Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (36 page)

Everett’s young face was grim
with the seriousness of his mission. “Aye, my lord. I shall return as quickly
as I can.”

Kenneth watched the knight ride
off.  Turning back to Aubrielle, he could see that she was once again that
pale, slightly greenish color.  She had her kerchief to her mouth.

“Where is Everett going?” she
asked through the material.

He walked over to her palfrey and
checked the reins, the cinch on the saddle. He was being overly careful and he
knew it.

“To London,” he said casually.
“He will return before Christmas.”

“Why have you sent him on?”

“To announce our marriage, of
course. We mustn’t keep the king uninformed.”

Aubrielle couldn’t disagree. But
she found that she was less and less concerned for London, the king, or
anything else at the moment. The only matter of concern was her lurching
stomach.

“Kenneth?” she asked quietly.

“Aye, sweetheart?”

“Can we please return to Kirk
now?”

He smiled and kissed her free
hand. “We may indeed.”

He mounted his charger and the
horses swayed in anticipation of turning for home.  “Slowly, please,” she begged.

He laughed softly. In fact, he
couldn’t remember ever being so happy, or having so much reason to laugh.  He
could not imagine that his life could have ever gotten any better, but the last
few minutes had proven him wrong.

If this is what it means to be
weak, then let me be weak.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

Early
July, 1334 A.D.

“Why am I not allowed in?”
Kenneth’s face was flushed and veins bulged dangerously on his temples. “If
there is something amiss, then I must be on hand.”

Argus was having a difficult time
keeping the man at bay. “There is nothing amiss, my lord, I assure you. These
things take time.”

“Nearly twenty hours?” Kenneth
was beside himself. “Her pains started yesterday, for Christ’s sake. Why is
this child not here yet? If something is wrong and you are keeping it from me,
I swear to God that I will…”

“Threaten me all you like,” Argus
snapped softly. “It will not bring this child any sooner. And I can promise you
that nothing is wrong. Give the countess time to bring this enormous child
forth.”

Kenneth scowled. Not usually a
scowling man, it was an unusual gesture, indicative of his frustration level.
He looked at Everett, at Reid, and noting their sympathetic expressions,
struggled to calm. It didn’t help that he could hear Aubrielle groaning from
the other side of the door.

“Can I at least see her again?
You chased me out hours ago because you thought the birth was imminent.”

“I chased you out because you
were more nervous than she was. You were not helping the situation.”

“I shall behave, I promise. Will
you let me see her?”

Argus lifted an eyebrow as if he
didn’t believe him. But he graciously gestured towards the door. Kenneth
entered the dark, smelly chamber with the little physic tight on his heels.

It stank of peppermint and clove,
a scent that was both overwhelming and invigorating. It was thought to chase
off the death and disease often associated with childbirth. Kenneth went to the
bed where Aubrielle lay upon her side, curled up as much as she was able to
given her colossal belly. The midwife had given her something for the pain, but
she was clearly uncomfortable. At this point, there was not much relief to be
had. When she saw Kenneth, tears sprang to her eyes.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he kissed
her on the forehead, smiling bravely. “What? No child yet?”

It was a gentle tease, but she
was in no mood for it.  “I am so tired,” she whispered. “I simply want this to
be over.”

He kissed her again, kneeling
beside the bed. “It will be soon,” he assured her. “Argus says the child is
merely being stubborn.”

“Then it must be male,” she
grunted as she rolled onto her back. She squirmed uncomfortably on the
mattress. “I want to stand up. I must move around. I cannot lie here any
longer.”

Kenneth had seen much of this
restlessness over the past two weeks. The child was overdue and Aubrielle’s
discomfort had been unbearable. It was difficult to sit and exhausting to
stand.  He glanced at Argus for approval; the old man shrugged weakly. Taking
his wife by the wrists, he gently pulled her into a seated position. She
grunted and groaned as he carefully pulled her off the bed.

She waddled a few steps across
the floor, her hands against her lower back. The pain was running rampant down
her hips and legs. “Please, God, let this be over soon,” she begged softly. “I
do not know how much more.…”

A heavy contraction hit her and
she doubled over. Kenneth held on to her, watching her face contort with pain.
He had never been so frightened. She held on to him until it passed, loudly
wishing she could drop the child on the floor and be done with it.

When the pain subsided, she stood
as straight as she was able and continued walking with Kenneth in careful
attendance.

“I am very proud of you, Aubrielle,”
he said softly. “You have shown such strength in all of this. I doubt there has
ever been a stronger woman.”

She cast him sidelong glance.
“Cease your praise. I shall have none of it. I hate it.”

He suppressed a smile; she was
full of the devil and rightfully so. He did not blame her. Another contraction
bent her over and she groaned loudly, panting until it eased. Kenneth could do
naught but hold her through it all.

“That one was close on the heels
of the previous pain,” the midwife whispered loudly to Argus. “This child
should be arriving momentarily.”

“My lord,” Argus addressed the
earl with quiet sternness. “Put her back on the bed. We must take a look.”

Kenneth gently led her back over
to their massive bed. Aubrielle grumbled the entire way.

“Never again,” she told her
husband. “This will be our last child, do you hear me? Never again will I go
through this.”

“Aye, madam.”

“Any talk of more children in the
future and I will gouge your eyes out.”

“Aye, madam.”

“Do not mock me.”

“Aye, ma… I am not mocking you,
most assuredly.”

As he helped her back onto the
bed, she mumbled uncontrollably. “There must be an easier way for children to
be brought forth. Why can I not hatch one as a chicken does? Why can I not lay
an egg? Will someone please explain this to me?”

It took all of Kenneth’s self
control not to smile, mostly because she was serious and he did not want to
upset her further. Aubrielle lay back on the mattress and Argus and the midwife
went to work. The long skirt of her shift, damp and stained, went up around her
hips.

After a brief moment studying his
patient’s state, Argus spoke quietly. “This child comes.”  He glanced at
Kenneth. “You will wait outside, my lord.”

“No,” Aubrielle latched onto his
hand and would not let go. “He stays.”

Kenneth didn’t particularly want
to stay, but he didn’t want to leave her, either. She was exhausted,
frightened, and her thought processes were muddled. He stroked her forehead.

“I shall not leave, have no
fear,” he knelt down beside her. “I shall stay right here if you wish it.”

Aubrielle’s expression calmed as
she gazed at him, drawing strength from his presence. He gave her such comfort,
knowing that nothing awful could happen to her or the child if he were here.
The next pain overcame her and she was able to bear down with a steadier mind.

Argus was supervising the midwife.
He stood by Aubrielle’s left leg, directing the woman.

“Take hold, take hold,” he
instructed firmly. “The child’s head is large. He requires help.”

The midwife had been delivering
children for twenty years. She knew well her craft. When the large head popped
forth, she turned it slightly to allow for the shoulders.

“Now, my lady,” Argus said to Aubrielle.
“With the next pain, push as hard as you can.”

Aubrielle nodded, panting and
spent. The next pain came and she grunted loudly, bearing down with all her
might. It was unfortunate that she had to repeat the process several more times
before the babe’s large shoulders were able to make their way through. Kenneth
had becoming increasingly fearful that the child was stuck until the babe,
literally, popped forth. After that, Aubrielle gave another large push and the
entire body slipped through.

Argus grabbed the baby and
whisked it to the edge of the bed where neither Kenneth nor Aubrielle could see
it. The air was silent when there should have been a baby crying and Kenneth
was positive that tragedy had befallen them. After a small eternity, Argus gave
the child a brisk rub across the feet and a thin wail pierced the air. 

“My child,” Aubrielle demanded.
“Is it well? What is…?”

“Your son is fine, my lady,” Argus
wiped the baby off and handed it to the midwife.  His old eyes twinkled at the
alarmed earl and countess. “He is a big, healthy boy. No wonder he took so long
to come. He is the size of a small pumpkin.”

Aubrielle started laughing and
weeping at the same time. Kenneth felt so much relief that he nearly slithered
to the floor with it. But he put his arms around his wife’s shoulders and
buried his face in her neck instead; it was all he could manage at the moment. 

When he finally lifted his head
to look at her, she wiped a thumb across his cheek. “Tears,” Aubrielle
murmured. “So the mighty Kenneth St. Héver weeps tears of joy. Remarkable.”

He didn’t care if he had tears on
his face; it seemed like a foolishly inconsequential thing. “Thank you,” he
murmured, kissing her sweetly. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

Aubrielle wallowed in his
adoration, feeling more joy and fulfillment than she ever knew possible.
Kenneth kissed her, stroking her arm tenderly, before looking to Argus.

“Is she well?” he was trying to
be delicate with his question. “The child… he did not injury her overly, did
he?”

Argus was inspecting the
afterbirth. “The mother tore somewhat, but that is to be expected. She must
stay in bed and rest in order to regain her strength.”

The midwife came forth with the
baby, now screaming lustily. The woman presented the boy to Kenneth, who wasn’t
quite sure if he should take him.  His expression was wrought with uncertainty.

“Hold him, Kenneth,” Aubrielle
encouraged softly. “He’ll not break.”

Kenneth held out two hands and
the woman put the baby in his palms. He looked bewildered until he looked into
the child’s face; then, it was if the sun suddenly broke from behind the
clouds. Kenneth’s entire expression changed.

“Welcome, lad,” he murmured into the
red, yelling face. “We have been waiting a long time to see you.”

Aubrielle held up her arms and
Kenneth carefully deposited the child into them. He put a pillow behind her
back, helping her to sit up. The new mother and new father gawked excitedly at their
child. They didn’t even notice when Argus and the midwife quietly slipped from
the room. For the moment, it was only the three of them in the entire world.

“He is magnificent,” Kenneth
murmured. “See how strong he is.”

“He has ten fingers,” Aubrielle
said. “I must see the rest of him.”

Kenneth watched her unwrap the
babe to gain a better look. “We have a problem, you know,” he said. “The only
name you were able to decide upon was for a female. I would not like my son to
bear the name of Geniver.”

Aubrielle touched the fat little
arms, inspecting the soft, round belly. “There is a name I have always been
fond of.”

“Not Parsifal or Arthgallo or
Gawain.”

She smiled, remembering their
many conversations about a male name. They could not agree. She ran through the
names of Arthurian legend and Kenneth wanted to name a son something simple,
like John. Aubrielle had declared her son to be too exceptional to bear such a
plain name and they had been at an impasse for weeks. Now, they had to choose.

“Back when the knights of
Munsalvaesche brought the Grail to Britain’s shores, a kindly king allowed them
to settle in Glastonbury. His name was Brennan. How do you like the name of
Brennan St. Héver?”

Kenneth gazed down at the fat
little boy with the loud voice. He could see that, in the warmth of the room,
his hair was drying into a downy shade of blond.  He never thought he would
ever feel the way he felt now, at this instant, ever again. It was a magical
moment.

“Brennan di Witney St. Héver it
is.”