The Reward of Anavrea

by Rachel Rossano

  “I thought you were above studying men.”

  Jayne averted her eyes. “I have not walked with many soldiers.” She ignored the sudden warmth in her face. “Do military men ever stop walking as if they are marching?”

  Tremain’s gait changed as he thought about it, but then returned to the even beat she observed before. “I don’t know.” She heard a smile in his voice. “I have not noticed. I will have to check next time I see my grandfather.”

  They were silent again.

  “I doubt that will be soon,” he admitted. “I am not welcome among my family anymore.”

  “Why?” Jayne asked before she thought.

  “I chose King Theodoric while my father chose the council. Father never took it well when one of us disobeyed.”

  “He disinherited you, my lord?”

  “If he could have, he would have. As a third son, I was not expecting an inheritance. He disowned me. I suppose I might have done the same, considering the circumstances.”

  Tremain was silent for a moment. “In his eyes, I betrayed him. He made certain we understood his political views. I knew where he stood for a long time before the coup attempt, but he never believed I would oppose him. I proved him wrong.”

  They approached the village. The houses huddled together in the night, dark and quiet. Jayne took the lead as they wove through the low buildings. Near the far edge, light came from a covered window. She approached the door and tapped. A moment later, it opened a crack.

  “Saria,” She smiled at the girl who peered out. “It is Jayne. I came to take care of your mother.”

  The child opened the door, letting the light spill onto the stoop. She smiled up at Jayne, but then gaped in shock at the man looming behind her.

  Jayne gently turned the girl around, and entered, herding the child before her. “Lord Tremain came to help me.” She set her bundle on the floor near the fireplace. “Where is your brother? I need someone to fetch Fiora. I will need her help.”

  ~~~~~~

  Liam observed Jayne in amazement as she set to work. In moments, the boy, a thin ten-year-old, was on his feet and out the door with strict instructions to go fetch Fiora. The little girl, Saria, retreated to the small pallet in the corner of the one-roomed hut and stared at Liam. Her eyes never left the sword strapped at his side. He caught a brief glimpse of the mother before Jayne pulled the rough curtain closed, blocking off the bed from the rest of the cramped room and disappearing behind it. He could hear the low murmur of their conversation, but he couldn’t discern any words.

  While he waited, Liam gazed around the hovel’s single room. A medium-sized fireplace took up most of the southern wall. A rough table with two heavy benches dominated the center of the room. In the northeastern corner of the room, two straw pallets lay against the north and east wall. Saria huddled on one watching him with dark eyes. The woman lay in the northwestern corner of the room. A curtain hung so that her bed lay hidden from the children’s but not from the fire, which was the only source of light.

  The door opened as Jayne reappeared from behind the fabric. A tall girl with long, brown hair followed the boy inside. Jayne’s face blossomed into a smile at the sight of her.

  “Thank you for coming.” Jayne crossed the room to greet the girl with a hug. “It is good to see you.” The girl smiled in return, but said nothing. Instead she stole an uneasy glance Liam’s way.

  “Lord Tremain.” Jayne turned to him. “This is Fiora, my apprentice. Fiora, Lord Tremain.”

  ~~~~~~

  A long three hours later, Jayne worked on clearing the table. The child was well on route. The mother, Parna, remained healthy, no sign of complications. As Jayne vigorously scrubbed the rough surface, she overheard Lord Tremain’s attempts to draw Fiora into conversation.

  “How long have you been assisting Jayne?”

  “Five years.” Fiora toyed with her skirt’s seam.

  “So, you assisted with Trina’s birth?”

  “No,” the girl answered, looking up briefly. “Trina came before Jayne began teaching me.” She turned to Jayne. “Shouldn’t I be fetching water now?”

  The pleading in her eyes softened Jayne’s heart. Despite the full bucket next to the fireplace, she took pity on the girl.

  “Yes, go fetch some.” Setting aside the rag, Jayne straightened and met Lord Tremain’s steady gaze. The moment the door closed behind Fiora, he spoke.

  “There is a full bucket next to the fire.”

  Jayne nodded. “You are intimidating, my lord.”

  “I am not going to hurt her.”

  “You know that and I know that, but she is not as confident.”

  Saria stirred in her sleep, bringing their attention to the children lying on the pallets in the corner.

  “Did you bring them into the world?” he asked softly.

  “Yes.” A smile pulled at her lips. “The boy, Alec, arrived in the middle of a snowstorm. His father brought me here through the thick of it because Parna was afraid. He was her first. There were no complications. Saria was different. She didn’t turn in time, so I had to turn her before she came out.”

  “And this one?” Tremain motioned toward the curtained bed. His wordless comparison to Trina’s birth hung in the air unspoken.

  “Parna is progressing well. I don’t see any signs that the Kurios has anything unusual in store for us tonight, my lord.”

  Jayne smiled at the relief in his face. Then her countenance fell. Memories flooded her mind. Trina, her stepmother, had been the friend she never had in childhood.

  “Don’t worry. Trina’s birth was unique. I doubt I will ever see another soon. The mother was very young.”

  A look of genuine sadness came over Tremain’s face.

  Silence fell between them again.

  The pregnant mother called out, so Jayne turned to go to her.

  “I am not your father, Jayne.”

  Jayne did not indicate she had heard him. That was yet to be seen.

  Parna’s face flushed with exertion as she breathed raggedly. In the midst of a contraction, she could not manage a word. Jayne knelt at her side and placed her hands on the woman’s extended abdomen.

  “Breathe through it,” she whispered.

  Parna nodded. She had been through this twice before and knew what to do. As the contraction passed and her muscles relaxed, she sagged back against the bedding bunched behind her for comfort.

  “Lord Tremain is here?” Parna finally gasped.

  Jayne could not read the woman’s expression in the dim light of the low fire.

  “Yes.” Jayne brushed aside the hair clinging to Parna’s sweaty forehead and ignored the puzzled look in the woman’s eyes.

  “He hasn’t touched the children, has he?” She grabbed Jayne’s arm, strong fingers biting into Jayne’s skin. “He won’t harm the children, will he?”

  Taking the woman’s hand from her arm, Jayne squeezed it and smiled. “He is here to make sure Klian will not come and whisk me away. The children are safe.”

  “You promise me?” Her face tightened, another contraction beginning.

  “I promise, Parna. Now breathe.”

  Two contractions later, Jayne left Parna’s side to wash her hands. She needed to check the progress of the child in the birth canal.

  Lord Tremain did not look up as she came around the curtain. In silence, she crossed to the fire where the kettle of steaming water hung to one side of the fire. Pouring a portion into a bowl, Jayne then added a portion from the water bucket next to the fireplace, bringing it to a bearable temperature. She set the bowl on the table and lathered her hands with the harsh lye soap she brought with her.

  “Should I wait outside?” he asked.

  “No, my lord, she is worried and frightened. This is the first time Joyru is not at her side.”

  “If she lasts much longer.” He motioned toward the weak sunlight coming through the window. “He will be here for the birth. Klian promised the men would return today.”


  “Not unless he comes within the hour. The child grows impatient. Could you fetch Fiora?”

  Tremain nodded and rose. She had forgotten how tall he was. Standing, he filled the small room.

  She swallowed her discomfort. As she rinsed her hands he disappeared out the door. A moment later, Fiora entered.

  “Lord Tremain said he would remain outside the door, until you need him.”

  The words on Jayne’s tongue were interrupted by a cry from Parna. The baby was coming.

  An hour later, a chaos of voices rose outside the cottage walls and then the door flew open.

  “Parna?” The call was punctuated by a bang as the hovel door struck the wall. Jayne looked up in surprise from the newborn swaddled on the table before her. Joyru’s frantic gaze honed in on her. “Is Parna well?”

  Jayne smiled. “Joyru, congratulate your wife. She has given you another son.” She lifted the child from the table and offered him to his father. “Perhaps you can bring him to his mother. He is most likely hungry.”

  The farmer’s face cleared. A smile pulled at his mouth. He took the child with the practiced ease of an experienced father and gazed down on the infant’s red face. The light of love flickered and took hold. He glanced at Jayne. “I shouldn’t have worried so. You always bring her through, but...”

  “You couldn’t help it.” She touched his shoulder and pushed him toward the curtained bed. “Parna is waiting for you.” Turning back to the table, she packed her supplies back into the bag.

  “Is it always like that?”

  Lord Tremain stood in the doorway, the early morning sunlight behind him. Surveying her scattered supplies, she asked, “Like what, my lord?”

  “Love at first sight.”

  Jayne looked for his face, but the light at his back made it impossible for her to read his expression. “Between father and child, my lord?”

  He nodded.

  “Yes, in most cases it is how it happens, my lord. These are good people, hardworking, steady, and loyal. If you earn their respect, they will follow you to the end. Without them, I would not be alive.”

  Jayne fastened the flap of her bag and lifted it from the table. Gathering her cloak from the bench, she turned to face him.

  “Ready to return to the vargar?”

  He stepped aside to allow her to pass out into the sunlight.

  Chapter Six

  Liam fell into step beside Jayne as she strode toward the vargar. He faltered for something to say to draw her into conversation.

  “I heard that some of the men that returned today served your father as soldiers and have minimal training. Considering the current need, I asked them report to Braxton. He can decide which of them will be an asset to our force.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you think this idea wise?”

  She stopped and turned to face him. “Why do you ask me? I’m the village midwife and the keeper of the household.” She pressed her lips together in frustration as she turned away. “I am not worthy of an opinion by birth or title, so stop treating me as an equal.”

  Apparently unaware she had forgotten to refer to him as ‘my lord,’ her chin lifted in a manner he was beginning to realize meant she intended to take a stand. She avoided meeting his eyes. Instead, she fixed them on a point a few inches to the left of his head. With her shoulders squared, standing straight and as tall as her small frame allowed, she looked every inch the noble she was trying to convince him she wasn’t.

  “I disagree, but...”

  Liam raised his hand as she opened her mouth to interrupt. Her eyes flashed, but she closed her mouth.

  “I refuse to debate that. Right now, all I require is your opinion, which I can request of any man or woman I choose. Do you think it is wise to include your father’s men among my own?”

  Liam held her gaze and waited. Her eyes, clear blue with specks of green, remained steady, but she remained ill at ease.

  Finally, she spoke. “They would add to your strength and show the people you trust them. Now, I need to return to the vargar.”

  Turning on her heel, she strode up the path.

  Liam frowned. Jayne wasn’t telling him everything. It shouldn’t have been so hard for her to answer his question.

  ~~~~~~

  Three days passed. Lord Tremain did not seek her out or speak to her directly.

  Jayne tried to tell herself that she liked it that way, but she did not feel as safe when he wasn’t nearby. The sensation heightened with return of the old guard among the newcomers. Many of them had made nuisances of themselves in the past, making lewd comments. When her father was alive, they kept their distance for they didn’t know how he would react. Lord Alain’s temper flared often and violently.

  Now, the comments grew more frequent and the men bolder. Jayne tried to ignore them and go on with her daily work. There was more than enough to do and not enough time to accomplish it.

  The fourth day dawned gray, and the air weighed heavy on the lungs. Jayne woke with a pounding behind her eyes. She dressed and woke the children.

  “My head hurts,” Ryana protested as she burrowed deeper under the covers.

  Rowana rose, but she frowned. As she rubbed her eyes, she said, “Mine hurts, too.”

  Jayne crouched down beside her. “It hurts to see,” Rowana complained as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. The child’s eyes were glassy and circled with shadows. Jayne brought her hand to the girl’s face and frowned at the heat that warmed her fingers.

  “Go back to bed, sweetheart.” Pushing Rowana gently back into her bed, Jayne couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips. The thought of the tasks ahead, floors to scrub and the bedding to be aired, seemed daunting. Her head throbbed harder as she leaned to pull the covers up to Rowana’s chin.

  She rose slowly so her head wouldn’t spin and turned to Trina’s bed. The five-year-old sat up and regarded her sisters with concern.

  “Are they sick?”

  Jayne nodded. “Does your head hurt too?”

  The brown curls bounced as Trina gravely shook her head. “Do I have to stay in bed too?”

  “No.” Jayne smiled at her. “If you feel well, you can spend the day in the kitchen. I am sure cook would appreciate your help with the butter.”

  Trina’s face lit up in anticipation of spending time in the kitchen, her favorite place. Jayne hoped the cook wouldn’t mind the little one under foot. They slipped out the bedroom door, trying not to disturb the twins, and walked down the corridor to the kitchen. Trina skipped ahead as they rounded the last corner and then burst into the kitchen.

  “I will help you today,” she announced as she ran up to the heavy-set woman working at the table.

  “Is that so?” Patti placed a flour-covered hand on the girl’s head as the child tugged at her skirts.

  “Rowana and Ryana’s heads hurt, so they are staying in bed,” Trina offered.

  “Then we will just have to take them broth later, won’t we?” Patti spoke to the child without looking at her. “Go pull out the churn for me, poppet. I expect the milking will be done soon, and I need someone to churn for me.”

  “Can I, please?” Trina danced in anticipation.

  “If you get the churn out in time.”

  Trina skipped off toward the pantry to find the churn. Pulling it out and finding a stool for sitting on would take her a few minutes

  “You look awful, Jayne.” Patti wiped her hands on the already flour-splotched apron. “Sit while I get you breakfast. Are you sure you should be up and working?”

  “I will be fine.” Jayne sat in the chair nearest the fire. She tried to smile. “I have a great deal to do today. Could you watch Trina? With the girls ill, I am not sure I can keep an eye on her and scrub the floors. She will get into mischief quickly.”

  “Never you mind, child.” The cook set a bowl of steaming cereal before Jayne. “I will take care of her. Now eat. It will give you strength.”

  Nodding, Jayn
e picked up the bowl and ate.

  The warmth of the thick porridge felt good going down. Patti finished kneading the dough just as the milk arrived. Then she instructed Trina on how to raise and lower the plunger in the churn. As Trina lifted the heavy handle, Jayne rose from the table.

  “I should begin my chores,” she announced.

  “Don’t overwork yourself.”

  Jayne hope she would feel better once she began moving. Taking the stairs at a steady pace, she made her way towards the first of the bedchambers.

  The noon sun had shrunk the shadows when she finished with the bedding and other miscellaneous interruptions that needed her attention. Her head still ached. When she bent over, her head swam. Telling herself that eating food would help, she descended to the kitchen.

  “The girls from the village didn’t show,” Patti informed her as she walked in the door. “I wouldn’t ask you to help, except we are the only ones available to serve the meal.”

  Jayne gave Trina a quick hug, took up the tray, and followed the cook’s lead back out the kitchen door.

  The main hall was full. Lord Tremain’s men, including the new recruits sat along the tables. Since Klian released the village men, the men in Lord Tremain’s employ ate their meals in the main hall. A second long table fresh enough to still smell like the tree it had come from stood along one wall. The old table dominated the other. Lord Tremain’s chair now stood at the head of the cross piece that joined them.

  He and Braxton had discussed this change in public the morning after the village men returned. Lord Tremain did not want to be sitting in such a distinguished place. Braxton convinced him it was necessary to keep peace by not favoring one table over the other.

  “Food,” one man cried at the sight of them entering. A general clamoring followed as the men took their places along the heavy benches. The cook took the table nearest the kitchen. Beginning at the end farthest from the head, she offered food to the men. Jayne went around her and began on the other table.

  A few of the faces that greeted her she recognized from times she had passed them in the halls. Many of the men offered a ‘thank you’ as they took their trencher from the tray. The courtesy and politeness of the men left her unprepared when she came face to face with Turtkin.