by Kris Tualla
Liam quieted as recollection shifted his boyish features. “Are ye having a babe?” he asked Eryn.
Drew knelt beside her and took her hand. “We are,” he answered for them both.
“If she’s the mither, are ye the da?” he asked.
Drew nodded. “Aye. This child is mine.”
Liam paused, thinking. “Will it be my brother?”
This question, Eryn and Drew did anticipate. “Foster brother, Liam.”
“Aye—ye will grow together, and ye’ll need to help him ken how to behave,” Drew explained. “As a knight does.”
“But he—or she,” Eryn glanced at her husband, “will never have a claim to this estate. This is yours alone, even though we will bide here as a family.”
“Our child will have claim to my estate near Falkirk,” Drew added.
“Oh.” Liam was clearly less interested in future inheritances than he was in the prospect of having a brother. “When will I see him?”
“The baby is due to be born at the end of September or the beginning of October,” Eryn said.
“That’s a long time,” he whined.
“I guess that depends on which end of the birth you’re on,” she muttered.
“The good side is that we’ll have some months to grow accustomed to being a family first,” Drew posited.
“Ye are going to live here? All the time?” Liam asked him.
“Well…” Drew glanced at Eryn. “I still have responsibilities to the king. I will have to do a bit of traveling, yet.”
“And we are going to Falkirk to visit your sister,” Eryn said with stern intent.
“Aye—but ye said Liam would come along, mind.”
His eyes brightened. “I get to come? When?”
“In mid-August, I think.” Drew looked at Eryn. “Maggie’s babes should be well settled and ye can stay through the birth, as we talked about.”
She nodded, suddenly less fearful. “That would be wonderful.”
“That’s still too long,” Liam grumbled.
Drew laughed and ruffled his hair. “Trust me, son. The days will fly.”
March 14, 1355
Castleton, Scotland
Drew sat at a desk in the large study of the Castleton manor to put his thoughts to paper. He had rested at the Bell estate with Eryn for a full week thus far, languishing late in bed with her and loving her powerfully at night. Never in his life had he swived a woman so eager, so fearless, so responsive. She might actually wear him out.
In anticipation of that unlikely event, he was loath to leave her. But he had thought of a way to ease the burden of his king’s charge. Now he only needed to convince David, his sovereign. Drew dipped his quill in the inkpot and began to write.
King David II of Scotland
Tower of London
England
My Lord King,
I have successfully returned to Scotland with the accused murderess and that situation has been successfully resolved. I do thank you for your assistance in the matter.
While I traveled, I was reminded of how much time was required in my first assessment of the country. Now I am charged with raising your ransom. As I know Your Highness is anxious to escape Edward’s accommodations, I have a suggestion which may hasten that outcome.
My vassal, Kennan MacKennan, has traveled with me for these twelve years. He is capable, strong, canny, and loyal to Your Majesty. He only lacks the funds to outfit himself as a Knight of Scotland. I am willing to provide him with the necessary accoutrements if you would consider elevating his status.
My scheme would be to accompany and introduce the newly knighted MacKennan to the ranks at Stirling, where I propose he be charged with assembling a group of knights to spread across the lands and collect taxes from your subjects. MacKennan was with me throughout my assessment and is as familiar as I with the lands and the surviving estates.
I will continue to secure the Scottish border and the border estates, a task which I am both well skilled and well situated to accomplish. I feel I can serve you in this capacity, my King, much more effectively than I could by riding about the northern countryside.
Your judgment, My Lord, will be wise as always. I shall wait in Castleton for word of your decision. In the meantime, I hope you will congratulate me on my marriage and impending fatherhood.
Your loyal and humble Servant,
Lord Andrew Drummond
Bell Estate, Castleton, Scotland
14 March
The Year of Our Lord, 1355
Drew folded the missive and sealed it with his signet ring and wax. He would send Kennan to London to deliver the letter and wait for King David’s reply. Drew decided not to tell the vassal what the letter requested; if David said no, the man’s expectations would not be crushed because he would not hold any.
And if David questioned the authenticity of the letter, Kennan would not be put in a position to lie about his knowledge of the contents.
But if David knighted him on the spot, Kennan would be surprised and delighted at his promotion.
Drew smiled at the thought.
And back here in record time, I’d wager.
March 22, 1355
Eryn had been back in Castleton for two weeks and nothing about her life was the same.
Well, almost nothing.
Drew had left her in charge of the manor as before, and the servants on the estate still deferred to her for instructions and questions. That part was the same. But she was no longer allowed to do any of the work herself. Maids, who once gladly stepped away when Eryn rolled up her sleeves, now jostled her aside.
“My lady, that’s not for you,” they’d say.
“I’m no’ an invalid!” she grumbled.
“No,” they agreed. “But you’re the lady and you’ve got a babe coming.”
And then she had to step back and accept their labors in lieu of her own. Even if she judged those labors beneath her standards.
“The manor looks fine,” Drew told her time and again. “Relax. Ye do no’ have anything to prove, Eryn.”
Easy for him to say.
“Perhaps I could do it in the middle of the night,” she mused, watching a girl wash the stair steps with murky water. As if Drew wouldn’t notice my absence between the sheets.
The other change was with the people of Castleton. The town’s residents were no longer as friendly to her as they had been before. Even though she was proven not to be responsible for Geoffrey’s death, the charge that she bedded the knight was clearly true. That their child was to be born at the end of the summer was a common tale, shared freely.
Eryn sighed. There was nothing to be done with that. Perhaps Drew’s popularity with the masses would restore her good will.
Because, Drew was undoubtedly popular.
Each day after breaking his fast, he left the manor to go talk with the tenants. He was always gone for hours, exacerbating Liam’s impatience. The lad would tumble down the stairs after his lessons and ask her, “Is Da here?”
“No, Liam, he’s out on the land,” she answered.
He stomped his foot in frustration. “What’s he doing?”
“I don’t know, son.” I’ll call you ‘son’ even if you won’t call me ‘mither.’
Liam scowled. “I want to see him. When will he be back?”
Eryn shrugged. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“No, thank ye… I’ll be in the stable and he comes.” The boy turned and slumped from the Hall.
Eryn sighed. Someday.
“Talking to the tenants,” Drew said at supper. “Why?”
Eryn poured him a goblet of wine. “Talking about what?”
“About the grain they grow, the sheep and cattle they breed, that sort of thing.” He speared a bite of the roasted boar meat and put it in is mouth. “Mm. This is very good.”
Eryn looked askance at her husband. “And that’s it?”
Drew set his knife
down. “Ye ken, I do no’ have any knowledge of husbandry.”
“You don’t?” she asked, surprised.
“I left my father’s house when I was fourteen. I’ve lived the life of a knight ever after,” he said slowly. “And I can no’ steer this estate if I remain ignorant.”
“I hadn’t realized…” she paused.
He regarded her curiously. “Realized what?”
“That you didn’t have experience on your own estate,” she began. “Nor that you planned to guide this one.”
“Well I’m no’ going to sit on my arse and eat sweetmeats for the next dozen years,” he scoffed.
“Don’t you have commissions from King David?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I am negotiating a change in my duties.”
Understanding dawned. “Oh! Is that why you sent Kennan off? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Drew lifted his palms. “I can no’ say His Majesty will agree. It makes no sense to raise your expectations—or Kennan’s—in the now.”
“Kennan’s?” she queried.
He wagged a finger at her. “No. No’ a word until the answer comes.”
Eryn leaned back. Time to change the conversation. “Liam asks for his ‘da’ every day.”
Drew’s face brightened. “He does?”
“And,” Eryn paused for a last moment consideration of the suggestion she was about to make. “I think you should take Liam with you at times. In part so he can be with you and stop harassing me, and in part so he can learn along with you.”
The knight nodded. “That might be wise.”
“Those particular things, I can’t teach him,” she admitted.
Drew raised his hands in the air, grinning. “My wife just said she can no’ do something—and I have no witnesses.”
Eryn threw a chunk of bread at him. But she was laughing.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
August 15, 1355
South of Falkirk, Scotland
Drew, Eryn and Liam rode through the gate of the Drummond estate. In deference to Eryn’s advancing condition they had traveled the eighty-some miles at a slow pace, and in the relative luxury of a covered carriage. Drew and Liam had mounts tied to the back of the carriage, and often they rode together rather than sit inside the stuffy conveyance.
Eryn wasn’t able to enjoy the same freedom. The babe had grown quite large and she was constantly being abused from the inside. She wondered how she might survive another month and a half without a broken rib, at the least.
Sir Kennan—now knighted by King David II—rode with them as a guard, though they didn’t experience any adversity in the last four days. In the spring he had been gone from Castleton for over a month, waiting first for King David to grant him an audience and after that, waiting for him to make a decision about Drew’s requests.
When Kennan returned triumphant at the end of April, Drew helped him acquire the last bits of his equipment, then rode with Kennan to Stirling to see him situated. Eryn was greatly relieved over King David’s decisions because they kept her husband closer to home. True, he made regular excursions along the border and was gone for three or four days at a time, but that was far preferable to having him disappear into the highlands for months.
Kennan returned to Castleton in the last week with information about the ransom collections for Drew to take to King David, along with a summons for Drew to come to Stirling first.
Falkirk was conveniently along the way, and that suited Eryn’s plans perfectly; she was increasingly anxious about the birth. Thankfully it did not require much persuasion on her part to convince Drew to take her to Falkirk a couple weeks earlier than he planned.
The door to the Drummond manor grabbed Eryn’s attention. A trim woman looking to be in her mid-twenties emerged and ran toward Drew. As Eryn eased herself from the cart with Kennan’s help, Drew dismounted in time for the woman to collide fully into him. He picked her up and whirled her in a circle.
Eryn looked down at her own ungainly shape. That better be Maggie.
Drew set the woman down and she turned to face Eryn. Her hair was light brown and her eyes dark green. They moved over Eryn’s frame, assessing.
“And ye must be my new sister, aye?” she said, grinning. It was Drew’s grin.
“I’m Eryn, Maggie,” Eryn responded. “I would greet you with a hug, but I cannot get close enough.”
Maggie laughed, obviously delighted. “How much more time until I see my nephew?”
Eryn arched her back, stretching those aching muscles. “A month and a half or more.”
“So ye say?” Maggie laid her hand on Eryn’s belly. “What does the midwife think?”
“I haven’t seen one,” Eryn confessed.
“No?” Maggie glanced at her brother who now stood beside Eryn, his hand resting on her hip. “Perhaps I’ll summon ours and have her examine ye. It’s always wise as the end draws near.”
“And you, little sister. How did your own confinement end?” Drew asked.
Maggie smiled sheepishly. “’Twas only one babe and he came earlier than I expected. But he was the biggest one yet. I must have counted wrong.”
“And this is Sir Kennan MacKennan, Knight of King David II,” he continued.
Kennan bowed. “At your service, my lady.”
“It’s a shame my Beathas has but two years,” Maggie teased. “How do ye feel about arranged marriages?”
Kennan blushed.
Maggie sighed, linking her arm though Eryn’s. “Enough of standing around. Come in and meet yer nephews and niece. Andrew was fussin’ when ye arrived. I suppose he’s hungry and needin’ his mither about now.”
“Andrew?” Drew asked, his voice lifting.
“Aye,” she called over her shoulder. “I told ye was big.”
August 16, 1355
Drummond Estate
South of Falkirk, Scotland
“Twins?” Eryn glared at the midwife over her exposed belly. She hitched up onto her elbows. “You think I’m having twins?”
The middle-aged woman crossed her arms and shrugged. “I do no’ think. I ken.”
“Because I’m big?” Eryn threw a pointed finger at Maggie. “She says she was big! And she only birthed one babe!”
“And her babe only had one head.”
“What are you talking about?” Eryn cried.
The woman laid her cool hands on Eryn’s womb. She squeezed and wiggled something hard, low in Eryn’s abdomen.
“This is a head.” She moved her hand to one side and squeezed again. “And this is another head. Ye have two bairns comin’ and it’s true.”
Eryn flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling of her room.
“Twins?” she whimpered. This could not be true—could it? God in Heaven help me.
Maggie gripped her hand. “Ye can do this, Eryn. I did. And I only had nineteen years at the time.”
“When?” she demanded. “When will the babes come?”
“That I can no’ say,” the midwife answered. “But often it’s earlier.”
That sounded like a very good thing.
“Can I make them come early?” Panic began to overtake her. “Can I make them come now?”
She shook her head. “They’ll come when they’re ready.”
Was the room getting hotter? “Is there nothing to be done?”
“Rest,” Maggie said. “Before long, ye’ll be busier than a one-armed weaver.”
“That’s my advice, as well.” The midwife pulled Eryn’s chemise over her belly. “That and walking.”
“What? Why walking?” That seemed to make her ankles swell.
“Helps keep the heads down,” the woman said as she moved toward the chamber door. “If the babes flip over it can be a very hard birth.”
“Then I’ll walk!” No matter how much my ankles swell. Eryn sat up and rearranged her gown. “I’ll start today!”
“I’ll walk with ye,” Maggie offered. “I can show ye around the estate.”
Another unexpected thought knocked Eryn off plumb. “Will I have to hire a wet nurse?”
“No,” Maggie assured her. “That part’s easy. Ye have two babes and two teats. Feed a bairn off each one.”
“Oh…” That makes sense. “Did you always feed your boys at the same time?”
Maggie nodded, chuckling. “Aye. If I did no’ then I never would have moved from that chair.”
More sensible advice. I am so, so glad we’ve come. “And did you always feed your boys from the same side?”
“Aye.” Maggie winked at her. “Once I could tell them apart!”
“Oh, dear!” Eryn fanned herself.
Twins. Nursing two babes. Now the idea that she might not be able to tell the bairns apart? “Oh, my.”
Maggie leaned close. “Are ye well, Eryn?”
Eryn looked into the concerned eyes of her sister-in-law. “I am beginning to seriously reconsider some of my actions…”
Maggie laughed aloud at that.
“Well, as ye can plainly see, I still can no’ resist my husband’s bed. No matter how I pay for it!”
September 10, 1355
Stirling Castle, Scotland
Drew clasped forearms with several of the knights at Stirling Castle as he prepared to take his leave. He had been amongst his fellows for two long weeks, discussing both King Edward’s imprisonment of their own King David, and the securing of the English border. Conflicts between the border Scots and the English erupted constantly, provoked equally by both sides.
“Edward needs the coin to pay for his refurbishing of the Tower,” Drew stated. “And the longer David remains imprisoned, the longer these skirmishes will go on, unchecked. I suppose Edward hopes we’ll grow weary enough to pay the ransom.”
“And David expects us to raise it quickly?” one elder knight scoffed. “Has he heard of the Death?”
