring at the small baby curiously.
“Name,” he growled softly, adjusting his knees to lean forward.
“I-I hadn’t decided yet.” Tense, my hands tightened and I leaned farther away, the baby fidgeting, my nipple popping loose as he lost his grip, wailing softly.
Jerking back, Troll grunted, waiting until I’d settled my son again to lean back in. A low, soothing hum vibrated Troll’s chest as I placed him to my other breast. Troll reached out a hand slowly, uncertain, fingertips brushing a tiny foot. Tilting his head again, he sniffed loudly, the humming growing louder and louder.
“Calder,” Troll snarled softly, staring at my distended nipple when the babe had finally finished with it, burping easily when I put the little one to my shoulder.
Risking a peek at Troll, I eyed him, still shocked silly, his humming croon vibrating the bed as he leaned forward on bent elbows.
“Calder,” he said again.
“I don’t... I don’t know what that means,” I murmured softly, scared of upsetting him, voice barely above a whisper.
Reaching up to brush a hand over the baby’s cheeks, he murmured, “Calder, mine.”
“Calder? The baby?”
“Calder mine,” he brushed his cheek again, then, gaze intent on mine, eyes less dead, a hint of life peeking through, “Calder Gersthart’s.” The words were spoken slowly, as if hard to get out, but there was a possessive edge to them that had my heart rate kicking up.
“The baby is mine.” My rebuke was gentle, but I wanted to make sure we were very clear here.
“Nugget baby.” He nodded. “Calder mine.” I didn’t know if he quite understood, but wasn’t willing to push.
The Toll Page 40
